SPOOPENDYKE AND THE FIDDLE.

Thames Star, Volume XIV, Issue 4491, 28 May 1883, Page 3

SPOOPENDYKE AND THE FIDDLE.

" Now, my. dear," said Mr Spoopendyke, when the supper dishes were cleared away, " I have brought home b yiolin, and should be pleased to have you play some duets with m? this evening." " Ob ! but ain't I happy, though," fluttered Mrs Spoopendyke, delighted to have a chance of roakint? herself pleasant to her husband. "Here's just a lovely piece, called * See that my Grave's kept Green/ by Mr Moreeaux; let's play that." "No ! Mrs Spoopendyke," growled her husband ; "we won't play about graves or anything green; or keeping anythine clean, or anything of the kind, we'll play'Sweetßy and»By.*" They got ready at last, and after two or three flourishes, Mr Spoonpendyke drew the bow across the strings, but not a sound came from the fiddle.

"Ob, but isn't that just too funny?" giggled Mrs Spoonpendyke, watching the performance with her hands on the piano. Oh, but isn't it ?" yelled Mr Spoopen dyke. Mlt's the most inquisitely funny ,tbing that was ever known. With your appreciation of humour ,all your nred. is a joke about a goat on the first page and an • ad,' of St. Jacob's oil to be a copy of *Puck on Wheels.' Don't you see the xneasley bow only needs resin ?" Wheii the bow was resin ed they tried it again.'"."-..' :,.. ,', „ : „ , This time there was noise enough, but the horrid discords were past all bearing. "What ails the measley thing?" screeched Spoopendyke. "What's the yillain been selling me, anyhow ?" "Maybe you didn't tune it first," yentured his wife, timidly. ." Oh, you're got it now, Mrs Spoopendyke haven't ye?" screamed her husband. "Didn't tune it, did IP that's what's the matter! You know all about it, don't ye ? All you need is a bald headed man beating time and two kegs of beer to be a Thomas' orchestra."

He tuned the ▼iolin, however, and started to play once more. It went tetter for the first three bars, but in the fourth a* string broke and hit him a stinging blow on the eye. "There, I told you so," whimpered Mrs Spoopendyke, rushing for a wet towel.

"Confound the measley fiddle," screeched Spoopendyke, smashing it into atoms over the head of a marble statue of Shakespeare on the centre-table, and then dancing around the fragments. "Can't you keep your month shut, Mrs Spoopendyke ? -You told me so, didn't ye ? If ye saw. me pulverised you'd yell out •Told ye so,' wouldn't ye? Got anything more to : tell ? Know any other murders or tragedies that are going to happen ? AlLyojn need is to have lived a few hundred years ago and ride on a broom to be a Mother Sbipton." With which climax Mr Spoopendyke fired himself into bed, after throwing the wet hankkerchief out of the window.

""Well," said Mrs Spoopendyke, hb she turned down the gas and put the recking rhair where her husband would fall; over it next morning when he went downstairs, "I was right, anyhow."— "Boomerang." .