The Democratic press. [volume] (Ravenna, O. [Ohio]) 1868-1901, 1882-03-09
Going to Bed Mad.
Mr. spoopendyke Objects to the Publicity Which
Has Been Given His Domestic Habits

MIR. spoopendyke Objects to the Publicity Which
Has Been Given His Domestic Habits
"Say. nv dearr' roared Mr. Spoopen-
dyke, as he dashed into the room and
fell into a chair, ''did you know that
that section of stove pipe, with handy
legs and Il Presbyterian steeple nose,
had published 4 book about you ana
me?"
Nor exclaimed Mrs. Spoopendyke.
s'You don't tell me! Is it anything hike
Napoleon Bonaparte crossing the Alps!'
NO. it amt anything like Napoleon
Bonaparte crossing the Alpsm snorted
Mr.. Spoopendyke ''And it aint any
thing ike Julius Hannibal crossing the
Hellespont! Nor it amt anything about
Queen Victoria, It's about you and me,
| tell YOU! It's all about our private life,
and the idiot always represents me rs
going to bed madr'
81 don't think that there's anything
in our private life to he ashamed OF"
said Mrs. Spoopendyke. land as to your
going to bed mad you generally do, don't
you, dear?"
ssWhat if l do?'' howled Mr.. Spoopcn-
dyke. S'pose lwant TO go to bed on
every news stand in the country done up
in cheap binding and bad type? Think
[ want posters out on the fences, 'Spoo-
pendylle going to bed mad, in paper 20
cents; Spoopendyke going to be mad,
with additions and preface by the author
price 80 cents; Spoopendyke going to
bed mad, bound in cloth with beveicd
edges; children cry for it and doctors
recommend it, price SIP Got an idea
that want to 90 to bed mad in twenty
four editions, with row with news
company, printers bills unpaid and a
paper manufacturer bowling for his
money? Wah-h-h-h!' yelled Mr.. Spoo-
pendyke 'It's book, tell you! Cut
on the edges. pasted on the back, cover
ed on the outside and reading matter all
over! Know what a book is? The only
difference between book and your
mouth is that the book shuts up once in
a while! Who gave him the facts?" and
Mr. Spoopendyke leaned back in his
chair and frothed at the mouth.
"What does the man say in his book?"
asked Mrs. Spoopendyke.
''He don't say anything! He don't get
chance! You do all the talking like
YOU do at home! 0, your a great wo-
man now! It's Mrs Spoopendyke this,
and Mrs. Spoopendyke that, and Mrs.
Spoopendyke around the corner, and
Mrs. Spoopendyke over the fence.
Shakspeare|s nowhere! You are the lead
ing literary character of the day! Who
gave him the facts? Who purveyed the
information? Who told him you were
an idiot that only needed wash bill
and a brother-in-law to be Guiteau
trial?''
Il don't quite know what you mean
faltered Mrs. SpoOpendyke. Il know
about the Guiteau trial and | hope Mr..
| Porter will win it, But | don't know
anything about being literary, and as
for Shakespeare, | think he is almost
as abStrusG as the Board of Educa
| ton
What | want to know is, who gave
| him the facts!'' roared Mr.. SpOopendyke
| Who gave this ten cent author with {
| five acre reputation the facts? How {
he ever find out that you didn't know
any more about keeping house than ;
frog doe8 about keeping bank ac
! count?'
I'm sure I don't know, dear" sale
Mrs. Spoopendyke soothingly. ''Mayb'
| he is only a newspaper man who pub
fishes facts first and then trusts to lucl
to find them out afterward. What doe
he say about me?''
''Say about your squealed Mr.. Spoo
! pendyke. "He don't say enough! IL
/ only leaves the impression th;sea dia
mond drill, q steam engine, fair weathe
and low wages might make an impress
sion on your skull! Do you appreciate
the enormity of the situation? Do yo'
! reach out and grasp, cOmprehensiyely
+ the unalterable fact that your marke
| value is twenty-five cents in paper ant
81 in cloth? Can you absorb the ide;
that in illustrating your red, white AM
blue virtues he has dragged me int
his book, so as to give character to it?'
.DOes he mention you, too?" eXclaim
ed Mrs. Spoopendyke, with an air of i'll
| dignation.
Mr.. Spoopendyke rose to his feet
| Slowly he divested himself of his cloth
ing and slammed the various articles OF
the floor, keeping his eye fixed on hi
trembling wife.
Mrs. Spoopendylle," said he, as h,
pranced into bed ''bc kind enough t,
regard me as the cheap edition. Thc
honor of cloth, with beveled edges, golC
| letters on cover and the name spelled
wrong belongs to you. With that ant
| your literary attainments, combined
with your disposition to reflect discredi
on an insane jatilass you only need YOU
corners turned down, your back tori
oil to be circulating library!' Will
which profound illustration Of his con
tempt for the situation, Mr.. Spoopen
dyke drew his pillow over his head anC
kicked vigorously.
Il don't care, > thought Mrs Spoopen
dyke, as she ran . gathering string
through the neck of the baby's new
wrapper; IF the man says that Mr.
Spoopendyke goes to bed mad every
night lac tells the truth, and if hc does
that | don't care what he says about
me. What / wonder most about is how
long a speech the foreman of the Jury
will make about Mr.. Guiteau.'
And Mrs. Spoopendyke crawled in on
her side of the couch and then flopped
ont again to see if the man under tho
bed had not by some possibility got in.
to the match safe and pulled the cover
over himself. Brooklyn Eagle.