Who can look at a prison without being glad that he is not in it? At the corner of Lafayette and Franklin streets is the great gray pile that is the Tombs. Its turrets, towers and narrow windows suggest dungeon keeps and feudal castles; its heavy gateways, - medieval strongholds. Its high exterior wall and "Bridge of Sighs" make one remember the lugubrious histories of the Doge's Palace and of the Tour de Nesle. Those inside bear the double burden of being imprisoned and of knowing that close about them is all the life of the great city: its lights, its restaurants, its countless activities and its friends. Yes, looking at the Tombs, grim as it is, makes one feel strangely fortunate.