But Mary spoilt it all, when I sent David back to her in the morning, by
inquiring too curiously into his person and discovering that I had put
his combinations on him with the buttons to the front. For this I
wrote her the following insulting letter. When Mary does anything
that specially annoys me I send her an insulting letter. I once had a
photograph taken of David being hanged on a tree. I sent her that. You
can't think of all the subtle ways of grieving her I have. No woman with
the spirit of a crow would stand it.
“Dear Madam [I wrote], It has come to my knowledge that when you walk
in the Gardens with the boy David you listen avidly for encomiums of him
and of your fanciful dressing of him by passers-by, storing them in your
heart the while you make vain pretence to regard them not: wherefore
lest you be swollen by these very small things I, who now know David
both by day and by night, am minded to compare him and Porthos the
one with the other, both in this matter and in other matters of graver
account. And touching this matter of outward show, they are both very
lordly, and neither of them likes it to be referred to, but they endure
in different ways. For David says 'Oh, bother!' and even at times hits
out, but Porthos droops his tail and lets them have their say. Yet is he
extolled as beautiful and a darling ten times for the once that David is
extolled.
“The manners of Porthos are therefore prettier than the manners of
David, who when he has sent me to hide from him behind a tree sometimes
comes not in search, and on emerging tamely from my concealment I find
him playing other games entirely forgetful of my existence. Whereas
Porthos always comes in search. Also if David wearies of you he scruples
not to say so, but Porthos, in like circumstances, offers you his paw,
meaning 'Farewell,' and to bearded men he does this all the time (I
think because of a hereditary distaste for goats), so that they conceive
him to be enamoured of them when he is only begging them courteously to
go. Thus while the manners of Porthos are more polite it may be argued
that those of David are more efficacious.
“In gentleness David compares ill with Porthos. For whereas the one
shoves and has been known to kick on slight provocation, the other, who
is noisily hated of all small dogs by reason of his size, remonstrates
not, even when they cling in froth and fury to his chest, but carries
them along tolerantly until they drop off from fatigue. Again,
David will not unbend when in the company of babies, expecting them
unreasonably to rise to his level, but contrariwise Porthos, though
terrible to tramps, suffers all things of babies, even to an exploration
of his mouth in an attempt to discover what his tongue is like at
the other end. The comings and goings of David are unnoticed by
perambulators, which lie in wait for the advent of Porthos. The strong
and wicked fear Porthos but no little creature fears him, not the
hedgehogs he conveys from place to place in his mouth, nor the sparrows
that steal his straw from under him.
“In proof of which gentleness I adduce his adventure with the rabbit.
Having gone for a time to reside in a rabbit country Porthos was elated
to discover at last something small that ran from him, and developing
at once into an ecstatic sportsman he did pound hotly in pursuit, though
always over-shooting the mark by a hundred yards or so and wondering
very much what had become of the rabbit. There was a steep path, from
the top of which the rabbit suddenly came into view, and the practice of
Porthos was to advance up it on tiptoe, turning near the summit to
give me a knowing look and then bounding forward. The rabbit here did
something tricky with a hole in the ground, but Porthos tore onwards in
full faith that the game was being played fairly, and always returned
panting and puzzling but glorious.
“I sometimes shuddered to think of his perplexity should he catch the
rabbit, which however was extremely unlikely; nevertheless he did catch
it, I know not how, but presume it to have been another than the one of
which he was in chase. I found him with it, his brows furrowed in the
deepest thought. The rabbit, terrified but uninjured, cowered beneath
him. Porthos gave me a happy look and again dropped into a weighty frame
of mind. 'What is the next thing one does?' was obviously the puzzle
with him, and the position was scarcely less awkward for the rabbit,
which several times made a move to end this intolerable suspense.
Whereupon Porthos immediately gave it a warning tap with his foot, and
again fell to pondering. The strain on me was very great.
“At last they seemed to hit upon a compromise. Porthos looked over his
shoulder very self-consciously, and the rabbit at first slowly and then
in a flash withdrew. Porthos pretended to make a search for it, but you
cannot think how relieved he looked. He even tried to brazen out his
disgrace before me and waved his tail appealingly. But he could not
look me in the face, and when he saw that this was what I insisted on he
collapsed at my feet and moaned. There were real tears in his eyes, and
I was touched, and swore to him that he had done everything a dog could
do, and though he knew I was lying he became happy again. For so long as
I am pleased with him, ma'am, nothing else greatly matters to Porthos. I
told this story to David, having first extracted a promise from him that
he would not think the less of Porthos, and now I must demand the same
promise of you. Also, an admission that in innocence of heart, for which
David has been properly commended, he can nevertheless teach Porthos
nothing, but on the contrary may learn much from him.
“And now to come to those qualities in which David excels over
Porthos--the first is that he is no snob but esteems the girl Irene
(pretentiously called his nurse) more than any fine lady, and envies
every ragged boy who can hit to leg. Whereas Porthos would have every
class keep its place, and though fond of going down into the kitchen,
always barks at the top of the stairs for a servile invitation before
he graciously descends. Most of the servants in our street have had
the loan of him to be photographed with, and I have but now seen him
stalking off for that purpose with a proud little housemaid who is
looking up to him as if he were a warrior for whom she had paid a
shilling.
“Again, when David and Porthos are in their bath, praise is due to the
one and must be withheld from the other. For David, as I have noticed,
loves to splash in his bath and to slip back into it from the hands that
would transfer him to a towel. But Porthos stands in his bath drooping
abjectly like a shamed figure cut out of some limp material.
“Furthermore, the inventiveness of David is beyond that of Porthos, who
cannot play by himself, and knows not even how to take a solitary
walk, while David invents playfully all day long. Lastly, when David is
discovered of some offence and expresses sorrow therefor, he does
that thing no more for a time, but looks about him for other offences,
whereas Porthos incontinently repeats his offence, in other words, he
again buries his bone in the backyard, and marvels greatly that I know
it, although his nose be crusted with earth.
“Touching these matters, therefore, let it be granted that David excels
Porthos; and in divers similar qualities the one is no more than a match
for the other, as in the quality of curiosity; for, if a parcel comes
into my chambers Porthos is miserable until it is opened, and I have
noticed the same thing of David.
“Also there is the taking of medicine. For at production of the vial all
gaiety suddenly departs from Porthos and he looks the other way, but if
I say I have forgotten to have the vial refilled he skips joyfully,
yet thinks he still has a right to a chocolate, and when I remarked
disparagingly on this to David he looked so shy that there was revealed
to me a picture of a certain lady treating him for youthful maladies.
“A thing to be considered of in both is their receiving of punishments,
and I am now reminded that the girl Irene (whom I take in this matter
to be your mouthpiece) complains that I am not sufficiently severe with
David, and do leave the chiding of him for offences against myself to
her in the hope that he will love her less and me more thereby. Which we
have hotly argued in the Gardens to the detriment of our dignity. And I
here say that if I am slow to be severe to David, the reason thereof is
that I dare not be severe to Porthos, and I have ever sought to treat
the one the same with the other.
“Now I refrain from raising hand or voice to Porthos because his great
heart is nigh to breaking if he so much as suspects that all is not well
between him and me, and having struck him once some years ago never can
I forget the shudder which passed through him when he saw it was I
who had struck, and I shall strike him, ma'am, no more. But when he is
detected in any unseemly act now, it is my stern practice to cane my
writing table in his presence, and even this punishment is almost more
than he can bear. Wherefore if such chastisement inflicted on David
encourages him but to enter upon fresh trespasses (as the girl Irene
avers), the reason must be that his heart is not like unto that of the
noble Porthos.
“And if you retort that David is naturally a depraved little boy, and
so demands harsher measure, I have still my answer, to wit, what is the
manner of severity meted out to him at home? And lest you should shuffle
in your reply I shall mention a notable passage that has come to my
ears.
“As thus, that David having heard a horrid word in the street, uttered
it with unction in the home. That the mother threatened corporal
punishment, whereat the father tremblingly intervened. That David
continuing to rejoice exceedingly in his word, the father spoke darkly
of a cane, but the mother rushed between the combatants. That the
problematical chastisement became to David an object of romantic
interest. That this darkened the happy home. That casting from his
path a weeping mother, the goaded father at last dashed from the house
yelling that he was away to buy a cane. That he merely walked the
streets white to the lips because of the terror David must now be
feeling. And that when he returned, it was David radiant with hope who
opened the door and then burst into tears because there was no cane.
Truly, ma'am, you are a fitting person to tax me with want of severity.
Rather should you be giving thanks that it is not you I am comparing
with Porthos.
“But to make an end of this comparison, I mention that Porthos is ever
wishful to express gratitude for my kindness to him, so that looking
up from my book I see his mournful eyes fixed upon me with a passionate
attachment, and then I know that the well-nigh unbearable sadness which
comes into the face of dogs is because they cannot say Thank you to
their masters. Whereas David takes my kindness as his right. But for
this, while I should chide him I cannot do so, for of all the ways David
has of making me to love him the most poignant is that he expects it of
me as a matter of course. David is all for fun, but none may plumb the
depths of Porthos. Nevertheless I am most nearly doing so when I lie
down beside him on the floor and he puts an arm about my neck. On my
soul, ma'am, a protecting arm. At such times it is as if each of us knew
what was the want of the other.
“Thus weighing Porthos with David it were hard to tell which is the
worthier. Wherefore do you keep your boy while I keep my dog, and so we
shall both be pleased.”