Rousseau, as we may suppose, found the want of space and air in the boat the most intolerable of evils, and preferred to go alone to the lazaretto, though it had neither window-sashes nor tables nor chairs nor bed, nor even a truss of straw to lie down upon.

He was locked up and had the whole barrack to himself.
"I manufactured," he says, "a good bed out of my coats and shirts, sheets out of towels which I stitched together, a pillow out of my old cloak rolled up.

I made myself a seat of one trunk placed flat, and a table of the other.

I got out some paper and my writing-desk, and arranged some dozen books that I had by way of library.

In short I made myself so comfortable, that, with the exception of curtains and windows, I was nearly as well off in this absolutely naked lazaretto as in my lodgings in Paris.