St. Landry democrat. (Opelousas, La.) 1878-1894, 1885-03-21

and jammed his fists in the paste.
Nothing but profound silence" re-
torted her husband THE chief trouble
with the crust of your pie is that you al
low your attention to be distracted
from it at a critical moment. |, on the
contrary, will stop boxing this overcoat
for this mince-meat just at the second
it reaches fiakiness," and he slammed
in more flour and plunged into his
ambitious effort in the way of crust.
'Therer' said he, when he had fought
it to the consistency of sand and mucil-
age and rolled it out into two thick
chunks. There is the triumph of pie
over puttering! Lead out the pan
whom the gods would honor, and let's
see how this combination of hereditary
intelligence and acquired brains will go
when it's cooked!''
Mrs Spoopendyke handed him pie
pan into which he dropped his bottom
crust and then poured in his mince-
meat.
s'Got to lift your teeth pretty high to
| get around some of that meat, he OBJ
served, as he tried to poke the Jumps
into position with a stick. I'm not
sure whether mother used to CRATE the
meat or crack it with hammer, but it
don't make so much difference. It's the
crust that talks, when you come to con-
versation on pie. Now, you do this, "
and he marked out sprig on the top
crust with his thumb; and when you
get it ON, thus, you pinch it around
the edges, so. See? My mother used
to have an old wheel out of a wooden
clock, and she printed landscapes in
holes all over the pie. But that isn't
necessary. 1t adds luster, but no dig
nifty to the performance. Now, we put
it in the oven, this wise, and in a short
time we will have accomplished results
in the immediate line of pie.
1T is really wonderful how well you
remember how your mother made
them, smiled Mrs. Spoopendyke.
'tYou won't feel badly because it
beats yours?' said Mrs. Spoopendyke,
kindly. "You won't cry?" and he
chucked her under the chin and opened
the stoye-door cautiously to see how af-
fairs was progressing.
''Tll try not to" replied Mrs. Spoop-
endyke, casting her eyes down and
suppressing something that sounded
like q sob.
Lets see. You stick in broom
splint, don't you, when you want to
know if the pie is done? Where's your
broom9 Show me the happy broom
that is to be immortalized by testing
this grand apotheosis of pie!'
Mrs. Spoopendyke produced the
broom, and her husband. carefully Sc
lecring one Of the splints, jammed away
at the upper crust.
cit won't go in," he remarked, rather
dolefully, selecting another with SINH
lar results. .'The trouble is with the
broom. Haven't you got a broom that
knows something about its business, or
is this one of those pious brooms that
won't work Sundays?n and he broke up
several more splints in vain endeaYor
to penetrate the pie.
Hadn't you better try the handle,
dear?" suggested Mrs. Spoopendyke.
mo, hadn't better try the handle,
DEAR mimicked Mr.. Spoopendyke.
t'Come out here and let's see what's the
occasion for this uncalled-for resist
ancer' and Mr.. Spookendyke hauled his
pie out of the oven and fired it down on
the table. '+Got an idea you're going
to be assassinated with q broom-splint,
haven't We? Think you're sort of bull
wark of American libel ties and bound
to resent foreign intervention, don't We?
Well, you amt; you're only measly
pie, and you're going to have something
stuck in We, if it takes cold chisel and
a cannon!' and Mr.. Spoopendyke
stabbed at it with fork, and then with
a chopping- knife, without producing the
faintest impression. You're up in pie,
what d'ye s'pose is the matter with the
thing?" he asked, turning on his wife.
''lf I'd been your mother I should
have put some lard in, the crust, re-
turned Mrs. Spoopendyke, complacent-
ly.
Il don't know how you are going to
get lard into crust that you can't PEN
citrate with bayonet!'' retorted Mr..
Spoopendyke, upon whom it began to
dawn that there was hitch some
where. ''I've almost forgotten how
mother did try pies to see if they were
done.
'.Did she ever try a club ?" inquired
Mrs. Spoopendyke, timidly.
''No, she didn't try club!' roared /
Mr.. Spoopendyke. 'sCome hither, my /
gentle PIER he howled, planting his {
list in the middle of the apparatus.
. Listen to the voice of the siren inquir-
ing within!'' and he dropped it on the I
door and planted his heel on it. Front t
loor closed for repairs; entrance at the '
oack" and he kicked the whole bust {
less to the ceiling. /
!" Your mother must have been very {
rigorous for her age,'' observed Mrs. t
Spoopendyke, calmly. t
Its those easted Inmns of meat. ;, 8