The Vancouver independent. (Vancouver, W.T. [Wash.]) 1875-1910, 1876-10-28
A Silent Heuefactor.

"A 91X0nt 0CAOAbCNOAs
Mr.. Cooley suffered good deal last
Winter from rheumatism in his breast,
and his wife was badly frightened about
il for fear it should end in consump-
ton. 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 mp a dry mustard
plaster. and one night while he was
sound asleep she sewed it upon the in
side of his undershirt, so that it would
lust 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 talking
to his wife, he suddenly stopped, looked
cross-eyed, and Il spasm of pain crossed
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 Mt
once he ceased again, grew red in the
face, and exclaimed:
Il wonder what in the-no, it can't
be anything wrong"
Mrs. Cooley asked him what was the
matter, and Cooley said:
Oh, it's that internal old rheuma-
tism again-come back awful. But
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 how the ravages of
the grasshoppers in the West, last Sum
mer, and the potato bug in the East,
would affect the political result next
Fall by making the people discontinued,
and so likely to strike at the party in
power, when he suddenly dropped the
subject, and, jumping up, said:
Thunder and lightning, what's that ?
Ouch! o Moses! l feels if ] had a
shovelful of hot Goals inside my shirt. .
Must be that rheumatism, getting
worse" said Mrs. Cooley, sympathetic
ally.
oh. gracious, no! It's something
worse than rheumatism. Feels like fire
burning into my skin. Ouch! Ow-
wow-wow! It's awful. / can't stand it
minute. 1 believe it's cholera, OF
something, and I'm going to die"
Do try to be calm, Mr.. Cooley"
Calm! How can a man be calm
with volcano under his shirt. Get out
of the way, quick, while go up stairs
and undress. Murder-r-r-r-r, but it
hurts. Let me get out quick"
Then he rushed up to the bedroom,
and stripped off his clothes. His chest
was the color of boiled lobster; but he
couldn't, for the life of him, tell what
was the matter. Then his eyes rested
upon something white on his shirt. He
picked up the garment and examined it.
Ten minutes later he came slowly down
stairs, with dry mustard plaster in his
hand, while thunder clothed his brow.
Going up to Mrs. Cooley, he shook
the plaster under her nose, and said, in
suppressed voice:
did You put that thing in my
clothes?'
Il did it for the best. Mr.. Cooley
she said. 81 thought"
"Oh, never mind what you thought,
you idiot! Nevermind what you MoughE
You've taken the skin clear off my DO
som, so that Tn as raw as a sirloin
steak, and I'll probably never be well
again as long as live. That let's you
out. You play any more tricks like that
on me, and I'll put you in the coal-bin,
and keep You there till you starve to
death. Now mind me-
Then he slammed the door, and went
ont. Mrs. Cooley doesn't know to this
day what effect the grasshoppers are
going to have on the Fall elections.