Rensselaer Union, Volume 8, Number 15, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 30 December 1875 — No Fun in It. [ARTICLE]

No Fun in It.

.* neighbor, Mr. Pomeroy, is exceedingly fond of practical joking, and the other night, just before his wife retired, he hid himself in the closet in her room. When she came to bed he uttered several deep groans in order to scare her, whereupon she began to scream, and fled srom the room to call for help. Then Pomeroy thought he would come out and undeceive her, but to his dismay he found that the spring catch upon the outside had caught and fastened him in. Then he began to call for assistance, but the noise he made only convinced Mrs. Pomeroy more strongly that there was a burglar in the closet. ■ 1 When Pomeroy’s brother-in-law heard of the matter he loaded his revolver and called his dog, and went into the room. Then he began to fire into the closet, while Pomeroy, in an agony of terror, shrank back * into one corner and endeavored to make himself understood. When five shots had been fired Pomeroy’s brother-in-law concluded to let the dog finish the burglar, so he opened the door gently, and the animal went in as if he were hungry. When they thought the, dog certainly had him they opened the door wide, and Pomeroy’s brother-in-law was just about to knock the burglar on the head with the butt end of the pistol when he saw who the victim was. They hauled off the dog, and as they lifted Pomeroy out his brother-in-law began to say to him: “Why, Aleck, is it you? I thought “ Oh, never mind what you thought." replied Aleck, indignantly. “Never mind what you thought. You’ve put two bullets through my calf, and your dog has bitten three or four mouthfuls out of my other leg, so’S I’ll be lame for life. If I had the strength I’d kill you on the spot; but as soon as I get about again to jail you go for assault and battery, or my name’s not Alexander Pomeroy, now you mind iwe/ ” Then they put him to bed and bandaged him, and he is hot about yet. It is thought by his family that flis sense of humor is a great deal duller than it was. —Max Adder, in, TC Y. Weekly.