The Street Preacher's Final Sermon

For some months past a sandy, middle-aged man of excitable temperament has made occasional appearance on Sunday afternoons at the intersection of Mill and Commercial streets and preached, or ranted, at the crowd there usually assembled. His harangues were of a broken, irrational, crazy character, interspersed with violent gesticulations, running around, and various like performances of an uncalled-for and occasionally ludicrous nature. Once or twice he rushed among the bystanders on a sort of half-gallop and tried to kiss them. Several times he was stopped by the police officers. Other workers in the religious field tried to choke him off, but he wouldn't have it. Last Sunday he got on another tear, and was shut up by the Chief of Police, who took him to jail and locked him up. McCoy was determined to preach, however, and when inside the jail fired away at the other inmates with all his might. Yesterday he was taken into the Probate Court and an investigation made of his mental balance. Several witnesses were called, from whose testimony, as well as from his own remarks, no other conclusion could be reached than that he was a monomaniac. McCoy will be taken to the Territorial Asylum today.