WIT AND HUMOR.

Mataura Ensign, Volume 6, Issue 304, 9 November 1883, Page 6

WIT AND HUMOR.

I: Spoopendyke in TrouWiß Again. ," My dear," whimpered Mr Spoopendyke ' hobbling info his wife's room and throwing ■ himself into a chair with a ' desolate ex r pression of despair on his visage, ''* My . _ dear, there is something the m^tjter with *my foot, and I can't make out wiiat the trouble ,: is." -.' . "May be it's a stone bruise," suggested. ' Mrs Spoppendyke. ; ' ' ' ' „ " That's all you' know about it," grunted • Mr Spoopendyke, who was not to be put off h with so small a disaster as a stone bruise.. " " I tell you, that I have got some trouble with my foot that threatens my life, and you stand around there like a cork ' in a bottle f - and talk about it as though I hadn't get one leg in the coffin as far as the hip. " Are you sure it isn't a corn 1" __a_arded ; Mrs Spoopendyke, timidly. "Sometimos corns hurt worse thau anything else; but I "'. never heard of people dying of themii" ■■■ .-. "No it i.n't a corn l". howled Mr Spoopen- , • dyke, nursing his foot, and glaring at his wife with a mingled expression , of rage and. • pain. " What d'ye, think . thjs foot is,. any r / - ' way; an agricultural district? When tjid , you ever hear of a corn that . reached, from the heel to the knee?' Which ef your friends •„ ever had a corn' that . hurt clear to tlie. ear f J-* " and Mr Spoopendyke touched his foot "carefully to the floor and eyed his .-wife narrowly ' to see if she noticed the expression of agony' ' on his face. " If it acts' that way ifc must be a bunion P exclaimed Mrs Spoopendyke triumphantly. •" ■ " All you have to do iY to take your boot off' 1 .and put your slippers on. '* * : " That's it," yelled Mr Spoopendyke haul- ;. ing off his boot and throwing it across, the • room. " When a man ig dying of inflammatory rheumatism, it's a bunion I You've v 1 got it I A pain that starts in the toe, rum to the back of the neck and ties in a hard ••- knot ove»* the spine ig a bunion I Show me. the bunion !". he continued, sticking his leg • ■ out straight and pointing his finger at tbe offending foot. " fake this digit in your . - lily white hand and place it tenderly on the. ' dod gasted bnnion before I die and forget what killed ! Pick it out of the surrounding, anatomy I" he yelled, wriggling his foot and' bouncing up and down in his ehair in a delirium of rage. " Pluck the bunion from' its mountain f a s'tness on the hoof of Spoopen-. ' dyke and hold it up to the gaze of the 1 samel" • ,* *" Does it hurt—?" commenced Mrs Spoopendyke, soothingly. " Hurt 1" roared Mr Spoopendyke, springing from his chair and dancing round the . ~. room like a flea. "Of course it don't. 1 It tid-les** HuxtJ li's » p_enio J S»j t joj .y dear, and his voice was low. and tender. "Say,* my dear, instead of going to the country this summer, we'll lay in a stook of . bupiong and wear 'em around for pur health/ and recreation I Hurt l" he shrieked, breaking out in, ' a new spot. " Hart I It feels like a bind of mußicl That's what it is,, a, bunion I -fa " took you to hit it I When I, get time tellt' -=.- you up with a full beard and a bottlef oi!" '■ Whiskey I'm going to start a dispensary with' . you! If you'd oply. improve yonr mind until you reach the' standard intelligence of a moderate donkey you'donly need a stolea. ' corps, and a bad smell tp be a firstclass medical college I" - * .;■ , -^a , u; " Say, dear," observed Mrs Spoopendyke, had been carefully exploring*? her*: iu__.Jjahd's boot; "say, dear,. I thiak 1 h_i,v,e, '"found out what the trouble is.',.', it isa %;a' bunion after all.' . Here's a peg' sticking, out here about a. quarter of an inch. . It you .wi-l . liave that taken out £ don't believe you will .suffer any more." '• ' • -"■'■> '->•' ;) ' 7 " "'■' * ;'■'. Mr Spoopehdyk. jamntted his hat over"ma eyes, shoved hiSfeet into his slippers, grabbed • the obnoxious "beot and started for the door With a withering look at. his wife a* he wen* PUt. . . . -„..; ,J f' l don't care," murmured Mrs Spoopen*** pendyke, as the front door slammed vi*dictively; " I. don't care. If he haa it taken. ; out, he has'to admit that I was 1 right,' and ifVoesn't it will .hurt, hinCtili- -'bev "X^kT - 4 1 i bitKflv which-will be the' worse for hiffli ) he wifc'have to do one or the other." ifc-_. „ • .-;. V" . •: '• > -. '• 'A, n <-.£ .- ; -i. ■ r -. -.-*•; .