Mower County transcript. [volume] (Lansing, Minn.) 1868-1915, 1876-11-02
A Silent BenefdctOr.

Winter from rheumatism in his breast,
and his wife was badly frightened
about it for fear it should end in con-
sumption. Cooley could not be in.
duced to try any remedy for the trou.
BILE, and Mrs. Cooley was nearly wor.
ried to death about it. At last she de.
termined to try strategy. She made
up a dry mustard plaster, and one
night while he was sound asleep she
sewed it upon the inside of his under.
shirt, so that it would just about cover
the rheumatic place. Cooley dressed
himself in the morning, wholly unsus.
picious of the presence of the plaster,
and went down stairs. At the break
fast table, while he was talking to his
wife, he suddenly stopped, looked
cross-eyed, and a 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 expla-
nation of the political situation, when
all at once he ceased again, grew red in
the face, and exclaimed:
Il wonder what in thc-no, it can't
be anything wrong"
Mrs. Cooley asked him what was the
matter, and Cooley said:
"Oh, it's that Internal ola rheuma.
tism again-cOme back awful. But l
never felt it exactly the same way be-
fore. 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
Summer, and the potato bug in the
East, would affect the political result
next Fall by making the people dis.
contented, and SO likely to strike at
the party in power, when he suddenly
dropped the subject, and, jumping up,
said:
"Thunder and lightning, what $ that!
Ouch! 0 Moses! l feels if l had a
shovelful of hot Goals inside my shirt
''Must be that rheumatism, getting
worse" said Mrs. Cooley, oympathet-
ically.
ooh, 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
a minute. I believe it's cholera. or
something, and I'm going to die
''Do try to be calm, Mr.. Cooley
|
a volcano under his shirt. Get out of
the way, quick, while l 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 a boiled lobster; but
he couldn't, for the life of him, tell
what was the matter. Then his eyes
rested upon something white OH his
shirt. He picked up the garment and
examined it. Ten minutes later he
came slowly down stairs, with a dry
mustard plaster in his hands while
thunder clothed his brow.
Going up to Mrs. Cooley, he shook
the plaster under her nose, and said, in
a suppressed voice:
clothes p
Il did it for the best, Mr.. Cooley -
she said. 81 thought
! "Oh, never mind what you thought,
| you idiot! Never mind what you
thought! You've taken the skin clear
off my bosom, so that I'm as raw as a
sirloin steak, and I'll probably never
be we'll again as long as I live. That
lets 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 out. Mrs. Cooley doesn't know
to this day what effect the grasshop
pers are going to have on the Fall