Twenty-five years have passed, but that day is as fresh in my memory as though it were yesterday.

The prisoners' rooms were filled, the precincts of the court were full, and a great crowd of witnesses and friends, or of the curious public, were congregated in the street.
Yesterday had been the great Christian festival, the celebration of the birth of the Prince of Peace, when the bells had rang out the old story "Peace on earth, good-will to men." To-day it looked as though Hell had been holding carnival! Nearly one hundred prisoners had to come before the magistrate.

I can see them now! as one by one they passed before him, for time has not dimmed the vivid picture of that procession.

I remember their stories, and think still of their cuts and wounds.

Outside the court the day was dull, and inside the light was bad and the air heavy with the fumes of stale debauch and chloride of lime.