The Cecil Whig. [volume] (Elkton, Md.) 1841-current, 1875-05-08
A SPELLING MATCH.

The other evening old Mr.. and Mrs. Cof-
fin, who lives on Brush street, sat in their
cozy back parlor he reading his paper and
she knitting, and the family cat stretched
out under the stove and sighed and felt
sorry for cats not so well fixed. 1t was
happy, contented household, and there was
love in his heart as Mr.. Coffin put down his
newspaper and remarked:
81 see that the whole country is becom-
ng excited about spelling schools"
"Well, its good to know how to SPELL"
replied the wife, 81. didn't have the
chance some girls had, but pride myself
that can spell almost any word that comes
along"
"rll see about that" he laughed; "come
now, spell buggy.
"Humph! that is nothing-b-u-gg
buggy" she replied.
"Missed the first time-ha! hal" he
roared, slapping his leg.
Not much-that was right"
alt was, Ell? "Well, I'd like to see
anybody get two g's in buggy, would"
"But it is spelled with two g's, and any
school boy will tell you so," she persisted.
"Well, know a darn sight better than
that" he exclaimed, striking the table
with his fist"
81 don't care what you know!' she
squeaked; 81 know that there are two g's
in buggy"
edo you mean to tell me that I've for
gotten how to spell?' he asked.
cit looks that way"
cit does, eh? Well, want you and all
your relations to understand that l know
more about spelling than the whole caboo-
die of you strung on wire!"
"And 1 want you to understand, Jona-
than Coffin, that you are an ignorant old
blockhead, when you don't put two g's in
the word buggy-yes, you are"
"Don't talk that way to meH' he warned.
"And don't shake your fist at en' she
replied
"Who's shaking his fist?''
"You were!"
"That's lie-an Internal lie!"
"Don't call me liar, you old bazaar!
I've put up with your meanness for forty
years past, but don't call me liar, and
don't lay hand on mel"
"Do you want divorce? ?" he shouted,
springing up; "you can go now, this min
ute''
"Don't spit in my face-don't you dare
| do it, or I'll make dead man of you!' she
warned.
81 haven't spit in your freckled old WIS.,
age yet, but I may if you provoke me
farther!''
"Who's got freckled face, you old tur-
key buzzard!"
That was little too much. He made a
motion as if he would strike and she seized
him by the neck-tie. Then he reached out
and grabbed her right ear and tried to lift
her off her feet, but she twisted up on the
neck-tie until his tongue ran out.
"Let go of me, you old fiend!" she
screamed.
"Git down on your knees and beg my
pardon you old wild cat!" he replied
They surged and swayed and struggled,
and the peaceful cat was struck by the over
turning table and had her back broken,
while the clock fell down and the pictures
danced around. The woman finally shut
her husbands supply of air off and Topped
him, and as she bumped his head up and
down on the floor and scattered his gray
hairs she shouted:
"You want to get up another spelling
school with me, don't you'll"
He was seen limping around the yard
yesterday, stocking pinned around his
throat, and she had court plaster on her
nose and one finger tied up. He wore the
look of a martyr, while she had the bear
ing of victor, and from this time out
"buggy" will be spelled with two g's in
that house. Detroit Free Press.