He was a coward.

He was a snitcher.

He was a stool--strange words for a professor of agronomics to use in writing, but a professor of agronomics may well learn strange words when pent in prison for the term of his natural life.
This poet-forger's name was Cecil Winwood.

He had had prior convictions, and yet, because he was a snivelling cur of a yellow dog, his last sentence had been only for seven years.

Good credits would materially reduce this time.