The weekly miner. [volume] (Butte, Mont.) 1878-1881, 1881-10-18
Mr.. Spoopendyke and the Dog.

ssLock here my DEAR" said Mr.. Spoopen
dyke, as he led q huge and shaggy dog into
his wiie's room. 81 have a dog, a friend O
mine gave me. "What do you think of him?'
s.Good g gracious " calculated Mrs, Spoopen'
dyke, mounting a chair in dismay. "Is he
mad"
mo, Mrs. Spoopendyke,' retortsd her hus
baud, "he not only isn't mad, hut he isn't a
step ladder either, nor a birds eye view
He's a dog, and if you don't get out of that
chair, he'll PROBABLY take your legs off,"
Mrs. Spoopendyke sat down and eyed the
brute with some trepidation.
aMaybe he's got the hydrophopia," she
sags ested by way of a hearty welcome.
"r'raps he has," agreed Mr.. Spoopendyke ;
"but If he has he's got it in his pocket, Come
here doegee, doggee, doggee "' and Mr..
S~poopendyke snapped hi, fingers persuasive.
ly. '.
"Why don't he come when you call him ?"
asked Mrs, Spoopendyke, deeply interested in
the proceedings.
-@sBecause you make such a dodgas' ed noise
you scare him" explained Mr.. Spoopendyke.
"Come doegee, dogsee, doggee"
81 dont like tho way his tongue hangs out"
objected Mrs. Spoopendyke. at doesn't look
natural"
aMaybe you don't like the way his tail
hangs out either. P'raps you think that's ar
%tificial, too. With your information about
dogs you only need = slat bottom and a brok-
ell hinge to be q dog pound. Keep quiet now,
while l teach him some tricks. Come here,
dosgee, doggee. Sit ur, sir"
II dog stretched out his legs, opened his
mouth like a folding bedstead, and owled.
What makes him do that?" asked Mrs.
Spo opendyke, sitting on the ba K of a chair
with her feet in the seat.
"Dod CAST it," howled Mr.. Spoopendyke.
"Who do you suppose made him do that?
Think he works on a wire? Got a notion he
gees by steam? He don't. I'll tell you, he's
alive, and he does that because it's the bent
of his msasley mind. What are ye setting up
there for2 Now, keep still. Here, doggee
doggeA, sit up and beg!" and h. held up an
%admonitory finger.
The dog eyed Mr.. Spoopendyke with any
thing but an assuring glance.
"He's hungry" sugge sted .Spoopen-
dyke, "Dogs do like that when they want to
be taken down in the yard and fed"
:Ot Gcourse you know grumbled Mr..
Spoopendyke, "All you want is perfect iencr
ance on the part of the police to be a dog
fight. Got any thing in the house for Linn to
eat?"
siThere 10 some cold oyster stew and q piece
of custard Pie"
That's itw raved Mr.. Spoopendyks,
sThat's what's the matter with the dog! He
wants pie! You have it. You only need a
committee and q fight to be a bench show.
Where are the oysters? Don't you see the
dog pining for oysters? Haven't ye some
cold coffee for him? Give me 4 lemon to
stay his stomach ~ and Mr.. Spoopendyke
jumped straight up in the air and landed on
the dog.
The dog made for the open air with = howl
and Mr.. Spoopendyke gathered up twelve
baskets Of himself and started to look sfter
his prize.
~Never mind, DEAR" said Mrs. spoopsn-
dyke. ssothingly, she'll come back"
sIf he does I'll kill him." shouted Mr..
Spoopendyke, See what you've done! You
made me lose my dog and tear my trowsers.
Anything more about dogs you don't know !?
Got any more intelligence to impart concern
ing togs? All you . is = bucket at
brandy around you neck and = snow storm
TO be a monk of St. Bernard"
3 WithIwhich logical conclusion, Mr.. Spoop-
endyke began exploring his outlying districts
for possible bites, while his wife specialized
on the salvation Of the cold oysters and the
eus:ard pie by the sudden and eminently sat-
disaffection of the dog.-Brooklyn
Eagle.