ANYTHING BUT INCAPABLE.

Globe, Volume V, Issue 537, 8 March 1876, Page 3

ANYTHING BUT INCAPABLE.

(Detroit Free Press.) He was a fat man, almost as wide as the corridor door. ' Your name is Ruf us Simpson, is it ?' asked the court. ' Yes—certainly —of course—my name's Rufus Simpson,' wheezed the fat man in reply. ' And you hail from Milwaukee?' 'Why, yes certainly. Lived there 28 years.' ' And you were tipsy last night?' 'No, sir—no, sir—l deny the charge in toto. Never was more astonished in my life, sir. Perhaps you have taken me for some one else.' 1 Perhaps I have, Mr Simpson, but if you weren't tipsy, how came you to be lying flat on the walk, hat in the gutter, satchel in the street, and your feet spread all over ? And when an officer raised you up, Mr Simpson, you plainly and distinctly exclaimed, ' Zon't g'way an' lemme 'lone, I'll knock 'er head off'! Would a sober man make such a remark !' • May it please the court,' wheezed the fat man, •I am a victim of asthma. I was born of honest parents, and my life has been one long epoch of respectability. I am fat; I'd give the world to be lean, but I can't be. I can't run. Other men can skip and gambol, while I must creep. I can't sing. I can't whistle. I am an enthusiastic politician, but I can't holler for the candidates on my ticket. If I try to, my voice merely makes a sound like wind sobbing through a corrugated stovepipe elbow. This asthma is killing me by inches, The doctor says that I may live to see strawberries come again, but, beyond that, I dare not hope. Last night, as I came into your beautiful city, I was seized with faintness and fell down, and, if the officers had not found me, I should most likely have been robbed and murdered. I am indeed greatly obliged; and I can't close my remarks without complimenting the efficient police force of your handsome and orderly city.' 'Fat man from Milwankee,' said the Court, as the prisoner paused, ' once I was like a child. I looked at things as a child. I believed every story and statement, and my heart was free from suspicion. Men took advantage of me ; women deceived me with crocodile tears ; I felt sad for the meu who cut their hair close and bet their money on dog fights. I have changed, Mr Simpson. The lamb has become a wolf. That was a good speech of yours, but I can't part company until you hand the clerk a ten-dollar bill.' The prisoner smiled sadly, and paid the money.