For some unaccountable reason the cellhouse building is infested with
bedbugs, notwithstanding the fact that every effort is made to exterminate
them. An afflicted prisoner one day stepped up to the deputy warden,
respectfully gave the customary military salute, and, with a solemn face
that would do credit to a judge about to impose the death penalty,
remarked: “Say deputy, I have a complaint to make.” “All right, proceed,”
said the deputy. “Well,” continued the prisoner, “there are about five
hundred inmates who pass my cell every day going to and from their work
and each man throws a bedbug into my cell. This d— foolishness has to be
stopped or there will be something doing,” and the man looked as though he
meant business. Telling of the incident afterwards, the deputy said that
the story was so absurd he could scarcely refrain from laughing.