Belmont chronicle. [volume] (St. Clairsville, Ohio) 1855-1973, 1881-02-10
A SLIGHT INDISPOSITION.
MIR. SpOOpendyke at the Mercy of Pills
and Fruit.


That's BETTER" groaned Mr.. Speopen
dyke, as his wife arranged the cool pill
low under his head; now l can di,
looking out upon the trees and sky" ant
Mr.. Spoopendyke assumed a resigned
expression of visage and gazed out O
the corner of one eye upou a bare allan
thus tree and q half dozen telegraph
wires.
''Oh, you won't die" said Mrs. Spoop
endyke, cheerfully. You're only a lit
tie sick, and you'll get over it"
That's all you know about it," snarl
ed Mr.. SpOOpendyke. "To hear you tall
one would think you had only to be fit
ted up with little beds and bad smell tC
be a Government hospital. I'm down
sick, | tell ye, and don't want any fool
ing about it."
well, WE'LL" cooed Mrs. Spoopendyke
don't excite yourself. Keep quiet and
you'll get we'll"
much you'd care" muttered Mr.
Spoopendyke, turning on his side and
resting his cheek on his hand, an atti.
tude generally assumed by martyred
spirits on the approach of dissolution.
"Will you take your drops again, dear 2
asked Mrs. Spoopendyke. Its time for
them"
NO, won't. They're nasty. Haven't
had anything but drops for week
From the way you administer drops
one would think you were the trap door
of hanging machine. Gimme some figs ~
But there amt any figs, dear. I'll go
and get you some," said Mrs. Spoopen-
dyke.
"That's it." growled her husband.
"YOu want an excuse to leave me to die
alone. Why haven't We got some figs
You might know I'd want figs. Got any
citron?"
mo, haven't any citron, but won't
be more than minute away, and I'll get
you any fruit you want"
"Oh! Yes. You'd get it, l have no
doubt. What you want is rail fence
around you and gate off the hinges to
be dod gasted orchard. Fetch me some
Strawberries"
why, strawberries are out of season.
There amt any in the market now."
Il supposed you'd say that" moaned
Mrs. Spoependyke. you've always got
some excuse. If should die, you'd have
an apology ready. Gimme something to
take this taste out of my mouth
What would you like, dear ?" asked
Mrs. Spoapendyke.
"Soap. dod gast it! Gimme soap if
yon can't think of anything else," de-
marded Mr.. Spoopendyke. Mebbe you
amt got any soap. At least,You wouldn't
have if 1 wanted it. Got any cher
ries ?"
mo; they are out of season. There
are some grapes in the closet"
"Don't want any measly grapes. If 1
can't have what want, don't want it.
Where's those drops? Why don't you
give me my medicine? Going to let me
die for want of little attention? Want
the life insurance, don't ye? Going to
give me those drops before the next cleo
tion?"
Mrs. Spoopendyke ladled out the dose,
half of which went down Mrs. Spoopen-
dykes gullet and half over the front of
his night shirt.
"That's it," he howled "Spill 'em.
They're for external application. Put
'em anywhere. Put 'em up the CHM
ney," and Mr.. SpOopendyke fired the
spoon across the room.
Have piece of orange to take the
taste away?" asked Mrs. Spoopendyke,
pleasantly.
No, l WON'T" objected her spouse.
Gimme piece of muskmelon."
81 don't believe they have any musk
melons in February" sighed Mrs. Spoop-
endyke.
"Of coarse they DON'T" responded Mr..
Spoopendyke.
"They don't have anything when I'm
sick. It's "a wonder they have houses.
It's a miracle that they have doctors and
drug stores. I've got to hurry up and
die or they won't have any undertakers,
or coffins, or graves. S'pese I'm going
to lay here and chaw on the taste of
those drops for month";"
You'd like those grapes" suggested
his wife.
mo, L wouldn't, either What do you
want me to eat 'em for? Got any inter
est in the grape tradep Get any COM
mission on those grapes? Anybody pay
you to made me eat 'em? One would
think you only wanted an iron arbor and
four small boys climbing over you to be a
grapevine. Where's my pill?"
You took your pill, dear" replied his
patient wife.
"Oh, of course. A pill is out Of sea-
son now. Can't even have pill when l
feel like it," and Mr.. Spoopendyke
groaned in spirit and looked dismal
Now, sit down, and don't move. want
to sleep. Don't you make bit of noise
if you want me to live"
And Mrs. Spoopeneyke held her breath
and never rustled a feather while her
husband lay and glared out of the win
dow for an hour and half.