Arizona republican., 1892-06-16
NO HOTEL IN TOWN.
A PLACE WHERE STRANGERS DO NOT
 CARE TO STOP VERY LONG.

The Only HosteIry In One Long Island
 Village Is the Insane Asylum. Where
 the Crazy Inmates Mako Things Lively
 During the Night.
 Newspaper reporters sometimes have unpleasant experiences in covering ''as- signments," and the writer had one of them in little Long Island town not long ago. Some one had made serious charges against the manner in which patients were treated in one of the in- sane asylums at a place not a great many miles from this city. The re- porter alighted from the train at a little station about an hours ride from town and spent several hours in making in quiries for the information which his paper wanted, but of that it is not nec- eSsary to say anything here.
 Being so near to the city and as it was early in the day he had not bothered himself about the time of trains, think ing it would be time enough to do this when he was ready to return home. Upon approaching the station when he was ready to return to town he was i'm pressed by the deserted appearance of the building. He walked up to the door confidently and tried to open it, but it was locked. He looked through the window. There was not a soul in the building.
 Thinking that the agent had gone away between trains," the reporter sat down on the edge of the platform and waited half an hour, expecting every minute that the agent would come hurrying out of small cottage which stood down the wagon road a few rods. Then the reporter walked down to the house with the intention of finding out when the next train departed for the city. A thin, palefaced woman, carry ing a baby, answered the knock. Hang ing to the skirt of her dress were two other children.
 Madam" the reporter said politely, twill you be kind enough to tell me where the station agent lives?"
 The woman looked at him curiously for a few seconds, and then said slowly "He lives here"
 "Is he iny" was asked
 "No; he's gone to H. to get some groceries" she answered.
 "Who sells tickets when he is away
 "Oh, he'll be back time huff to sell tickets" she answered
 Well, perhaps you can tell me what time the next train goes to New York;"
 "Oh, there ain't no more train goes to- night" she answered. "The next train goes at 8 o'clock tomorrow morning."
 This was a pretty kettle of fish. It was scarcely sundown yet and no way of getting back that night. The reporter inquired about telegraph office. "There wasn't no telegraph office nearer than H."
 How far is H-y
 "Well, guess it's about six miles,"
 In answer to an inquiry where the reporter could get a horse the woman didn't know, because Bill had the only hiTin' horse that she knew of in the neighborhood." The reporter asked where he could stay that night.
 "Well, people round here ain'tanxious to take no strangers, cause stranger that the JOneses took in a short time ago robbed 'em, but l guess they'd take you down ( the lunatic asylum"
 "To the whaty exclaimed the reporter.
 "To the lunatic asylum" she said again, at the same time pushing the door partly closed.
 Aren't there any hotels hereT' asked the reporter in desperation.
 Mop" she answered shortly, as she closed the door.
 The reporter made his way back to the asylum, which was about a mile distant. As he walked into the yard grinning face appeared behind the bars of grated window and the owner of the face screeched out:
 "You got left, didn't you, you old fool?"
 The reporter shut his teeth and con tinued on up the walk, while a big bull, dog, which came around the corner of the building at that minute. eyed him suspiciously and followed closely at his heels until he mounted the steps and rang the bell. He exp!ai. the situation to pretty maid in a white cap, who answered the ring, She called the superintendent and the story was re- peated. Eo was good natured, and after laughing heartily at the misfortune of the reporter gave him something to eat and bed. His sleep was restless that night and he got up with the sun the next morning and took the first train for the city.-New York Tribune.
 The Cobra of India.