The Bossier banner. [volume] (Bellevue, Bossier Parish, La.) 1859-1952, 1876-09-28

anu his WIG was D8uly Irl&uI0u0u
about it for fear it should end in. con-
sumption. Cooley could not be induced
to try any remedy for the trouble, and
Mrs. Cooley was nearly worried to
death about it. At last she determined
to try strategy. She made up dry
mustard plaster, and one night while he
was asleep she sewed it upon the inside
OF his undershirt, SO that it would just
about cover the rheumatic place.
Cooley dressed himself in the morning,
wholly unsuspicious of the presence of
the plaster, and went down stairs. At
the breakfast table, while he was talk
ing to his wife, he suddenly stopped,
looked cross-eyed, and . spasm of pain
passed over his face. Then he took
up the thread of the conversation again
and went on. He was in the midst of
an explanation of the political situation,
when all at once he ceased again, grew
red in the face and exclaimed:
II wonder what in the-no, it can't
be any thing wrong"
Mrs. Cooley asked what was the mat
ter, and Cooley said:
80, it's that Internal old rheumatism
again, come back awful. But l never
felt it exactly the same way before.
Kinder stings me-" Mrs. Cooley said
she was sorry.
Then Mr.. Cooley began again, and
was Just showing ler how the ravages
of the grasshoppers in the West last
summer and the potato bug in the East
would effect the political result next
fall by making the people discontented
and SO likely to strike at the party in
power, when he suddenly dropped the
subject, and, jumping, he said:
"Thunder and lightning, what's that!
Ouch! O, Moses! feels il / had q
shovelfull of hot Goals inside my shirt. -
s'Must be that rheumatism, getting
worse" said Mrs. Cooley, sympatheti-
cally.
80, gracious, mol It's something
worse than rheumatism. Feels like fire
burning into my skin. Ouch! Ow-wow-
WOW. It's awful. / can't stand it q
minute. I believe its cholera, or some
thing, and I'm going to de-
ssDo try to be calm, Mr.. Cooley"
Calm! How can man be calm with
q volcano boiling over under his shirt.
Get ont Of the way, quick, while l GO
up stairs and undress. Murder-r-r-r,
but it hurts. Let me get out, quick. >
Then he rushed up to the bedroom
and stripped off his clothes. His ches'
was the color Of . boiled lobster; but
he couldn't for the life Of him tell whaI
was the matter. Then his eyes rested
upon something white on his shirt. HI
picked up the garment and examined
it. Ten minutes later he came dowr
stairs with q dry mustard plaster in hi
hand, while thunder clothed his brow
| Going up to Mrs. Cooley, he SHOOT
the plaster under her nose, and said II
a suppressed voice: flsas
ibid You put that thing in m.
clothesP'
"I did it for the best, John, " she said
81 thought
80, never mind what You ltossGAs
you idiot! Never mind what you thought
You've taken the skin clear off my bos
ON, SO that I'm as raw as sirIoil
steak, and I'll probably never be vel
again as long 8 | live. That lets yo'
out. You play any more tricks lik.
that on me, and I'll put you in the coal
bin, and keep you there till You starv'
| to death. Now mind me.n
Then he slammed the door and wen
out. Mrs. Cooley doesn't know to thi
day what effect the grasshoppers ar'
going to have on the fall elections
Philddelphi1 BHlletin.
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