There can be no doubt about it. Not merely is Soo-ti getting to be an
old dog, but he has already got there. He _is_ an old dog. Yet the
change in the case of this beloved little Pekinese has been so gradual
that until it was accomplished few of us noticed it. Yesterday, as
it seemed, Soo-ti was a young dog, capable of holding his own for
frolics and spirits with any Pekinese that ever owned the crown of
the road and refused to stir from it though all the hooters of Europe
endeavoured to blast him off it. To-day he is still a challenger of
motor-cars; but he hurls his defiance with less assurance and has been
seen to retire before the advance of a motor-bicycle.
Moreover, there are other signs of what his master calls, let us hope
with accuracy, a _cruda viridisque senectus_. Quite a short time ago
his muzzle, like the rest of him, was as black as ebony. Now he wears
a pair of thick white moustachios, which are comparable only with
those worn by that great chieftain, Monsieur le Maréchal JOFFRE.
In another way too our little dog gives proof that his years are
advancing. He used to welcome ecstatically the moment of the
_promenade_; not that he intended thus to show any deference to the
humans who were inviting him to take a walk, but that he thought it
was a fine manly thing to do, and one that might bring about that
fight of his against a neighbouring and detested deer-hound to which
he looked forward as to one of his unachieved pleasures. He therefore
fell not more than one hundred yards behind his accompanists, and when
this was pointed out to him made a very creditable effort to hurry up
and rejoin. Now, however, when taken for a duty-walk, he still barks
a little at the outset, but thereafter begins at once to lag, and is
found in an armchair when the party returns. It is vain to remind
him that in the old days he was called the little black feather for
the lightness of his gait when puffed along by the gusts of a fierce
nor'-easter. Here is one of the complimentary stanzas that were
lavished upon him by his young mistress:--
"Attend to your duty,
My brave little Soo-ti,
There isn't much sun in the sky:
But we've sported together
In all kinds of weather,
My little black feather and I."
It would be quite useless to lure him out with verse, and plain prose
is equally ineffective when once he has made up his mind that he
doesn't mean to move.
One more sign of old age there is, which I may briefly describe. He is
always much agitated when his mistress packs her boxes to depart to an
institution for higher education of which she is a member. While this
is going forward, Soo-ti will not stir from her room except it be to
couch in the passage outside. Thence he re-transfers himself to her
room, and has been known, when the chief box is full of garments, to
leap into it, to pad round in a circle three times, and to sink down
with a sigh of satisfaction on what was once a very artistic bit of
packing. I do not say that this trick is entirely due to old age.
Nearly all dogs do it. Only there was on the last occasion a special
anxiety, and a more than usual persistence and querulousness which
seemed to say, "Don't go too far away, and come back soon, so that
we may meet again before my eyes grow dim and my ears lose their
keenness."
* * * * *
"In future all unmarried men and women having an income of $1,000
will be taxed by the city. Married men will not be taxed unless
their income is over $1,500,000."--_Canadian Gazette_.
The poor fellows must have some compensation.
* * * * *