quarter of an hour's walk brought us to a gentle hill, which, similar to
the one whereon the mansion itself was situated, sloped downwards to the
water. One or two trees, like giant sentinels, stood near the top, and
behind them waved the branches of scores more, while beyond for many a
mile spread the dark mass of the thick forest of which I have more than
once made mention. Nearly at the foot of the hill, beneath a spreading
oak, was a cottage, a very picture of peace and neatness; and as we
paused, Sir John pointed out the peculiarities of the position and
explained my duties. It appeared that this part of his grounds was noted
for a delicate kind of bird, much esteemed by himself and his family, and
which was induced to flock there by regular feeding and the quiet of the
situation. This fact was, however, perfectly well known to others besides
Sir John; and as these others were just as fond of the birds as himself,
they were accustomed to pay nightly visits to the forbidden ground, and
carry off many of the plumpest fowl. The wood was known to shelter many a
wandering fox, who, although dwelling so near the city, could not be
prevailed on to abandon their roguish habits and live in a civilised
manner. These birds were particularly to their taste, and it required the
greatest agility to keep off the cunning invaders, for, though they had
no great courage, and would not attempt to resist a bold dog, they
frequently succeeded in eluding all vigilance and getting off with their
booty. Often, too, a stray cur, sometimes two or three together, from the
lowest classes of the population, would, when moved by hunger, make a
descent on the preserves, and battles of a fierce character not seldom
occurred, for, unlike the foxes, they were never unwilling to fight, but
showed the utmost ferocity when attacked, and were often the aggressors.
But those were not all. The grounds were exactly opposite that part of
the city of Caneville known as the "Mews," and occupied by the cat
population, who have a general affection for most birds, and held these
preserved ones in particular esteem. Fortunately, the water that
interposed was a formidable barrier for the feline visitors, as few
pussies like to wet their feet; but, by some means or other, they
frequently found their way across, and by their dexterity, swiftness, and
the quiet of their movements, committed terrible ravages among the birds.
When Sir John had told me all this, he led the way down the hill to the
small house under the tree. It had two rooms, with a kennel at the back.
The front room was the parlour, and I thought few places could have been
so neat and pretty. The back was the sleeping-room, and the windows of
both looked out upon the soft grass and trees, and showed a fine view of
the river.
"This," said Sir John, "is your house, and I hope you will be happy in it
yourself, and be of service to me. You will not be alone, for
there"--pointing to the kennel at the back--"sleeps an old servant of the
family, who will assist you in your duties."
He then called out "Nip," when a rumbling noise was heard from the
kennel, and directly after a lame hound came hopping round to the door.
The sight of this old fellow was not pleasant at first, for his hair was
a grizzly brown and his head partly bald; his eyes were sunk, and,
indeed, almost hidden beneath his bushy brows, and his cheeks hung down
below his mouth and shook with every step he took. I soon found out that
he was as singular in his manners as in his looks, and had such a dislike
to talking that it was a rare thing for him to say more than two or three
words at one time. Sir John told him who I was, and desired him to obey
my orders; commanded us both to be good friends and not quarrel, as
strange dogs were rather apt to do; and after some more advice left us to
ourselves, I in a perfect dream of wonderment, and "Nip" sitting winking
at me in a way that I thought more funny than agreeable.
After we had sat looking at one another for some time, I said, just to
break the silence, which was becoming tiresome--
"A pretty place this!"
Nip winked.
"Have you been here long?" I asked.
"Think so," said Nip.
"All alone?" I inquired.
"Almost," Nip replied.
"Much work to do, eh?" I asked.
The only answer Nip gave to this was by winking first one eye and then
the other, and making his cheeks rise and fall in a way so droll that I
could not help laughing, at which Nip seemed to take offence, for without
waiting for any farther questions he hopped out of the room, and I saw
him, soon after, crawling softly up the hill, as if on the look out for
some of the thieves Sir John had spoken of.
I, too, went off upon the watch. I took my way along the bank, I glided
among the bushes, ran after a young fox whose sharp nose I spied pointed
up a tree, but without catching him, and finally returned to my new home
by the opposite direction. Nip came in shortly after, and we sat down to
our dinner.
Although this portion of my life was, perhaps, the happiest I have ever
known, it has few events worth relating. The stormy scenes which are so
painful to the dog who suffers them, are those which are most interesting
to the hearer; while the quiet days, that glide peacefully away, are so
like each other, that an account of one of them is a description of many.
A few hours can be so full of action, as to require volumes to describe
them properly, and the history of whole years can be written on a single
page.
I tried, as I became fixed in my new position, to do what I had resolved
when I entered it; namely, my duty. I think I succeeded; I certainly
obtained my master's praise, and sometimes my own; for I had a habit of
talking to myself, as Nip so rarely opened his mouth, and would praise or
blame myself just as I thought I deserved it. I am afraid I was not
always just, but too often said, "Well done, Job; that's right, Job;"
when I ought to have called out, "You're wrong, Job; you ought to feel,
Job, that you're wrong;" but it is not so easy a thing to be just, even
to ourselves.
One good lesson I learned in that little cottage, which has been of use
to me all my life through; and that was, to be very careful about judging
dogs by their looks. There was old Nip: when I first saw him, I thought I
had never beheld such an ugly fellow in my life, and could not imagine
how anything good was to be expected from so cross a looking, ragged old
hound. And yet nothing could be more beautiful, more loveable than dear
old Nip, when you came to know him well. All the misfortunes he had
suffered, all the knocks he had received in passing through the world,
seemed to have made his heart more tender; and he was so entirely
good-natured, that in all the time we were together, I never heard him
say an unkind thing of living or dead animal. I believe his very silence
was caused by the goodness of his disposition; for as he could not help
seeing many things he did not like, but could not alter, he preferred
holding his tongue to saying what could not be agreeable. Dear, dear Nip!
if ever it should be resolved to erect a statue of goodness in the public
place of Caneville, they ought to take you for a model; you would not be
so pleasant to look on as many finer dogs, but when once known, your
image would be loved, dear Nip, as I learned to love the rugged original.
It can be of no interest to you to hear the many fights we had in
protecting the property of our master during the first few moons after my
arrival. Almost every night we were put in danger of lives, for the curs
came in such large numbers that there was a chance of our being pulled to
pieces in the struggle. Yet we kept steady watch; and after a time,
finding, I suppose, that we were never sleeping at our post, and that our
courage rose with every fresh attack, the thieves gradually gave up open
war, and only sought to entrap the birds by artifice; and, like the foxes
and cats, came sneaking into the grounds, and trusted to the swiftness of
their legs rather than the sharpness of their teeth when Nip or I caught
sight of them.
And thus a long, long time passed away. I had, meanwhile, grown to my
full size, and was very strong and active: not so stout as I have got in
these later years, when my toes sometimes ache with the weight which
rests on them, but robust and agile, and as comely, I believe, as most
dogs of my age and descent.
The uniformity of my life, which I have spoken of as making me so happy,
was interrupted only by incidents that did not certainly cause me
displeasure. I renewed my acquaintance with "Fida," no longer _little_
Fida, for she had grown to be a beautiful lady-dog. Our second meeting
was by chance, but we talked like old friends, so much had our first done
to remove all strangeness. I don't think the next time we saw each other
was quite by accident. If I remember rightly, it was not; and we often
met afterwards. We agreed that we should do all we could to assist one
another, though what _I_ could do for so rich and clever a lady-dog I
could not imagine, although I made the promise very willingly. On her
part, she did for me what I can never sufficiently repay. She taught me
to read, lending me books containing strange stories of far-off
countries, and beautiful poetry, written by some deep dogs of the city;
she taught me to write; and in order to exercise me, made me compose
letters to herself, which Nip carried to her, bringing me back such
answers as would astonish you; for when you thought you had got to the
end, they began all over again in another direction. Besides these, she
taught me to speak and act properly, in the way that well-behaved dogs
ought to do; for I had been used to the company of such low and poor
animals, that it was not surprising if I should make sad blunders in
speech and manners. I need not say that she taught me to love herself,
for that you will guess I had done from the first day I saw her, when I
was wet from my jump in the river, and she spoke to me such flattering
words. No; she could not teach me more love for herself than I already
knew. That lesson had been learnt _by heart_, and at a single sitting.
Our peaceful days were drawing to a close. Sir John died. Lady Bull lived
on for a short time longer. Many said, when she followed, that she ate
herself to death; but I mention the rumour in order to deny it, for I am
sure it was grief that killed her. It is a pity some dogs will repeat
everything they hear, without considering the mischief such tittle-tattle
may occasion--although it has been asserted by many that in this case the
false intelligence came from the Cats, who had no great affection for
poor Lady Bull. Whatever the cause, she died, and with her the employment
of poor Nip and myself. The young Bulls who came into possession of the
estate, sold the preserves to a stranger; and as the new proprietor
intended killing off the birds, and did not require keepers, there being
no longer anything for them to do, we were turned upon the world.
The news came upon us so suddenly, that we were quite unprepared for it;
and we were, besides, so far from being rich, that it was a rather
serious matter to find out how we should live until we could get some
other occupation. I was not troubled for myself; for, though I had been
used to good feeding lately, I did not forget the time when I was often
forced to go the whole day with scarce a bit to eat; but the thought of
how poor old Nip would manage gave me some pain.
Having bid adieu to the peaceful cottage, where we had spent such happy
times, we left the green fields and pleasant trees and proceeded to the
town, where, after some difficulty, we found a humble little house which
suited our change of fortune. Here we began seriously to muse over what
we should do. I proposed making a ferry-boat of my back, and, stationing
myself at the waterside near the "Mews," swim across the river with such
cats as required to go over and did not like to walk as far as where the
boat was accustomed to be. By these means I calculated on making enough
money to keep us both comfortably. Nip thought not. He said that the cats
would not trust me--few cats ever did trust the dogs--and then, though he
did not dislike cats, not at all, for he knew a great many very sensible
cats, and very good ones too, he did not like the idea of seeing his
friend walked over by cats or dogs, or any other animal, stranger or
domestic. Besides, there were other objections. Strong as I was, I could
not expect, if I made a boat of myself, that I could go on and on without
wanting repair any more than a real boat; but where was the carpenter to
put _me_ to rights, or take out _my_ rotten timbers and put in fresh
ones. No; that would not do; we must think of something else.
It must not be imagined that Nip made all this long speech in one breath,
or in a dozen breaths. It took him a whole morning to explain himself
even as clearly as I have tried to do; and perhaps I may still have
written what he did not quite intend, for his words came out with a jump,
one or two at a time, and often so suddenly that it would have startled a
dog who was not used to his manner.
Nip himself made the next proposal, and though I did not exactly like it,
there seemed so little choice, that I at once agreed to do my part in the
scheme. Nip was the son of a butcher, and though he had followed the
trade but a short time himself, he was a very good judge of meat. He,
therefore, explained that if I would undertake to become the seller, he
would purchase and prepare the meat, and he thought he could make it look
nice enough to induce the dogs to come and buy.
Our stock of money being very small, a house-shop was out of the
question, so there was no chance of getting customers from the better
class,--a thing which I regretted, as I had little taste for the society
of the vulgar; but, again, as it could not be helped, the only thing to
do was to make the best of it. A wheelbarrow was therefore bought by Nip,
with what else was necessary to make me a complete "walking butcher," and
having got in a stock of meat the day before, Nip cut, and contrived, and
shaped, and skewered, in so quiet and business-like a way as proved he
knew perfectly well what he was about. With early morning, after Nip had
arranged my dress with the same care as he had bestowed upon the barrow
and its contents, I wheeled my shop into the street, and amid a great
many winks of satisfaction from my dear old friend, I went trudging
along, bringing many a doggess to the windows of the little houses by my
loud cry of "Me-eet! Fresh me-eet!"
As I was strange in my new business, and did not feel quite at my ease, I
fancied every dog I met, and every eye that peeped from door and
casement, stared at me in a particular manner, as if they knew I was
playing my part for the first time, and were watching to see how I did
it. The looks that were cast at my meat, were all, I thought, intended
for me, and when a little puppy leered suspiciously at the barrow as he
was crossing the road, no doubt to see that it did not run over him, I
could only imagine that he was thinking of the strange figure I made,
and my awkward attempt at getting a living. Feelings like these no doubt
alarm every new beginner; but time and habit, if they do not reconcile us
to our lot, will make it at least easier to perform, and thus, after some
two hours' journeying through the narrow lanes of Caneville, I did what
my business required of me with more assurance than when I first set out.
One thing, however, was very distasteful to me, and I could so little
bear to see it, that I even spoke of it aloud, and ran the risk of
offending some of my customers. I mean the _way_ in which several of the
dogs devoured the meat after they had bought it. You will think that when
they had purchased their food and paid for it, they had a right to eat it
as they pleased: I confess it; nothing can be more true; but still, my
ideas had changed so of late, that it annoyed me very much to see many of
these curs, living as they did in the most civilized city in this part of
the world, gnawing their meat as they held it on the ground with their
paws, and growling if any one came near as though there was no such thing
as a police in Caneville. I forgot when I was scolding these poor dogs,
that perhaps they had never been taught better, and deserved pity rather
than blame. I forgot too that I had myself behaved as they did before I
had been blessed with happier fortune, and that, even then, if I had
looked into my own conduct, I should have found many things more worthy
of censure than these poor curs' mode of devouring their food.
The lane I was passing along was cut across by a broad and open street,
the favourite promenade of the fashionables of Caneville. There might be
seen about mid-day, when the sun was shining, troops of well-dressed dogs
and a few superior cats, some attended by servants, others walking alone,
and many in groups of two or three, the male dogs smoking cigars, the
ladies busily talking, while they looked at and admired one another's
pretty dresses and bonnets.
By the time I had got thus far, I had become tolerably used to my new
work, and could imagine that when the passers-by cast their eyes on my
barrow, their glances had more to do with the meat than with myself. But
I did not like the idea of crossing the road where such grand dogs were
showing off their finery. After a little inward conversation with myself,
which finished with my muttering between my teeth, "Job, brother Job, I
am ashamed of you! where is your courage, brother Job? Go on; go on;" I
went on without further delay.
I had got half-way across, and was already beginning to praise myself for
the ease with which I turned my barrow in and out of the crowd without
running over the toes of any of the puppies, who were far too much
engaged to look after them themselves when a dirty little cur stopped me
to buy a penn'orth of meat. I set down my load just in time to avoid
upsetting a very fat and splendidly dressed doggess, who must, if I had
run the wheel into her back, and it was very near it, have gone head
foremost into the barrow. This little incident made me very hot, and I
did not get cooler when my customer squatted down in the midst of the
well-dressed crowd, and began tearing his meat in the way I have before
described as being so unpleasant. At the same moment another dog by his
side, with a very ragged coat, and queer little face, held up his paw to
ask for "a little bit," as he was very hungry, "only a little bit." I
should, probably, have given him a morsel, as I remembered the time when
I wanted it as much as he seemed to do, but for an unexpected meeting.
Turning my head at a rustling just behind me, I saw a well-dressed dog,
with a hat of the last fashion placed so nicely on his head that it
seemed to be resting on the bridge of his nose, the smoke from a cigar
issuing gracefully from his mouth, and his head kept in an upright
posture by a very stiff collar which ran round the back of his neck, and
entirely prevented his turning round his head without a great deal of
care and deliberation, while a tuft of hair curled nicely from beneath
his chin, and gave a fine finish to the whole dog. But though I have
spoken of this Caneville fashionable, it was not he who caused the
rustling noise, or who most attracted my attention. Tripping beside
him, with her soft paw beneath his, was a lady-dog, whose very dress told
her name, at least in my eyes, before I saw her face. I felt sure that it
was Fida, and I wished myself anywhere rather than in front of that
barrow with an ill-bred cur at my feet gnawing the penn'orth of meat he
had just bought of me. Before I had time to catch up my load and depart,
a touch on my shoulder, so gentle that it would not have hurt a fly, and
yet which made me tremble more than if it had been the grip of a giant
animal, forced me again to turn. It _was_ Fida; as beautiful and as fresh
as ever, who gave me a sweet smile of recognition and encouragement as
she passed with her companion, and left me standing there as stupid and
uncomfortable as if I had been caught doing something wrong.
[Illustration: A CANINE BUTCHER]
You will say that it was very ridiculous in me to feel so ashamed and
disconcerted at being seen by her or any other dog or doggess in my
common dress, and following an honest occupation. I do not deny it. And
in telling you these things I have no wish to spare myself, I have no
excuse to offer, but only to relate events and describe feelings
precisely as they were.
THE INUNDATION.
That evening it seemed as if Nip and I had changed characters. It was he
who did all the talking, while I sat in a corner, full of thought, and
answered yes or no to everything he said, and sometimes in the wrong
place, I am sure; for once or twice he looked at me very attentively, and
winked in a way which proved that he was puzzled by my manner.
The reason of his talkativeness was the success I had attained in my
first morning's walk, for I had sold nearly all the meat, and brought
home a pocket full of small money. The cause of my silence was the
unexpected meeting with Fida, and the annoyance I felt at having been
seen by her in such a position. This was the first time I had set eyes on
her for several days. When we left our pretty country lodging, I wrote
her a letter, which Nip carried as usual to her house, but he was told
that she had gone on a visit to some friends at a distance, but that the
letter should be given to her on her return. I had not, therefore, been
able to inform her of what we had been compelled to do, as I would have
wished; but thus, without preparation, quite unexpectedly, I had been met
by her in the public street, acting the poor dogs' butcher, with the
implements of my business before me, and a dirty cur growling and gnawing
his dinner at my feet. What made the matter more serious, for serious it
seemed to me, though I can but smile _now_ to think why such a thing
should have made me uncomfortable, was, that the whole scene had taken
place in so open a part, with so many grand and gay dogs all round, to be
witnesses of my confusion. I did not reflect that, of all the puppies who
were strutting past, there was probably not one who could have remembered
so common an event as the passing of a butcher's barrow; and if they
looked at me at all, it was, doubtless, for no other reason than to avoid
running against my greasy coat and spoiling their fine clothes. These
confessions will prove to you that I was very far from being a wise dog
or even a sensible one; all the books I had read had, as yet, served no
other purpose than that of feeding my vanity and making me believe I was
a very superior animal; and you may learn from this incident, that those
who wish to make a proper figure in the world, and play the part they are
called on to perform in a decent manner, must study their lesson in the
world itself, by mingling with their fellows, for books alone can no more
teach such knowledge than it can teach a dog to swim without his going
into the water.
Nip and I had our dinner; and when it was over, my old friend went out to
procure a supply of meat for the next day's business. I sat at the window
with my nose resting on the ledge, at times watching some heavy clouds
which were rolling up the sky, as if to attend a great meeting overhead;
at another moment, looking at the curs in the streets, who were playing
all sorts of games, which generally turned into a fight, and often
staring at the house opposite without seeing a single stone in the wall,
but in their place, Fidas, and puppies with stiff collars, and barrows
with piles of meat, ready cut and skewered. I was awoke from this
day-dream by the voice of an old, but very clean doggess, inquiring if my
name was Mr. Job? I answered that I was so called, when she drew from her
pocket and gave me a pink-coloured note, which smelt like a nice garden,
and even brought one to my view as plainly as if it had suddenly danced
before me, and saying there was no reply, returned by the way she had
come.
I did not require to be told by whom it was sent. I knew the writing too
well. The neat folding, the small but clean address assured me that a
lady's paw had done it all, and every word of the direction--
+---------------------------------------+
| MASTER JOB, |
| |
| In the Little Dogs' Street, |
| |
| F. LOWER CANEVILLE. |
+---------------------------------------+
spoke to me of Fida, and did not even need the F. in the corner to
convince me of the fact. With her permission, I here give you the
contents:--
"MY DEAR JOB,
"I am sorry I was away from home when your letter arrived, and
would have told you I was going, but that I thought the news
might cause you pain, as I, by some mischance, had got my
tail jammed in a door, and was forced to leave home in order
to visit a famous doctor, who lives at some distance. He
fortunately cured me after a few days' illness, and the tail
wags now as freely as ever, although it was very annoying, as
well as ridiculous, to see me walking up and down the room
with that wounded member so wrapped up that it was as thick as
my whole body, and was quite a load to drag about.
"But, dear Job, I do not write this to talk about myself,
though I am forced to give you this explanation of my silence:
what I wish is to say something about _you_. And to begin, as
you have always been a good, kind dog, and listened to me
patiently when I have praised, you must now be just as kind
and good, and even more patient, because I am going to scold.