The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1875-10-28

nice hat you have. Now, what do you
say to exchanging hats? Mine is very
nice straw, but find it's somewhat heat
ing to the brain"
You are quite welcome, sir, : faltered
the tremrIlous Nathan, speaking all the
more rapidly in that the freakish maniac
had already deftly effected the change.
And your coat, too-nice cool linen.
Upon my word, now, that coat is IN
finitely preferable to this swallow-tailed
concern of mine, with the brass buttons.
Yes-it fits me very nicely. / hope you
don't object, sir, to the accommodation 2,
N-no!" faltered Mr.. Tripler.
Well, good morning." said the
stranger, looking round with bewilder-
ed air. 81 don't really see where my
chief orderly Isl told him to be here
precisely at nine o'clock and everything
will be in confusion if I don't attend to
it persistently."
He plunged into the green, dense
Businesses of the woods, talking restlessly
Tripler was solus in a coarse straw hat
and coat of coarse blue cloth, garnished
with huge metal buttons, whose brill
lance was considerably furnished.
Dear me, what figure / cut, "
groaned Mr.. Tripler, cycling himself
with disgust. 81 must go directly home
and get on something decent. A nam
would be hooted through the streets of
New York If he ventured to make his
appearance in such a costume as this. "
He rose, brushed away the chill drops
of Precipitation from his forehead, and
was just replacing the crimson silk pocket
handkerchief in its resting place when
he was suddenly grasped from behind
and thrown skillfully upon the ground.
"Well, we've cotched you at last, my
hearty" said burly man who stood over
him, while another had bound both his
hands and feet together before he could
find words or breath to demonstrate.
You thought you was going to give us
the slip, hey2 Come, it ism t worth while
to cut up like that, you know, unless
you want the straight jacket brought
out"
Straight Jacket" gasped Tripler
Nothing, unless you behave yourself
unruly like. Steady, then Tom, bring
up the wagon"
"Where are you taking me to2''
"To the asylum, to be sure, where
you'd have been two hours ago If you
hadn't been little too spry for the stage
driver and your keeper"
Light began to dawn on the troubled
chaos of Mr.. Tripler's much bewildered
mind.
"It's all a mistake, my good fellows
aridiculous mistake" he exclaimed, HI'm
not mailman |"
"No, of course not; we know you're
not" responded the larger of the two,
with wink to his companion" Drive
on, Tom"
But am not, indeed you are mis-
taking me for somebody else a man who
just forced me to exchange hats and
coats with him, and went down into the
woods-he is the mailman.
"Oh, no-I guess not" said the big
keeper, with fearful attempt at pleas.
ant irony.
"My good men, you are laboring I'M.
der some very singular delusion,' remon-
strated the victim, trying to speak plain
ly between the jolting of the wagon and
his own excitement. 81 am Mr.. Nathan
Tripler, of No. =, John street.
"Oh, Yes, said the keeper, lighting a
cigar, yesterday you was Napoleon
Bonaparte, and to-day you are Nathan
Tripler, and to-morrow-hkely as not
you'll be the King of the Sandwich
Islands. I've heard this kind of talk be-
fore.
Tripler's heart began to stand still with
underlined horror. Was this hideous
dream9 orwas he to be actually immured
within the high stone walls of the asylum
he had SO often walked past with feel
ing of dread and horror beyond descrip-
ton, the lifelong victim of some scarce
credible mistakes In vain he reasoned,
argued, protested his words fell on the
unheeding ears of his two conductors
like drops of rain pattering on the ste ny
surface of Table Rock, until at length he
was carried-more dead than alive-into
a narrow apartment at the end of long
row of similar ones.
1t was lighted and ventilated by an
iron grating in the door, with CORE
spending window high up on the wall,
and furnished with only narrow couch
and stand built into the wall: and
there, Mr.. Nathan Tripler, released from
his combining bonds, was left to enjoy
the uninterrupted society of his own
cherries meditations.
/" It can't be possible, / must be |
asleep. and dreaming p thought Nathan.
But it was possible, and he never WIS
wider awake in his life.
Toward evening pitcher of water and
piece of bread were dealt out to him.
Mr.. Tripler ate it under sort of mental
protest, to- relieve the gnawing sensation
of faintness that was at his vitals.
+ g What would I not give for one of
Dorothy's hot biscuits 2 thought the
wretched captive. my poor little
Dorothy l. i have been too hard upon
her. Suppose should die without
being able to tell her how ashamed am
of having been Sr1ch brute