HE WAS FOND OF PLAYING PRACTICAL JOKES.

Globe, Volume V, Issue 534, 4 March 1876, Page 3

HE WAS FOND OF PLAYING PRACTICAL JOKES.

Mr Philander Bumzell resides at Roger’s Park. He is very fond of playing practical jokes. All summer he has been amiably entertaining his wife, who is a timid woman and does not keep a servant, with tramp literature, and instructing her what to do in case one of the fraternity should call at the house during his absence. 1 See, Lucinda,’ he would say, ‘if one of them tramps comes to the house ’n carries on rough, jest you say you’ll callyour husband, or you’ll set the big dog on him, and if he don’t get up and go, just you yell out “Philander! Philander!” or say, “Sic him, Towser.” Don’t be scared, Lucinda, don’t be scared.’

It recurred to Mr Bumzell that it would be well to test his wife, and see if she was as efficient in practice as she claimed to be

theoretically, so yesterday he told her he had to go to Milwaukee, and wouldn’t be home till late. Then he cunningly disguised himself as a vagrom man with some false hair, and hair dye, and a suit of ragged clothes, and about half-past ten o’clock he walked round to his own kitchen door. He found it unlocked, and walking into the kitchen was surprised to find that his wife was not there, ‘ Just like those women,’ he growled ; * a man might come in here and carry off the whole house out of doors, and that stupid woman’d never know it. Won’t I have the joke on Lucinda though !’ he said, in rapture as he pocketed the spoons and forks. At this moment the door opened, and Mrs Bumzell entered. She gave a shriek, and seemed surprised, and then said faintly, ‘ What do you want, sir ?’ The assumed tramp replied— ‘ I want some hot dinner, and a suit of clothes, and any money and plate you have in the house, and a kiss. ’

‘Go ’way, you bad man,’ replied the virtuous matron ; ‘Go ’way, or I’ll set the dog on you, and Bosun is awful fierce. He bit a man twice as big as you on Tuesday,’ she added.

‘ Ha! ha!’ laughed the tramp, ‘ that’s too thin. You’ve got no dog; you hain’t got an ounce of sausage meat on the place,’ ‘lf you don’t keep quiet,’ says Mrs Bumzell, ‘ I’ll call my husband, you bad man. Here, Fred! Fred!’ she shrieked, as the tramp seized a napkin ring, ‘ Yell away,’ said he, with a mocking laugh; * your husband ain’t here, and his name ain’t Fred either.

*He isn’t, isn’t he ? It ain’t, ain’t it ?’ ejaculated a big red headed man whom Mr Bumzell had never seen before, as he bounded in his shirt sleeves from an inner room. ‘You infernal scoundrel!’ he cried, as with a fearful kick he lifted Mr Bumzell like a meteor out of the back door into the swill barrel; * I’ll teach you to insult my wife ?' and he hauled Mr Bumzell out by the neck and swabbed the coal-heap with him ; ‘You thought I wasn’t in, eh ?’ and he knocked Mr Bumzell’s two eyes into one; ‘ Hadn’t got no dog, neither? Here, Nero—soox !’ And a big bull dog, with a tail like a piece of macaroni, dropped his lower jaw like the tail board of a coal cart, and applied himself to the slack of Mr Bumzell’s pantaloons. ‘Hi ! Mercy ! I surrender ! Don’t shoot! Fire ! Police ! Here’s yer morning paper ! Lucinda ! I’m Bumzell!’ yelled the unfortunate man. ,

After some difficulty, they recovered a large percentage of him from the dog and put it to bed, where it was identified as the property of Philander Bumzell, of Roger’s Park.

It subsequently transpired that Mrs Bumzell’s brother, Frederick, had just arrived from St Louis as her husband left for Milwaukee.