HE WAS FOND OF PLAYING PRACTICAL JOKES.

Daily Telegraph (Napier), Issue 3026, 8 March 1881, Page 4

HE WAS FOND OF PLAYING PRACTICAL JOKES.

Mr Philander Bumzell resides at Roger's Park. He is very fond of playing practical jokes. All summer ho has been amiably entertaining his wife, who is a timid woman, and does not keep a servant, with tramp literature, and instructing her what to do in case one of the fraternity should call at the house during his absence. ' See, Lucinda," he would say, ' if one of them tramps comes to the house 'n carries on rough, just you say you'll call your husband, or you'll set the big dog on him, and if he don't get up and go, just you yell out "Philander! Philander !" or say " Sic him, Towser." Don't be scared, Lucinda, don't be scared." It recurred to Mr Bumzell that it would be well to test his wife, and

see if she was as efficient in practice a3 she claimed to bo theoretically, so yesterday he told her ho had to go to Milwaukee, ana wouldn't be home till lute. Then he cunningly disguised himself .13 a vagrant man .vita some false haii\ find hair dye, and a suit of ragged cloth-,, nud about half-past ten o'clock he .ound to his own kitchen door. H:< t\.,m-i lb unlocked, and walking into the kitchen was si'.rm-ised to find that his wife was not there. Just like these women," he growled; "a man might come in here n;id carry ofi; the whole house out of the door, end that stupid woman'd never know it. Won't I have the joke on Lncinda, though !' ho said in rupture as he pocketed the spoons and forks. At this moment the door opened, and Mrs Bumzell entered. She gave a shriek and seemed surprised, and then said faintly, 'What do you want, sir ? " The assumed tramp replied, 'I want some hot dinner, and a suit of clothes, and any money and plate you have in the house, and a kiss.' 'Go away you bad man,' replied the virtuous woman ; ' Go 'way or I'll set the dog on you, and Bosun is awful fierce. He bit a man twice as big as you. on Tuesday,' she added. ' Ha! ha!' laughed the tramp, ' that's too thin. You've got no dog ; you hain't got an ounce of sausage meat on the place. <If you don't keep quiet,' said Mrs Bumzell, ' I'll call mv husband you bad man. Flere, Fred ! Fred!' she shrieked, as the tramp seized a napkinring. ' Yell away,' said he with a mocking laugh ; ' your husband ain't here, and his name ain't Fred either.' 'He isn't, isn't he? It ain't, ain't it!' ejaculated a big red headed man whom Mr Bumzell had never seen before, as be bounded in his shirt sleeves from an inner room. 'You infernal scoundrel! cried he, as with a fearful kick he lifted Mr Bumzell like a meteor out of the back door into the swill barrel. I'll teach you to insidt my wife!' and he hauled Mr Bumzell out by the neck and swabbed the coal heap with him. ' You thought I wasn't in eh ?' and be knocked Mr Bumzell's two eyes into one. ' Hadn't, got no dog, neither ? Here, Nero soox!' and a big bulldog, with a tail like a piece of marcoroni, dropped his lower jaw like the tail board of a coal cart, and applied himself to the slack of BumzeUs pantaloons. 'Hi! I surrender! Don't shoot ! Fire ! Police ! Here's your morning paper! Lucinda! I'm Bumzell!' yelled the unfortunate man, After some difficulty they recovered a large percentage of him from the dog and put it to bed, where it was identified as the property of Philander Bumzell, of Eoger's Park. It subsequently transpired that Mrs Bumzell's brother had just arrived from St. Louis as her husband'left for Milwaukee. —Amerioan Paper.