Cheyenne transporter. [volume] (Darlington, Indian Terr.) 1879-1886, 1881-08-25
SPOOPENDYKE AS A SPORTSMAN.
He Purchases a Gun and Explains to
Mrs. S. the Method Of Using It.

dyke, as he drew a gun from the case
and eyed it critically, 81 want you to
wake me up early in the morning; I'm
going shooting"
isn't that too SWEET calculated
Mrs. Spoopendyke. III wear my new
dress and my Saratoga waves.
Where do we go?"
"Pm going down on the island, and
you'll probably go as faras the front
door," grunted Mr.. Spoopendyke.
women don't go shooting. It's only
men. All you've got to do is to wake
me up and get breakfast. When l
come home we'll have some birds"
won't that be niceY" chimed
Mrs. Spoopendyke. "Can you catch
birds with that thing?' and Mrs.
Spoopendyke huttered around the i'm
proved breech-loading shotgun, firmly
impressed with the idea that it was
some kind of a trap.
81 can kill 'em with this" explained
Mr.. Spoopendyke. THAT is a gun, my
dear; it isn't a nest with three speckled
eggs in it, nor is it a barn with a hole
in the roof. You stick the cartridge in
here and pull the finger-piece, and
down comes your bird every time"
"Well, isn't that the greatest thing!
1 suppose if you don't want a partridge,
you can stick a duck or a turkey in
that end, too, or a fish or a lobster, and
bring it down just as quick"
Eyes, or you can stick a house or a
corn-field, or a dod-gasted female idiot
in there, too, if you want to-" snorted
Mr.. Spoopendyke. "Who said any
thing about a partridge? It's a car
fridge that goes in there"
"Ohp' calculated Mrs. Spoopendyke,
rather crestfallen. 81 see now. Where
does the bird go?"
"He goes to night school, if he hasn't
any more sens than you have" snorted
Mr.. Spoopendyke. "Look here, now,
and I'll show you how it works" And
Spoopendyke, whose ideas about a gun
were about as vague as those of his
wife, inserted the cartridge half way
in the muzzle end, and cautiously
cooked the weapon.
"And when the bird sees that he
comes and pecks at it! Isn't that the
funniestr' and Mrs. S~poopendyke
clapped her hands in the enjoyment OF
her discovery. Then you put out
your hand and catch him."
you've struck itr' howled Mr.
~Spoopendyke, who had the hammer or
h%alf-cocked, and was vainly pulling al
the trigger to get it down. "That'S
the idea! All you need is your feathers
and a gas bill TO be a martingale, With
your notions, you only want a new
stock and a steam trip-hammer to be {
needle-gun! Don't you know that dod'
gasted thing has got to 90 off before
you get a bird. You shoot the birds
you don't wait for 'em to shoot YOU.
"At home we always used to choI
their heads off with an AK" faltered
Mrs. SpOOpendyke.
$50 would /, if | was going after
measly Old hens" retorted Mr.. SpOop-
endyke, who managed to uncock the
cOntriyance, "but when | go for yellow
birds and sparrows, / 90 like a sports
man. While I'm waiting for a bird
continued Mr.. SpOopendyke, adjusting
the cartridge at the breech, 81 put the
load in here for safety. And when
see a flock | aim and fire"
Bang! went the gun, knocking The
tail feathers out of an eight-day clocl
and blowing a foot furrow in the wall
perfOrating the closet door and culmi
mating in Mr.. Sp~oopendyke's plug hat
Goodness Gracious!' %squeaked Mrs
Spoopendyke. son, my"
Mr.. SpoOpendyke gathered himself
up and contemplated the damage.
"Why couldn't We keep still2' ht