The Jailhouse

[HonestInjun]

tuffen up, fresh meat--them gurlie handed potguts ain't agonna bother yu none---
Hit's the damn cream-o-wheat and baloney sandwitches that be a gettin' old fer this wagonburner--
Drat! Wen hits cold, can't even git locked up---trowed a brick thru a display winder last feb and wait fer the cops to haul me away---Ah was weady fer a litle R % R, 3 hots and a cot--them sadistic saps hauled ol' injun down 10 mile o bad woad and sayed yu walks thisaway and hit's buckshot tam!
Now a coma favrit tam o yar and Injun wake up in hoosecow, don eben no how. Heap big haidache and no moneys. Plus gotta lissen to pastyfaced crybabies wantin mama