SPOOPENDYKE'S BRUISED ARM.

Wairarapa Daily Times, Volume 5, Issue 1484, 15 September 1883, Page 4

SPOOPENDYKE'S BRUISED ARM.

—— ■* " Why, what's the matter, my dear?" , i.-il Mrs Spoopendyke, as Mr Rpoopmulyke limped into the rooni,"li'ntl dropped into a clmir. " What on earth lias happened to you 1" "I fell down and killed myself," moaned Mr Spoopendyke. "How? where?" asked Mrs Spoopendyke, bustling around him, all nervousness. " How did you do it?" " Slipped on the ice, and broke my arm from head to foot," sighed Spoopendyko, faintly. "Great gracious!" ejaculated Mrs Spoopendyke," whereabouts ? Where did it happen?" " Out doors, confound it! Where d'ye H'pose I did it ? Think I brought the ice in the house and then laid on it? Oh, dear' I'll nover get my clothes offag-iin. V ". got to sit here and die," and Mr Spoupendyke leaned back in the chair and closed bis eyes with

resignation. " IT, help you off with your hat and overcoat," suid Mrs Spoopcudykf ten-(l-.-rly, ''Let me help you." •' lie very arel'ul about taking off my hai,"sai Mr Spoupendyke, rousing up. " Uce it off easy or you'll hart my elli '. Pull the left arm of ray overcoat :wn, so that it will slip oil'. What ' Joins.' 1 Trying to skm me! Thai • "eve, is full of broken 1) mes, 1 '.e11;.:. Now help me into a chair. 1 kiv.iv I must go Some time, Imt I never expected to die so suddenly as thir.." and Mr Spoopendyke lifted bis sp: amed arm and dropped it again to sc- if them was any animation left in lii.-. system.

"Can't I do something for you, dear?'' Hiked Mrs Spoopendyke, with tearful eyes, '• If you could sing a hymn without starting up the cats it might make my last minutes more peaceful," replied Mr Spoopendyke, putting his feet on a chair and composing himself for dissolution.

"You'd better let me attend to your arm," recommended Mrs Spoopendyke. "If it is badly sprained you ought to have something on it." "Didn't I tell ye it was broken Just got curiosity to see it, haven't yo? Can't yo wait for the post-mortem, can ye ? Go ahead. Do what you please. In a little while I'll bo beyond pain. Just take it and do what you like with it," And Mr Spoopendyke stuck the mnimed arm out-straight and waved it around like a ham,

"If you'd let me rotate it a little, and then bind it up with arnica, you'd be all right in an hour," cooed Mrs Spoopendyke, affectionately. "Rotate it, then," murmured Mr Spoopendyke. "I don't suppose it will make much difference to my estate.- Take it down in the kitchen and rotate it. You might—Hold on, do! What d'ye think i am, a pump? Got an idea I'm a clock? Let go that arm, will ye?" And Mr Spoopendyke pranced around the room. "Oh! you're a surgeon, you are. All you want is a bucksaw and a broken balustrade to be a medical college. Going to pull it out by the roots ] S'poso that's a tooth 1 It isn't; it's an arm, and it's busted like a torpedo I" And Mr Spoopendyke, who had been brandishing the injured member, began to stroke his shoulder and dympathise with himself. " Let me batbo it in arnica," said Mrs Spoopendyke. "That's the best thing in the world. Just let me turn un your shirt sleeve, and I'll fix it in a mi.iiite." " » r ry g '0(1," said Mr Spoopendyke. '•ld-Vl si.ppose it will do any harm ti> hurry pi: iters. Is my dress ?nit all !"'iishcd" ILive i got a shirt with a tmtton on he back, to lie bmied in ? Ha..-1 got i pair of seeks that my

iinnrrUl si wont ahine tlirou»h the toe.; ■.f? '( if I liavn't, ye'd better use some ol ar measly arnica on my clothes. .[:■ ,i,i think I'm going, into. ■ Ii- fomlia! .■iT.-d with grease, and my shii 13 'j round' mi me like 1 W'S .i ~'.. in e, vwi're mhiaken, ■hi 's ,i;i. . nil Mr Spoopendyke ■■y ''"i ins ■"; i- , (I .vi!iii]y, while she pmpaiwl to lav- hi) sprained shoulder. " Will \oti \):\, me in a casket?" he moaned, as .she h >gau operations. '' '(.'». dear'' replied Mrs Spoopendyke.

Mr tSpiKnendyke regarded his. wife with one eye, and grunted feebly. '■And you'll put on a silver plate with my name and age, and get a few flowers! You don't want many, 1 shan't miss 'em if there ain't morc'n six. Will you attend to it?" " Ye*," answered Mrs Spoopendyke, " I'll see that you have lots of iloweis and a big.fun—" "I don't want any big funeral. S'pose I'm being cut off in the midst of my usefulness just because funerals are cheap ?" Have you got a clean handkerchief to put in my pocket when I'm dead?"

"Certainly, dear," replied Mrs Spoopendyke; and having thoroughly bathed the arm bandaged it carefully. "Don't you feel better?" " Perhaps if it .were amputated in time I might get well," rejoined Mr Sboopendyke, hitching his arm around to see if he could find a pain anywhere. " What kind of a cravat have I got to wear in case of—in the event of-the worst?" And Mr Spoopendyke approached the climax of his qnostion as becomes a man who shrinks from the inevitable,

"The one you've got on will do, won't it!" enquired Mrs Spoopendyke. " No, it won't, either. Is this all I've got? Expect I'm going to he buried among strangers in a necktie that won't hold together four days longer? Calculate that I'm going to the promised land as though I was hunting for a job? Wan't me to prowl around among the other late lamented as though I'd busted up in business ? Think I'm a measly ti amp ?" And Mr Spoopendyke tore iff the tio and stamped on it, and Ili• ■ n dove into bed. "Can't you bring up my breakfast?" demanded Mr Spoopendyke the next morning. "My arm's so lame I can't go down stairs," Mrs Spoopendyke brought it to him, and an hour later, when dressing, be -• .'■ " Vtie.

:-.. ,mi, iui/K iorii.' ..;.i(l Jie, CjUoruloualy. " You know I can hardly

move," ';,•' "Here it is, dear," said Mrs Spoopendyke, handing it to hip. "Y ou tore it off lust night with' yopr sprained arm," And she left for' downstairs without waiting to, hear his wmark about "measly wives, wno only need a long beard and a comic pong book to be a Solomon,"—Brooklyn '