The Wheeling daily intelligencer. [volume] (Wheeling, W. Va.) 1865-1903, 1893-02-08
TINlDlINs' PRESENT.
He Brings it Homo in Triumph and scarc
His Wife,

His Wife,
CY.ioaqo httrOean
"Look hero, my dear" said Mr.. Tim
Minis. as he led n huge and shaggy dog
into his wife's room, GIVE gotta dog q
friend OF mine gave me. What do you
think OF him."
"Good gracious" exclaimed Mrs,
Timmins, mounting chair in dismay.
us he madP"
mo, Mrs. Tlmmins," retorted her
husband, "he not only is not mad, but
he isn't q step-ladder, nor bird's-eYe
view. He's q dog, and II you don't get
down out OF that chair he'll probably
bite your leg Oft"
Mrs, Timmins got down on her feet
and eyed tho brute with some trepida'
ton,
Maybe he's got the hydrophobia,"
she suggested by way OF hearty well
"Traps he has" agreed Mr., Timmins,
"but If he has he's got 1t in his pockets.
Como here, doggee, doggee," and Mr..
Iimmins snapped his fingers peraua-
siyely.
"Why doesn't ho come when you call
him?" asked Mrs. Iimmins, deeply
interested in his proceedings,
because you make such noise you
scare him." exclaimed Mr.. Timmins.
Come, doggee, doggeeH
II don't quite like the way his tongue
hangs out, objected Mrs. Timmins. at
doesn't look natural"
"Maybe you don't like the way his
tail hangs out, either. P'raps you think
that artificial, too. With your inform
alton about dogs you only need tiled
floor and broken hinge to be dog
pound. Keep quiet, now, while ! teach
him some tricks. Come here, doggee!
Sit up, sir"
The dog stretched out his forelegs,
opened q mouth like q folding bed, and
growled,
"What makes him do that?" asked
Mrs. Timmons, sitting on the back OF
tho chair with her feet on the seat.
"Why?" shrieked Mr.. Timmons.
"What do you suppose made him do it2
Do you think he works on awire? Have
you got notion that he goes by steam ?
He doesn't. / tell you he's alive, and
he does it because that's the bent Of his
mind. What are you sitting up there
for? Can't you see he doesn't like itP
Now you sit still. Here, doggee, dog
gee, good doggee, sit up and begW and
Mr.. Timmins held up an admonitory
finger.
The dog eyed Mr.. Timmins with any
thing but an assuring glance.
"He's hungry" suggested Mrs. Tim
| ,a;nn an acS Jn iilra thak uhnn fhnX,
fed"
"0t course you know" grumbled Mr..
Timmins. "All you want is perfect
ignorance on the part OF the police to be
a dog fight, Got anything in the house
for him to eat?"
"There's some cold stew and piece
Of custard."
"That's what's tho matter with the dog
He wants custard. You've got it. You
only need committee and a fight over
the proceeds to be dog show. Where's
the oustard? Haven't you got some
cold coffee? Give him lemon to stay
lis stomach" and Mr. Timmons jumped
straight up into the air and landed on
tho dog. The dog made for the open
air with a howl, and Mr.. Timmins
gathered himself up and looked aftel
his prize.
0Never mind, my DEAR said Mrs
Timmins soothingly. Hell come
back"
III he does I'll kill himr' shouted
Mr.. Timmins. "see what you've done
You've made me lose my dog and teal
my trousers. Is there anything more
about dogs you don't know Have you
got any more intelligence to inparl
about dogs? All you want is o bucket
Of brandy round your neck and snow.
storm to be n monk OF st. Bernard.
With which logical conclusion Mr.. Tim
Minis began exploring his outlying dis
tricts for possible bites, while his wife
speculated upon the salvation Of thu
cold stew and the custard by tho sud
den and eminently satisfactory disap
nearancA of tho dor.