The Bolivar bulletin. [volume] (Bolivar, Hardeman County, Tenn.) 1865-1888, 1883-04-19
Mr.. Jones Has an Attack.


When Mr.. Jones came home the Other
evening he discovered that the hall car.
pet was up and hOuse-cleaning was in
/ progress. 1t gave him hurt, lone.
some sort of feeling to see the hat-rack
standing on its head, and he marched
/ mournfully into the library, and after
/ falling overa roll of carpet and an empty
I coaI-hod, hung his hat on the chande-
/ Iler, and pulling off his boots. set them
/ carefully on his desk, while he oroped
about for his slippers. His intention was
/ to join his family at the supper-table,
but as Mrs. Jones and the children seat
ed themselves in expectation of his
coming they were Mortified to hear a
dismal shrek from the library.
1T it'll pa" said Willie, with his
mouth full of buttered toast.
q He's killed himself" said johnny.
'Howly Moses! what ais the man
now?'' echoed Bridget, as they all
rushed in pell-mell. The unfortunate
head of the house was lying on the sofa
apparently dead
Jeptha, dearest! what is it? Look
at me, darling speak to your own
Maria" walled Mrs. Jones. THROWING
herself violently on his chest.
The lips of the PROSTATE man moved
-" M-a-r-i-a,' he murmured, feeTJv.
"the-this -a-a-tack-will be fataIr'
Run for the DOCTOR" shrieked Mrs.
Jones. $50 as fast as you can, Willie;
tell him your poor pa is dying! Oh
Jeptha, can you have the heart to
leave me?'
'MisfOrtunits never come alone, -
said Bridget, wringing her hands, "it'S
Iolke man, it is, to go and die in
hOuse-cleanin' tonne; the crathurs
haven't emmy more sinse nor a him
"Oh, shrieked Mrs. Jones, ''it's par.
alysis; look at his left legn'
. rde was putting that useful member
through series of gymnastic exercises
of a remarkable character.
Hold me! hold met" he howled in
voice of anguish, but when Bridget
approached with that Iaudable purpose
he gave kick of spasmodic pain that
landed her on the other side of the
room; just as Mrs. Jones had turned a
bottle of camphor over his head, and
Bridget, shielded behind the sofa, had
grasped one hand as if it had been a
pile-driver, the doctor entered.
"What is the, ah-nature of the at
tack-ah?" he asked, sOlemnly.
Jones tried to speak, but all he
could get through his chattering teeth
was repetition of the word " attack
attack
The doctor examined the pupils of
Jones eyes, and tried to look at his
tongue, but got bitten for his pains.
"This looks serious" said the doc
tor, sucking his wounded thumb.
" Nerves need relaxing, think l shall
bleed him! Phlebotomy is an old prac-
tice coming into vogue again. l have
my lancet with me-"
But at this moment Jones gave a
plunge with his left leg that unseated
the doctor, and frightened Mrs. Jones
into Mysteries. Then be spoke in an
awtully clear and distinct voice:
eff you don't take that cursed-oh-
ah-tack out of the sole of my foot I'll
get up and murder you air.
When the doctor and Bridget and
Mrs. Jones had managed by their united
strength to pull out that leather-headed
carpet-tack Jones said he would take a
pint of whisky to cauterize the wound.
and would try to live for the sake of his
family, and the doctor said as he left
that if blOod-poisoning or Iock-iaw
didn't set in he thought he would re-
cover.
But it has set house-cleaning back in
shat family for another week.-Dctrou
Post.