As Sam puts in, “Public school is a rare place for broad fun and practical joking; so is a barrack-room, or the 'tween-decks of a troopship. But these are all far surpassed, in fun and frolic, by the young men's side of the particular workhouse of which we happen to tenant.

“As comic subjects, indoor paupers may be divided into several classes. There are the idiots, pure and simple; the semi-idiotic; the monomaniacs; the inordinately vain, who are also monomaniacs in their way; the irritable; and, finally, the unsophisticated, or people who have the use of all their senses, but in whom, because as being new to the house, some of their senses have not yet been developed up to the pauper standard. The last, it need hardly be said, are only temporary butts; and, probably on account of the probation which they undergo, very often ripen into the primest of such jokers themselves.

“And here it may be as well to make a few observations about the senses of paupers. These senses are not limited among them, nor, indeed, among men of any class, to the five by means of which the spirit communicates with things external. There are internal senses which are acted upon by means of the organs of perception; as the senses of the ludicrous, the pleasant, the beautiful, the terrible, etc. - prominent among the etceteras being the sense that we are being victimized or rendered a laughing-stock. This particular sense is one that remains quiescent in most people, or nearly so, under ordinary circumstances. However, it is one very soon trained into full maturity and activity when time and place cohere; and in no place are the developing influences stronger than in the workhouse.

“We have three or four idiots among us, each of whom displays, when roused, strongly marked peculiarities of temper; and it is a common amusement of the jokers to excite the idiotic temper as often as possible. Good opportunities present themselves four or five times a day. First, in the morning, during the half-hour intervening between rising and breakfast, when the laggards descend from their dormitories, they are sure to find the idiots, each in his own corner, begirt by a troop of laughing tormentors, and growling, storming, and swearing, it may be, each in his own peculiar manner.

“The semi-idiotic belong, for the most part, to the lowest class of Ins and Outs. They are fellows accustomed to draw the laughter of tap-room boozers, and with it their contributions, in the shape of half-pints of small-beer and odd coppers, quite as much by submitting with docility to the practical jokes as by their own amusing qualities. They have been in the habit, indeed, of playing tomfool so long, that the part has become natural, and adheres to them at all times.

“These fellows are the delight of the workshops in the absence of the labour-masters. The moment these officials turn their backs, one or other of the semi-idiots is called upon to give a specimen of his comic powers, or to relate some laughable incident of his own experiences. Generally the call is responded to willingly, and we have tumbling, singing, and acting - the last of a sort that would astonish Mr. Henry Irving very considerably. If the fellow refuses to gratify his mates, he is jeered at and goaded until he accedes, or flies off into a towering passion - the latter invariably affording his tormentors much more entertainment than any other performance of his.

“Perhaps the foremost of our semi-idiots is Jack Queedom a local notoriety outside the house as well as inside. He is one of the shortest specimens of manhood among us, with a curious monkey sort of phiz, and a figure and a gait tending to excite risibility at first sight. The voice is one to match - a long-drawn nasal howl which never varies its dreary tone in the least."

I must interject here that Sam is not using real names. I, of course, know who his is talking about.

“Jack is renowned for his Shakespearean recitations, which must have been taught him by a master-wag. He muddles up about a dozen choice speeches into a single rigmarole; and he gives new readings of the more remarkable passages, which render them beyond measure comical. At the same time, he is perfectly unconscious that he is doing anything of the kind, believing most firmly that he is adhering exactly to the text, when he makes his most curious departures from it; as, for instance, when, in the character of Richard III., he orders Buckingham's head to be put upon a plate instead of on a pole.

“The most conspicuous traits in the character of this worthy are his extreme credulity, on the one side, and his capacity as extreme for recounting every incident of his life exactly as it occurred, omitting not a single item, no matter how ridiculous it makes him appear.

“His most amusing stories are those which concern his adventures with the women, of whom Jack is a devoted admirer. There are few low-class females dwelling adjacent to the house who are not acquainted with Jack and all his weaknesses, and very few indeed who are not ready to take advantage of them.

“Somehow, when he goes out, he can always manage to raise a few shillings; and these the beauties of his acquaintance know how to melt, as fast as he obtains them. It is, however, of the past that his best anecdotes of dealing with women are told. He really was once a steady workman, in constant employment; and then Jack Queedom, from Saturday night to Monday morning, was the inevitable victim.

“He has been tarred, though not feathered, covered with flour and red-ochre, physicked too, and he has suffered other inflictions of the like sort innumerable at their hands. He has even been befooled into handing over to one and another of them, from time to time, the fees indispensable for putting up the 'askings' or banns; but, without exception, the fair one has transferred the coins to the favourite tavern-keeper, in return for the adequate number of pots of ale, to be consumed by herself and her acquaintances.

“All this Jack tells us most artlessly, but withal so comically as to keep everybody in a roar. And when the tale is told, it is made the medium of badgering him until he loses all command of himself, and, rushing off to the labour-master, he forswears all further work for that day, and demands to be locked up in the refractory ward - purely to escape from his tormentors. His request, I need hardly remark, is always granted. And there he remains until bedtime.

“Pestered and plagued, however, as he is, Jack Queedom is quite a favourite in the house. His temporary absences are loudly lamented, so long as they last; and his returns are always hailed with acclamation. The house, it is generally allowed, would be nothing without him; and it may be added that he, in his turn, would be nothing without the house.

“Then come the monomaniacs; and chief among these is the one known as General Booth. Left to himself, the man is quiet and silent enough, reserved and retiring - very much so indeed. But when turned on, as the phrase goes here, he bursts out into a roar, reciting a series of hymns and passages of Scripture mixed up with canting ejaculations. He utters these pious scraps in exactly the same order on all occasions. He never omits a single sentence, or introduces anything fresh. It is the same, without the smallest variation even of tone, from one end of the day to the other.

“The worst of it is, there is no stopping the fellow once he begins. He is bound to go on until the excitement subsides, and that often takes hours. At first his roar is a subject of laughter; but ten minutes or so of it is certain to disgust the most inveterate Jack-joker of the lot. Then he is roared at and execrated on all sides, but without the smallest effect. Those who have provoked the infliction - and it is but right to state that it is, as a rule, provoked, and that very often much time and ingenuity is required to compel the poor fellow into giving tongue - those who have provoked the infliction, I repeat, are bound to put up with it until the speaker is run dry.

“Of course there is no fun in the man himself; or in his rhapsody; but there is a good deal in the suddenness with which it breaks forth, in its contrast to what is going on, in its ear-splitting strength, and in the vigour with which it is persisted in, notwithstanding oaths and threats of the most astounding order.

“Far more amusing than the monomaniacs are the men each of whom is cursed with a pet vanity, of whom we have a number. This one, for instance, is an unrivalled scholar - in his own view; that one, a profound philosopher; a third is an orator or tragedian; a fourth, a theologian - and so on. These people are always to be got at by deferential wheedling and adroit flattery; and when got at, the victim of the moment shows off in high exulting style, until finally brought to a sudden halt by an uproarious outburst of laughter. Then come sneer, and jeer, and mockery anent the subject of his discourse, and especially the principal subject himself, until the poor fellow loses his temper and behaves accordingly - which is considered the climax of the joke.

“Joe Collier is far and away the most conspicuous of our vanity-mongers. He is a little elderly man, with boyish features but stentorian voice; and his delight is to expatiate on the 'points' of the countless beauties of all lands who have wasted their affections upon him.

“Joe is one of our occasionals; that is, he will stick to the house for a couple of months, and then vanish from it for four, five, or six, and always as accepting legitimate occupation. He is sure, however, to return, greatly to the satisfaction of the inmates who have already made his acquaintance.

“How he entered the house at the outset is more than I know; but, once in it, he contrived to fall in love with the cook -  who, moreover, remains to this hour in perfect ignorance of the impression made by her on Joe's susceptible heart. He flattered himself, of course, that she had fallen in love with him; and the rogues in his confidence used to make a good thing of forging letters and messages in her name, and bearing them to Joe during their outings, when the poor fellow happened to be in employment.

“Joe's tirades are exceedingly popular. They are all of the high falutin' style, Circassian beauties, golden hair, jetty locks, laughing eyes, glowing cheeks, sylph-like figures, and the rest of it. And decked as they are with luscious stories, which do credit to Joe's imagination, if not to his taste or morals, they go down excellently. The rascals round listen with delight, especially to the luscious stories, putting sly questions now and again to draw Joe still further, and always with the desired effect.

“While the tales last - that is, so long as Joe's lungs can hold forth - all goes well. But the moment he 'dries up,' or ceases to speak, the listeners cast aside their deferential demeanour, and the badgering commences, and goes on, too, until Joe starts up in a rage and 'pitches into' the nearest of his tormentors.

“Then begins a battle, which is only make-believe on one side, and which is so conducted as to extract thunders of applause from the spectators. Joe strikes out wildly, while his antagonist shifts and dodges in ludicrous fashion, now and again pretending to be badly hurt, but still more frequently laying Joe on his back in all sorts of queer ways, though without hurting him in the least. And so the thing goes on until some one on the watch cries, 'Nix lads, buttons' - the warning that the taskmaster is at hand. Then the row ceases, everybody takes his seat and resumes his work, and the most consummate order meets the eye of the official when he enters the apartment.

“A good deal of fun is knocked out of the hobbledehoys from sixteen to nineteen, half a dozen or more of whom are always about, and who, having spent most of their time in the workhouse, are singularly ignorant of many matters of the commonest sort, and therefore to be gulled with the greatest ease respecting them.

“One of these youths, having a grievance against the parish doctor, was persuaded by a scamp to travel to the Isle of Wight, in order to state his complaint to the Queen in person, as being the proper person to do him right in the matter; and the lad actually took his discharge and travelled down to Portsmouth, supporting himself on the way by begging and sheltering at night in casual wards, with this silly purpose and no other; nor was he disabused, until he tried to persuade the master of a steamer to carry him across the Solent.

“Much fun, too, is made by conveying false orders to simpletons in the name of various officers, and so setting them to work on tasks which no sensible man would dream of assigning them. Thus a booby has been made to mount a tolerable-sized pig on his shoulders, and carry it to the doctor for his opinion concerning some imaginary complaint which the jokers assigned to the animal.

“The fun, however, of the males is strictly confined to the young men's side of the house: there is nothing of the sort among the old men. The latter, indeed, taken as a whole, are about the most irritable and cross-grained beings in existence. They are perpetually on the watch for the slightest invasion of what they consider 'their rights,' and as perpetually vindicating the said rights by growl and snarl and venomous remark. To listen to them one would think that they were for ever on the point of coming to blows.

"Poor fellow! All things considered, their snarling is more to be pitied than blamed. There is no hope for them of escape from the house and its miserable existence. There is ample reason why, therefore, all the acidity of their tempers should be for ever on the surface.”