Beautiful Joe [20]
must tell you about my trouble. One Saturday afternoon a party of young
men came to get me. They had a dog with them, a cocker spaniel called Bob, but
they wanted another. For some reason or other, my master was very unwilling to
have me go. However, he at last consented, and they put me in the back of the
wagon with Bob and the lunch baskets, and we drove off into the country. This
Bob was a happy, merry-looking dog, and as we went along, he told me of the fine
time we should have next day. The young men would shoot a little, then they
would get out their baskets and have something to eat and drink, and would play
cards and go to sleep under the trees, and we would be able to help ourselves to
legs and wings of chickens, and anything we liked from the baskets.
"I did not like this at all. I was used to working hard through the week, and I
liked to spend my Sundays quietly at home. However, I said nothing.
"That night we slept at a country hotel, and drove the next morning to the banks
of a small lake where the young men were told there would be plenty of wild
ducks. They were in no hurry to begin their sport. They sat down in the sun on
some flat rocks at the water's edge, and said they would have something to drink
before setting to work. They got out some of the bottles from the wagon, and
began to take long drinks from them. Then they got quarrelsome and mischievous
and seemed to forget all about their shooting. One of them proposed to have some
fun with the dogs. They tied us both to a tree, and throwing a stick in the
water, told us to get it. Of course we struggled and tried to get free, and
chafed our necks with the rope.
"After a time one of them began to swear at me, and say that he believed I was
gun-shy. He staggered to the wagon and got out his fowling piece, and said he
was going to try me.
"He loaded it, went to a little distance, and was going to fire, when the young
man who owned Bob said he wasn't going to have his dog's legs shot off, and
coming up he unfastened him and took him away. You can imagine my feelings, as I
stood there tied to the tree, with that stranger pointing his gun directly at
me. He fired close to me, a number of times over my head and under my body. The
earth was cut up all around me. I was terribly frightened, and howled and begged
to be freed.
"The other young men, who were sitting laughing at me, thought it such good fun
that they got their guns, too. I never wish to spend such a terrible hour again.
I was sure they would kill me. I dare say they would have done so, for they were
all quite drunk by this time, if something had not happened.
"Poor Bob, who was almost as frightened as I was, and who lay shivering under
the wagon, was killed by a shot by his own master, whose hand was the most
unsteady of all. He gave one loud howl, kicked convulsively, then turned over on
his side and lay quite still. It sobered them all. They ran up to him, but he
was quite dead. They sat for a while quite silent, then they threw the rest of
the bottles into the lake, dug a shallow grave for Bob, and putting me in the
wagon drove slowly back to town. They were not bad young men. I don't think they
meant to hurt me, or to kill Bob. It was the nasty stuff in the bottles that
took away their reason.
"I was never the same dog again. I was quite deaf in my right ear, and though I
strove against it, I was so terribly afraid of even the sight of a gun that I
would run and hide myself whenever one was shown to me. My master was very angry
with those young men, and it seemed as if he could not bear the sight of me. One
day he took me very kindly and brought me here, and asked Mr. Morris if he did
not want a good-natured dog to play with the children.
"I have a happy home here and I love the Morris boys; but I often wish that I
could keep from putting my tail between my legs and running home every time I
hear the sound of a gun."
"Never mind that, Jim," I said. "You should not fret over a thing
men came to get me. They had a dog with them, a cocker spaniel called Bob, but
they wanted another. For some reason or other, my master was very unwilling to
have me go. However, he at last consented, and they put me in the back of the
wagon with Bob and the lunch baskets, and we drove off into the country. This
Bob was a happy, merry-looking dog, and as we went along, he told me of the fine
time we should have next day. The young men would shoot a little, then they
would get out their baskets and have something to eat and drink, and would play
cards and go to sleep under the trees, and we would be able to help ourselves to
legs and wings of chickens, and anything we liked from the baskets.
"I did not like this at all. I was used to working hard through the week, and I
liked to spend my Sundays quietly at home. However, I said nothing.
"That night we slept at a country hotel, and drove the next morning to the banks
of a small lake where the young men were told there would be plenty of wild
ducks. They were in no hurry to begin their sport. They sat down in the sun on
some flat rocks at the water's edge, and said they would have something to drink
before setting to work. They got out some of the bottles from the wagon, and
began to take long drinks from them. Then they got quarrelsome and mischievous
and seemed to forget all about their shooting. One of them proposed to have some
fun with the dogs. They tied us both to a tree, and throwing a stick in the
water, told us to get it. Of course we struggled and tried to get free, and
chafed our necks with the rope.
"After a time one of them began to swear at me, and say that he believed I was
gun-shy. He staggered to the wagon and got out his fowling piece, and said he
was going to try me.
"He loaded it, went to a little distance, and was going to fire, when the young
man who owned Bob said he wasn't going to have his dog's legs shot off, and
coming up he unfastened him and took him away. You can imagine my feelings, as I
stood there tied to the tree, with that stranger pointing his gun directly at
me. He fired close to me, a number of times over my head and under my body. The
earth was cut up all around me. I was terribly frightened, and howled and begged
to be freed.
"The other young men, who were sitting laughing at me, thought it such good fun
that they got their guns, too. I never wish to spend such a terrible hour again.
I was sure they would kill me. I dare say they would have done so, for they were
all quite drunk by this time, if something had not happened.
"Poor Bob, who was almost as frightened as I was, and who lay shivering under
the wagon, was killed by a shot by his own master, whose hand was the most
unsteady of all. He gave one loud howl, kicked convulsively, then turned over on
his side and lay quite still. It sobered them all. They ran up to him, but he
was quite dead. They sat for a while quite silent, then they threw the rest of
the bottles into the lake, dug a shallow grave for Bob, and putting me in the
wagon drove slowly back to town. They were not bad young men. I don't think they
meant to hurt me, or to kill Bob. It was the nasty stuff in the bottles that
took away their reason.
"I was never the same dog again. I was quite deaf in my right ear, and though I
strove against it, I was so terribly afraid of even the sight of a gun that I
would run and hide myself whenever one was shown to me. My master was very angry
with those young men, and it seemed as if he could not bear the sight of me. One
day he took me very kindly and brought me here, and asked Mr. Morris if he did
not want a good-natured dog to play with the children.
"I have a happy home here and I love the Morris boys; but I often wish that I
could keep from putting my tail between my legs and running home every time I
hear the sound of a gun."
"Never mind that, Jim," I said. "You should not fret over a thing