Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1881-03-26
SPOOPEN DYKE,
Has an Adventure with a Dog.


Look here, my DEAR" said Mr. spoopendyke,
as he led huge and shaggy dog into his wife's
room, i've got dog, friend Of mine gaze me-
What DO you think of him?"
Good gracious" exclaimed Mrs. Spoopcn-
DYKE mounting Chair In dismay. is he
No. Mrs. Spoopendyke,r retorted her hus-
band, "he not only is not mad, but he isn't a
stepladder either, 1or birds eye view. He's a
dog; ana II you don't get down ont OF that
chair, he'll probably bite your legs off,"
eyed the brute with some treptdation.
Maybe he's got the hydrophobia," she sug-
ge5ted " way OF a hearty welcome.
''but II he has he's got 1t in his pocket. Come
here, doggee. doggee. doggee"' and MIR. 5000
pendSke snapped his fingers persuaslveiy.
Why doht he come when you call hira?''
the proceedings
Because you make such a dod gasted noise
YOU scare him. explained Mr.. spoopendyke.
81 don't quite like the way bis tongue hangs
cut objected Mrs. Spoopendyke. ut don't
maybe you don't like the way his tall hangs
out, either P'raps you think that's artificial,
too. With your Information about dogs you
only need a Stat bottom and q broken hinge to
be a dog pound. Keep quiet, now, while
teach him some trickS. Come here, doggee! Sit
up. sir"
The dog stretched cut his forelegs, opened a
mouth Ike folding bedstead and growle1.
"What makes him do that?' asked Mrs.
Spoopendyke. sitting On the back OF the chair
with her feet in the seat.
Pod Go dUd CAST Mr. spoopenayke
he works on wire? Got notion he goes by
steam? He don't. l tell We, he's alive, and he
does it because that's the bent OF his measly
mind. what are ye sitting up there for? Can't
doggee, doggee, good doggee. sit up and beg!'
and Mr. Spoopensyke held up an admonltory
finger.
thing but an assuring glance.
Hes hungry" suggested Mrs. Spoopendyke.
Dogs do not like that when they want to be
taken down In the yard and fed"
end UI course you knoW grq nar NJ Spoop
en- the part OF the police TO be a dog fight.
Got anything In the house for him to eaI?"
There's some cold oyster stew, and piece
CT custard pie"
"That's IL" raved Mr.. Spoopendske.
That's what's the matter With the dog. He
wants pie. You've got Ii. You only nee1 a
committee and fight over the proceeds to be
bench show. Where's the oysters? Havnt
ye got some cold coffee? Give him a lemon
to stay his stomach" and MI. Spoopendyke
Jumped straight up into the air and landed on
the dog, The dog made for the open air with q
howl, and MIR. Spoopendyke gathered uD twelve
baskets Of himself and locked after his prize.
Never mind, dear" said Mis-. Spoopendyka
soothisgly, hell come back"
al be does IN kill him." shouted Mr..
Spoopendyke. see What you've done? You've
made me losa nay dog and torn my trousers.
Anything more about dogs you don't know?
Cot an! more Intelligence to impart about
around your neck and snow storm to be a
monk OF st. Bernard" with which logical con-
clusfon Mr. Spoopendyke began exploring his
outlying districts for possible bites, while his
wife speculated upon the salvation of the cold
oysters and The custard PIE by the sudden and
eminently satisfactory disafectiOn OF the dog.