The Portland daily press., 1881-04-29
The Spoopendykes.
How They Missed the Masquerade.
brooklyn Eagle.1

brooklyn Eaglel
Say, my dear" said Mr.. Spoopendyke, as
he hurried in, hot and breathless late from his
business, "did you get me a fancy dress for the
masquerade tonight"
"Its all ready" replied Mrs. Spoopendyke,
beaming. "You go as-let me see. 1 go as
Spanish guitar girl, and you go as-as-it's
either Louis Fourteenth, or DOlver Cromwell,
or Sir Robert Burns, I've forgotten which the
man called it."
81 do. do I?" said Mr. Spoopendyke glariDg
around, II go as one of em, do? AS they
are all Dead and as I will do for all three, per-
haps you got coffin. Fetch out the intercon-
vertible catafalque aud help me on with It,
Has it got sleeves?"
1T isn't coffin" explained Mrs. Spoopen-
dyke. cts a doublet and"
"It's doublet, is it? Well, it relieves me
of one of 'em. 1 thought from the way you
spoke, it was a triplet. Is there a trousers
with it? Got a shirt? told you to get me
bandit suit, didn't L? Fetch out this Crom-
well business! Show me this man Burnsi Any
sword to 90 with it?"
Mrs. Spoopendyke brought forth a worn red
velvet jacket, trimmed with tarnished braid,
and pair of yellow velvet knee breeches,
slashed up the side. This she supplemented
with felt hat, and pair of jack boots armed
with spurs.
maybe it is bandits suit, after ALL" she
suggested.
(Which is the Louis Fourteenth end of this
thing?" demanded Mr.. Spoopendyke. "where
does the Oliver Cromwell part begin? Show
me the Burns element on this scheduled II
I'm going to get into this thing chronological
ly, I must begin with the measly king and
wind off with the dod gasted poet; which is
the king part?" and Mr.. Sooopendyke shot out
Of his business suit and drew on the velvet
trousers where's the rest of emp" he de-
manded, surveying an expanse of unclothed
limb. "This whole thing is only one leg.
Where's the pair for the other leg? Give me
some more trousers" and Mr.. Spoopendyke
scowled about him.
U"Don't the boots come up to meet them?'
asked Mrs. Spoopendyke, in some trepidation
Mr.. Spoopendyke pulled on the boots but
still there was an exposed space Of nearly a
foot.
81 s'pose this barelegged arrangement is the
Burns part" grinned Mr.. Spoopendyke. He
was Highlander, and this much Of me is
Burns. Show me the Cromwell part now. Is
that nat and Mr. put on the
me? My head and legs are all right; bring out
my back and stomach"
Mrs. Spoopendyke handed him the Jacket
and he plunged into it with jerk.
Couldn't you make more'n three epochs Of
me? Didn't the man have but three histori-
cal dates? Pull that jacket down q couple of
centuries. can't ye? Don't you see the bottom
of the dod gasted thing is two hundred years
from reaching the waistband Of the Burns
breeches?" and Mr.. Spoopendyke tugged at
the abbreviated coat and snorted with wrath
May be that was the way it was meant to
CO." argued Mrs. Spoopendyke. 81 saw
o,aoIs You sawed Oft t, the coat and pants, now
again! When did Cromwell wear that hat?
What kind of q bet did he win on that? Say,
where's the scaffold that goes with those meas
ly politicians? Fetch out the headsmani" and
Mr.Spoopendykc danced in Ia tho oiooee and out
again. "Where's the louise that goes with the
Burns part? Bring me some Charles /, to hide
my legs! Praise God from whom all blessings
flow, for man was made to mourn because his
head was chopped off" shrieked Mr. Spoopen-
dyke, combining the historical ideas he repre-
sented in one grand yell. Fetch me three sup-
pers for one dod gasted old idiot that trusted to
his wife to find a suit for him!" and Mr.. Spoop.
er's hat and split the coat of the lamented
Louis from tail to collar band. "Look out for
some Scotch roniance!' and he ripped off the
pants and fred them into the crate. "Here
comes anOtner page Ill tne annals Oh crlne!''
and the boots went out the window.
"And we-can't go-go to the-mas-mas-
querade at all!'' sobbed Mrs. Spoopendyke.
Write an epitaph on the back of my neck,
and I'll go as a tombstone!" yawped Mr..
Spoopendyke. "Put three bells in my side
and a torn stair carpet at my back and I'll 20
as French fiat! Discharge the hired girl and
get up cold dinner, and I'll go as boarding
house! But if you think III 60 to any measIy
masquerade in bare legs like baby and bare
backed like circus just to advertise hymn
book, gin mill and a broad axe factory you're
left, Mrs. Spoopendyke. You hear me? You're
left!" and Mr. Spoopendyke drew on his night
shirt.
"It's too awfully mean for anything mused
Mrs. Spoopendyke as she laid away the Span
sh guitar girls costume, and warmed up her
crimping pins. II tried to get something that
would suit him, and he don't appear pleased
with it. Another time I'll get him o
pair of socks and sheet and he can 60
as Roman Senator, and if he is disappointed
and tears 'em up, it won't cost much.' With
which profound reflection Mrs. Spoopendyke
said her prayers and planting her cold feet in
Mr.. Spoopendyke's stomach sank gently to
rest