SPOOPENDYKE.

Temuka Leader, Issue 1062, 1 February 1883, Page 1

SPOOPENDYKE.

‘ My dear !’ exclaimed Mr Spoopendyke, dropping his razor and examining bis chin with staring eyes, ‘ray dear, bring some court plaster, quick ! I’ve ploughed off half my chin I’ c Let me see !’ demanded Mrs Spoopendyke, bobbing up and fluttering around her husband. ‘ Groat gracious, what a cut! Wait a minute !’ and she shot into the closet and out

again. ‘ Quick !’ roared Mr Spoopendyke, ‘ I’m bleeding to death ! fetch me that court plaster 1’ ‘ Ofa, dear!’ moaned Mrs Spoopendyke. ‘ I put it—oh, where did I put it V

‘Dod gast the putty!’ yelled Mr Spoopendykc, who had heard his wife imperfectly. ‘ What d’ye think this is, a crack in the wall ? Got some sort of a notion that there is a draught through here? Court plaster, I tell you! Bring me some court plaster before I pull out the side of the house and get some from the neigh ■ bors!’

Just then it appeared to Mrs Spoopendykc that she had put the plaster in the clod-.

‘ Here it is, dear !’ and slie snipped off ti piece and handed it to him. Mr (Spoopendyke pul it on the end of his tongue, holding his thumb over the Mound. When it was thoroughly wetted, it stuck fast to his linger, while the carnage ran down his chin, lie jabbed away at the cut, but the plaster hung to his digit until finally Ids patience was thoroughly exhausted, ‘ What’s the matter with the measly business?’ be yelled. 1 Whcre’d ye buy this plaster ? Home off, dod gast ye ?’ and as ho plucked it off his finger it grew to his thumb. ‘ Stick, will ye V he squealed, plugging at the cut in his chin. ‘ Leave go that thumb !’ and he whirled around on his heed and pegged at it again. ‘ Why don’t you bring me some court plaster ?’ he shrieked, turning on his trembling wife, ‘ Who asked ye for a leech ? Bring me something that knows a thumb from a chin I’

and he planted his thumb ou the wound and screwed it around vindictively. This time the plaster let go aid slipped up to the corner of his mouth.

‘jS'ow it’s all right, dear,’ smiled Mrs Spoopendyke, anxious to secure peace in the family, * It is all right now 1’

‘ Think it is, do ye V raved Mr Spoopendyke, with a fearful grin, ‘ Maybe you’ve got the same idea that court plaster has’! P’raps you think that mouth was cut with a razor? Maybe you’re under the impression that this hole in my visage was meant to succumb to the persuasion ot a bit of plaster! Como off ! Let go that mouth!’ and as he gave it a wipe it stuck to the palm of his hand as though it had been born there.

‘ Let me try,’ suggested Mrs Spoopendyke, ‘ I know how to do it,’ ‘ Then why didn't ye do it first?’ howled Mr Spoopendyke. ‘ What did ye want to wait until I’d lost three gallons of gore for ? Oh, you know how to do it ! You only want a linen pack and a bottle of much age up your side to be a country hospital ? Stick ! dod gast ye !’ and he clapped the wrong hand over his jaw. I’ll hold you there till ye stick, it I hold ye there till, my wile learns .something !’ and Mr Spoopendyke pranced up and down the room with a face indicative of stern determination. 1 Let me see, dear,’ said his wife, approaching him with a smile, and gently drawing away his hand she deftly adjusted another piece of plaster. ‘ That was my piece after all,’ growled Mr Spoopendyke, eyeing the job, and glancing at the palm of his hand to find the piece of plaster gone. ‘ You always come in after the funeral.’ ‘I guess you’ll find your piece sticking in the other hand, dear,’ said Mrs Spoopendyke. pleasantly. : 01 course you can tell,’ snorted Mr Spoopendyke, verifying his wife’s assertion with a glance. ‘lf I had your insight with a pack of cards I’d hire a shot tower and set up for an astronomer !’ and Mr Spoopendyke, who evidently meant astrologer, wore that piece of blood-stained court plaster on his hand all day long rather than admit by taking it off, that his wife had ever been right in anything. Brooklyn Eagle.