penitentiary-wall

Updated: May 13, 2025

Sometimes, when he used to stand chafing his stubbly chin in the evening at the slit cut in the stones for his window, looking at the red brick chimney-pot he could see over the penitentiary-wall, it seemed like something of outer life, and he would mutter, "She said the boys would never know." "I never felt sorry for the little whiffet before," said the fat jailer, when he came out.

Various - The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 13, No. 75, January, 1864