"Murphy don't have consideration for the prisoners, any way. You know
he raises fowls in the jail-yard; and just after Christmas he had a
big lot of turkeys left on his hands, and do you believe that man
actually kept feedin' us on those turkeys for more than a month?
Positively refused to allow us anything else until they was gone. I
had half a notion to quit for good. I was disgusted. And Simpson
said if that is the way they were goin' to treat convicts, why,
civilization is a failure. All through Lent, too, wouldn't allow us an
oyster; kept stuffin' us with beef and such trash, although Botts said
he'd never been used to such wickedness, for his parents were very
particular. Wouldn't even give us fish-balls twice a week. But what
does Murphy care? He's perfectly enthusiastic when he can tread on a
man's feelin's and stamp all the moral sensibility out of him.

"And Mrs. Murphy, she's not much better. All the warm days she's
home she hustles that baby of hers onto me. Makes me take the little
sucklin' out in his carriage for an airin', and then gets mad if he
falls out while I'm conversin' for a few minutes with a friend. I'd
a slid him into the river long ago, only I know well enough they'd
sentence me for life, and then I'd maybe have to stand Murphy's
persecution for about forty years; and that'd kill me. It would
indeed. He's so inconsiderate.

"He used to give me the key of the jail to keep while he'd go over to
Barnes' to fight roosters or to play poker, and one day I lost it.
He raised an awful fuss, and even Botts was down on me because they
couldn't keep the boys out, and they used to come in and tickle Botts
with straws while he was sleepin' in his cell. I believe they expect
Murphy back day after to-morrow, but I know mighty well I'm not goin'