Mr. And Mrs. Spoopendyke Go In And Out Of The Poultry Business

"My dear," said Mr. Spoopendyke, as he appeared bef ore his wife with a broad grin on his face, "say iny dear, I've bought some chickens so we can have fresh laid eggs. Look!" and he held out a couple of pair of fowls tied by the legs for Mrs. Spoopendyke's contemplation. "Well, upon my word!" exclaimed Mrs. Spoopendyke. "Of all things! chickens! Ever since we' ve been married I've wanted chickens!" and she approached the birds cautiously and with a look of misgiving that belied her words. "Where can we keep them ?" "In a coop, Mrs. Spoopendyke, in a coop," retorted her husband, laying the chickens on the bed while he took off his coat and vest. "We inight keep 'em up the chimney or in the clock, but we probably won't. We'll just keep 'em in a hen coop, and I've got the laths and nails down stairs to build it with. Come down in the yard," and Mr. Spoopendyke grabbed his new acquisition by the legs and started off f ollowed by his wife. "Do you know how to build a coop ?" asked Mrs. Spoopendyke, as she watched her husband dig a post hole in the corner she had reserved for a geranium bed. "If I don't, you probably do," snorted Mr. Spoopendyke, kicking away at the spade until he loosened his leg. "Now I put this post here and that one there. ïhen the two fences make the rest, and I only lath up these two - dod gast the post !" he concluded as it toppled over on his ear. "Can't you hold it up? What're sitting around there like a cork in a jtig for? Hold it up, willye?" Mrs. Spoopendyke grasped the post firmly with both hands and held it at an angle of 30 degrees. "Now hold it perfectly still while I dig the other hole," and Mr. Spoopendyke hacked away at the ground again and set his second post. "I see what you mean," giggled Mrs. Spoopendyke. "You slat it up from one post to the other, and then put the chickens in. My! how nice that'll be!" Mr. Spoopendyke glared at her a moment and then began putting up his laths, standing between the posts and the fence-comer and whistling as he worked. "Now," said he, as he fmished, "what do you think of thatl" Mrs. Spoopendyke examined the job ciïtically. "It's a perfect palace!" she exclaimed. "But say, dear, how are you going to get out?" "Yah-h-h!" roared Mr. Spoopendyke, bounding into the air. "AVhy didn't ye teil me? What'd ye want to let me build myself in like a dod gasted mummy for? Ain't ye got any sense at all anywheres? Why ilidn't ye watch what I was doing?"' and Mr. Spoopendyke grinned horribly through the slats. "I supposed you were going to build a hole in it," faltered Mrs. Spoopendyke "Sol am!"yelled Mr. Spoopendyke, jamming his leg through the structure. 'Want any more holes?" and he kicked the side half way across the yard. "Four chickens, four holes!" he roared and the laths flew in all directions. "Want any more holes ?" and he smashed the roof out with the spade. "Holes constantly on hand! lf you don't see the hole you want, ask for it!" and he blew out the end with terriüc energy. "New goods coming in all the time; Second hand holes a specialty! " and he banged out the other end. "Paities wanting holes to send in the country will consult their interests by applying here before going elsewhere!" and he ripped down the rest of the coop with predigious clatter. "Want any more holes in this particular coop ?" he roared, wrenching out the posts and slammingthem across the yard. "Does this hen coop begin to convey the impression of having a hole in it ?" he ed, stalking up to hi3 wife. "Yes, dear," replied Mrs. Spoopendyke, soothingly. "I'm so glad you got out, but where can we keep the cliickens now?" "Keep 'em!" ripped Mr. Spoopendyke, with a horrible grimace, and grasping the wretched iowls by the legs, "who's going to keep 'em ?" and he cut the lashings. ,'S'pose I'm going to run my business just to gratify a measly whim of a dod gauted woman?" andhe jerked the chickens into the air. "Never mird," said Mrs. Spoopendyke, as the last biid slid over the fence and disappeared, "chickens are a nuisance, anyway. We really didn't need any." '■Why didn't you say so before I bought 'em ?" blurted Mr. Spoopendyke, as he dashed into the house. "I didn't know it,"sighed Mrs. Spoopendyke, looking around upon tke wreek, "and, besides, I don't believe we would have had many eggs.beeause those chickens were all roosters." And Mrs. Spoopendyke followed her husband, who stormed around the rest of the evening because he couldn't find the Eagle of January 12, 1879, which he had cautioned her to save because there was sometliing in it he wanted to read, and which he had used the next day, in conjunction with the back breadth of her new flannel petticoat, to clean lus shot gun with. Wb walk here, as it were, in the crypts of life; at times from the great cathedral above us we can hear the organ and the chanting choir, we see the light stream through the open door, when some friend goes out before us, and shall we fear to mount the narrow staircaae of the grave that leads us out of thla uncertain twilight into etenaal life. - Longféllow. A Providence factory turns out tobáceo pipes at the rate of 2,000,000 a year. The clay used in their manufacture comes from Martha's Vineyard, Governor'8 Island and Lake Michigan. Robert Ingersoll attacks christians just as he champions star-route robbers - for a