Beautiful Joe [19]
a laugh. "It's too slow to do it alone. Now, young gentlemen, attention! To
heel!" He began to march around the garden again, and Jim and I followed closely
at his heels, while little Billy, seeing that he could not get us to play with
him, came lagging behind.
Soon Ned turned around and said, "Hie out!" Old Jim sprang ahead, and ran off in
front as if he was after something. Now I remembered what "hie out" meant. We
were to have a lovely race wherever we liked. Little Billy loved this. We ran
and scampered hither and thither, and Ned watched us, laughing at our antics.
After tea, he called us out in the garden again, and said he had something else
to teach us. He turned up a tub on the wooden platform at the back door, and sat
on it, and then called Jim to him.
He took a small leather strap from his pocket. It had a nice, strong smell. We
all licked it, and each dog wished to have it. "No, Joe and Billy," said Ned,
holding us both by our collars; "you wait a minute. Here, Jim."
Jim watched him very earnestly, and Ned threw the strap half-way across the
garden, and said, "Fetch it."
Jim never moved till he heard the words, "Fetch it." Then he ran swiftly,
brought the strap, and dropped it in Ned's hand. Ned sent him after it two or
three times, then he said to Jim, "Lie down," and turned to me. "Here, Joe; it
is your turn."
He threw the strap under the raspberry bushes, then looked at me and said,
"Fetch it." I knew quite well what he meant, and ran joyfully after it. I soon
found it by the strong smell, but the queerest thing happened when I got it in
my mouth. I began to gnaw it and play with it, and when Ned called out, "fetch
it," I dropped it and ran toward him. I was not obstinate, but I was stupid.
Ned pointed to the place where it was, and spread out his empty hands. That
helped me, and I ran quickly and got it. He made me get it for him several
times. Sometimes I could not find it, and sometimes I dropped it; but he never
stirred. He sat still till I brought it to him.
After a while he tried Billy, but it soon got dark, and we could not see, so he
took Billy and went into the house.
I stayed out with Jim for a while, and he asked me if I knew why Ned had thrown
a strap for us, instead of a bone or something hard.
Of course I did not know, so Jim told me it was on his account. He was a bird
dog, and was never allowed to carry anything hard in
his mouth, because it would make him hard-mouthed, and he would be apt to bite
the birds when he was bringing them back to any person who was shooting with
him. He said that he had been so carefully trained that he could even carry
three eggs at a time in his mouth.
I said to him, "Jim, how is it that you never go out shooting? I have always
heard that you were a dog for that, and yet you never leave home."
He hung his head a little, and said he did not wish to go, and then, for he was
an honest dog, he gave me the true reason.
CHAPTER VIII A RUINED DOG
"I WAS a sporting dog," he said, bitterly, "for the first three years of my
life. I belonged to a man who keeps a livery stable here in Fairport, and he
used to hire me out shooting parties.
"I was a favorite with all the gentlemen. I was crazy with delight when I saw
the guns brought out, and would jump up and bite at them. I loved to chase birds
and rabbits, and even now when the pigeons come near me, I tremble all over and
have to turn away lest I should seize them. I used often to be in the woods from
morning till night. I liked to have a hard search after a bird after it had been
shot, and to be praised for bringing it out without biting or injuring it.
"I never got lost, for I am one of those dogs that can always tell where human
beings are. I did not smell them. I would be too far away for that, but if my
master was standing in some place and I took a long round through the woods, I
knew exactly where he was, and could make a short cut back to him without
returning in my tracks.
"But I
heel!" He began to march around the garden again, and Jim and I followed closely
at his heels, while little Billy, seeing that he could not get us to play with
him, came lagging behind.
Soon Ned turned around and said, "Hie out!" Old Jim sprang ahead, and ran off in
front as if he was after something. Now I remembered what "hie out" meant. We
were to have a lovely race wherever we liked. Little Billy loved this. We ran
and scampered hither and thither, and Ned watched us, laughing at our antics.
After tea, he called us out in the garden again, and said he had something else
to teach us. He turned up a tub on the wooden platform at the back door, and sat
on it, and then called Jim to him.
He took a small leather strap from his pocket. It had a nice, strong smell. We
all licked it, and each dog wished to have it. "No, Joe and Billy," said Ned,
holding us both by our collars; "you wait a minute. Here, Jim."
Jim watched him very earnestly, and Ned threw the strap half-way across the
garden, and said, "Fetch it."
Jim never moved till he heard the words, "Fetch it." Then he ran swiftly,
brought the strap, and dropped it in Ned's hand. Ned sent him after it two or
three times, then he said to Jim, "Lie down," and turned to me. "Here, Joe; it
is your turn."
He threw the strap under the raspberry bushes, then looked at me and said,
"Fetch it." I knew quite well what he meant, and ran joyfully after it. I soon
found it by the strong smell, but the queerest thing happened when I got it in
my mouth. I began to gnaw it and play with it, and when Ned called out, "fetch
it," I dropped it and ran toward him. I was not obstinate, but I was stupid.
Ned pointed to the place where it was, and spread out his empty hands. That
helped me, and I ran quickly and got it. He made me get it for him several
times. Sometimes I could not find it, and sometimes I dropped it; but he never
stirred. He sat still till I brought it to him.
After a while he tried Billy, but it soon got dark, and we could not see, so he
took Billy and went into the house.
I stayed out with Jim for a while, and he asked me if I knew why Ned had thrown
a strap for us, instead of a bone or something hard.
Of course I did not know, so Jim told me it was on his account. He was a bird
dog, and was never allowed to carry anything hard in
his mouth, because it would make him hard-mouthed, and he would be apt to bite
the birds when he was bringing them back to any person who was shooting with
him. He said that he had been so carefully trained that he could even carry
three eggs at a time in his mouth.
I said to him, "Jim, how is it that you never go out shooting? I have always
heard that you were a dog for that, and yet you never leave home."
He hung his head a little, and said he did not wish to go, and then, for he was
an honest dog, he gave me the true reason.
CHAPTER VIII A RUINED DOG
"I WAS a sporting dog," he said, bitterly, "for the first three years of my
life. I belonged to a man who keeps a livery stable here in Fairport, and he
used to hire me out shooting parties.
"I was a favorite with all the gentlemen. I was crazy with delight when I saw
the guns brought out, and would jump up and bite at them. I loved to chase birds
and rabbits, and even now when the pigeons come near me, I tremble all over and
have to turn away lest I should seize them. I used often to be in the woods from
morning till night. I liked to have a hard search after a bird after it had been
shot, and to be praised for bringing it out without biting or injuring it.
"I never got lost, for I am one of those dogs that can always tell where human
beings are. I did not smell them. I would be too far away for that, but if my
master was standing in some place and I took a long round through the woods, I
knew exactly where he was, and could make a short cut back to him without
returning in my tracks.
"But I