A ‘"Victim"’ of the Telegraph — a very hard case.

A gentleman, bearing the highly honorable son respectable name of John Erskine, was recently arrested by a police marshal in St. Louis, and taken before a magistrate. When captured, Mr. Erakine, who is a severs-looking personage, with sickly whiskers, was apparently endeavoring to carry away the stone steps of a banking house, and occasionally calling some invisible individual a ‘"durned mean abodsh-ish-ish onist"’

Upon being arraigned before the Court, Mr. Erakine, balanced himself majestically on one leg; that one eye indignantly, and said, severely:

‘"It's on with (his) show!"’

‘"What is the matter with this man?"’ thundered the magistrate, who felt somewhat ruffled by Erakine's profound remark.

‘"Drunk, your Honor."’ said the Marshal.

‘" a mistake, Mr. Chairman--I mean your Honor!"’ responded the injured Mr. Erakine ‘"I was not drunk, sir — no, sir! Drunk, sir — no, sir — no, sir — drunk, sir; no, sir-- note!"’

Here the Court observed that the prisoner Was rambling

‘"No, sir!"’ ejaculated Mr. Erakine, falling suddenly into the arms of the Marshal, and their righting himself again with a heavy lurch. ‘"I'm not rambling, sir: but it's the curse telegraph. That's what's the matter. I take a paper and read all the telegraphs. That's what's the matter. First, the telegraph says that Abe Lincoln has taken Virginia, and then it says he is marching on Canada. That's what's the matter. Six telegraphs an hour, and all diff-fif fifer- (his) I want to know about the war, and I read the telegraphs. What do I learn by the telegraphs 7. Why, I learn that what took place yesterday didn't take place yesterday, but will take place to-morrow, and that the stirring events reported to have taken place to-morrow won't oc-kee-kee-our till some time last week — hic! That's what's the matter. I'm so confused that I don't know what I'm about, and it's all the telegraphs. I hope your Honor will not think I'm at all intox-ox-oxes intoxes-oxes-is --hic! That's what's the matter!"’

Here the eloquent speaker swayed gently to and fro for one moment, made a pitch for ward, recovered himself for a moment, and then went down stern foremost.

The Court decided that it was the most touching case of ‘"telegraph"’ he ever heard of, and desired the Marshal to have the body carried tenderly out on a shutter.

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