Beautiful Joe [46]
long, cold spring, and not being used to the heat, it seemed very hard to
bear.
Before the train started, the doors of the baggage car were closed, and it
became quite dark inside. The darkness, and the heat, and the close smell, and
the noise, as we went rushing along, made me feel sick and frightened.
I did not dare to lie down, but sat up trembling and wishing that we might soon
come to Riverdale Station. But we did not get there for some time, and I was to
have a great fright.
I was thinking of all the stories that I knew of animals traveling. In February,
the Drurys' Newfoundland watch-dog, Pluto, had arrived from New York, and he
told Jim and me that he had a miserable journey.
A gentleman friend of Mr. Drury's had brought him from New York. He saw him
chained up in his car, and he went into his Pullman, first tipping the baggage-
master handsomely to look after him. Pluto said that the baggage-master had a
very red nose, and he was always getting drinks for himself when they stopped at
a station, but he never once gave him a drink or anything to eat, from the time
they left New York till they got to Fairport. When the train stopped there, and
Pluto's chain was unfastened, he sprang out on the platform and nearly knocked
Mr. Drury down. He saw some snow that had sifted through the station roof and he
was so thirsty that he began to lick it up. When the snow was all gone, he
jumped up and licked the frost on the windows.
Mr. Drury's friend was so angry. He found the baggage-master, and said to him:
"What did you mean, by coming into my car every few hours, to tell me that the
dog was fed, and watered, and comfortable? I shall report you."
He went into the office at the station, and complained of the man, and was told
that he was a drinking man, and was going to be dismissed.
I was not afraid of suffering like Pluto, because it was only going to take us a
few hours to get to Riverdale. I found that we always went slowly before we came
in to a station, and one time when we began to slacken speed I thought that
surely we must be at our journey's end. However, it was not Riverdale. The car
gave a kind of jump, then there was a crashing sound ahead, and we stopped.
I heard men shouting and running up and down, and I wondered what had happened.
It was all dark and still in the car, and nobody came in, but the noise kept up
outside, and I knew something had gone wrong with the train. Perhaps Miss Laura
had got hurt. Something must have happened to her or she would come to me.
I barked and pulled at my chain till my neck was sore, but for a long, long time
I was there alone. The men running about outside must have heard me. If ever I
hear a man in trouble and crying for help I go to him and see what he wants.
After such a long time that it seemed to me it must be the middle of the night,
the door at the end of the car opened, and a man looked in "This is all through
baggage for New York, miss," I heard him say; "they wouldn't put your dog in
here."
"Yes, they did I am sure this is the car," I heard in the voice I knew so well,
"and won't you get him out, please? He must be terribly frightened."
The man stooped down and unfastened my chain, grumbling to himself because I had
not been put in another car. ""Some folks tumble a dog round as if he was a
chunk of coal," he said, patting me kindly.
I was nearly wild with delight to get with Miss Laura again, but I had barked so
much, and pressed my neck so hard with my collar that my voice was all gone. I
fawned on her, and wagged myself about, and opened and shut my mouth, but no
sound came out of it.
It made Miss Laura nervous. She tried to laugh and cry at the same time, and
then bit her lip hard, and said: "Oh, Joe, don't."
"He's lost his bark, hasn't he?" said the man, looking at me curiously.
"It is a wicked thing to confine an animal in a dark and closed car," said Miss
Laura, trying to see her way down the steps through her tears.
The man put out
bear.
Before the train started, the doors of the baggage car were closed, and it
became quite dark inside. The darkness, and the heat, and the close smell, and
the noise, as we went rushing along, made me feel sick and frightened.
I did not dare to lie down, but sat up trembling and wishing that we might soon
come to Riverdale Station. But we did not get there for some time, and I was to
have a great fright.
I was thinking of all the stories that I knew of animals traveling. In February,
the Drurys' Newfoundland watch-dog, Pluto, had arrived from New York, and he
told Jim and me that he had a miserable journey.
A gentleman friend of Mr. Drury's had brought him from New York. He saw him
chained up in his car, and he went into his Pullman, first tipping the baggage-
master handsomely to look after him. Pluto said that the baggage-master had a
very red nose, and he was always getting drinks for himself when they stopped at
a station, but he never once gave him a drink or anything to eat, from the time
they left New York till they got to Fairport. When the train stopped there, and
Pluto's chain was unfastened, he sprang out on the platform and nearly knocked
Mr. Drury down. He saw some snow that had sifted through the station roof and he
was so thirsty that he began to lick it up. When the snow was all gone, he
jumped up and licked the frost on the windows.
Mr. Drury's friend was so angry. He found the baggage-master, and said to him:
"What did you mean, by coming into my car every few hours, to tell me that the
dog was fed, and watered, and comfortable? I shall report you."
He went into the office at the station, and complained of the man, and was told
that he was a drinking man, and was going to be dismissed.
I was not afraid of suffering like Pluto, because it was only going to take us a
few hours to get to Riverdale. I found that we always went slowly before we came
in to a station, and one time when we began to slacken speed I thought that
surely we must be at our journey's end. However, it was not Riverdale. The car
gave a kind of jump, then there was a crashing sound ahead, and we stopped.
I heard men shouting and running up and down, and I wondered what had happened.
It was all dark and still in the car, and nobody came in, but the noise kept up
outside, and I knew something had gone wrong with the train. Perhaps Miss Laura
had got hurt. Something must have happened to her or she would come to me.
I barked and pulled at my chain till my neck was sore, but for a long, long time
I was there alone. The men running about outside must have heard me. If ever I
hear a man in trouble and crying for help I go to him and see what he wants.
After such a long time that it seemed to me it must be the middle of the night,
the door at the end of the car opened, and a man looked in "This is all through
baggage for New York, miss," I heard him say; "they wouldn't put your dog in
here."
"Yes, they did I am sure this is the car," I heard in the voice I knew so well,
"and won't you get him out, please? He must be terribly frightened."
The man stooped down and unfastened my chain, grumbling to himself because I had
not been put in another car. ""Some folks tumble a dog round as if he was a
chunk of coal," he said, patting me kindly.
I was nearly wild with delight to get with Miss Laura again, but I had barked so
much, and pressed my neck so hard with my collar that my voice was all gone. I
fawned on her, and wagged myself about, and opened and shut my mouth, but no
sound came out of it.
It made Miss Laura nervous. She tried to laugh and cry at the same time, and
then bit her lip hard, and said: "Oh, Joe, don't."
"He's lost his bark, hasn't he?" said the man, looking at me curiously.
"It is a wicked thing to confine an animal in a dark and closed car," said Miss
Laura, trying to see her way down the steps through her tears.
The man put out