Beautiful Joe [5]
"bring me the hatchet."
He laid my head on the log and pressed one hand on my struggling body. I was now
a year old and a full-sized dog. There was a quick, dreadful pain, and he had
cut off my ear, not in the way they cut puppies' ears, but close to my head, so
close that he cut off some of the skin beyond it. Then he cut off the other ear,
and, turning me swiftly round, cut off my tail close to my body
Then he let me go and stood looking at me as I rolled on the ground and yelped
in agony. He was in such a passion that he did not think that people passing by
on the road might hear me.
CHAPTER III MY KIND DELIVERER AND MISS LAURA
THERE was a young man going by on a bicycle. He heard my screams, and springing
off his bicycle, came hurrying up the path, and stood among us before Jenkins
caught sight of him.
In the midst of my pain, I heard him say fiercely, "What have you been doing to
that dog?"
"I've been cuttin' his ears for fightin', my young gentleman," said Jenkins.
"There is no law to prevent that, is there?"
"And there is no law to prevent my giving you a beating," said the young man
angrily. In a trice he had seized Jenkins by the throat and was pounding him
with all his might. Mrs. Jenkins came and stood at the house door crying, but
making no effort to help her husband.
"Bring me a towel," the young man cried to her, after he had stretched Jenkins,
bruised and frightened, on the ground. She snatched off her apron and ran down
with it, and the young man wrapped me in it, and taking me carefully in his
arms, walked down the path to the gate. There were some little boys standing
there, watching him, their mouths wide open with astonishment. "Sonny," he said
to the largest of them, "if you will come behind and carry this dog, I will give
you a quarter."
The boy took me, and we set out. I was all smothered up in a cloth, and moaning
with pain, but still I looked out occasionally to see which way we were going.
We took the road to the town and stopped in front of a house on Washington
Street. The young man leaned his bicycle up against the house, took a quarter
from his pocket and put it in the boy's hand, and lifting me gently in his arms,
went up a lane leading to the back of the house.
There was a small stable there. He went into it, put me down on the floor and
uncovered my body. Some boys were playing about the stable, and I heard them
say, in horrified tones, "Oh, Cousin Harry, what is the matter with that dog?"
"Hush," he said. "Don't make a fuss. You, Jack, go down to the kitchen and ask
Mary for a basin of warm water and a sponge, and don't let your mother or Laura
hear you."
A few minutes later, the young man had bathed my bleeding ears and tail, and had
rubbed something on them that was cool and pleasant, and had bandaged them
firmly with strips of cotton. I felt much better and was able to look about me.
I was in a small stable, that was evidently not used for a stable, but more for
a play-room. There were various kinds of toys scattered about, and a swing and
bar, such as boys love to twist about on; in two different corners. In a box
against the wall was a guinea pig, looking at me in an interested way. This
guinea pig's name was Jeff, and he and I became good friends. A long-haired
French rabbit was hopping about, and a tame white rat was perched on the
shoulder of one of the boys, and kept his foothold there, no matter how suddenly
the boy moved. There were so many boys, and the stable was so small, that I
suppose he was afraid he would get stepped on if he went on the floor. He stared
hard at me with his little, red eyes, and never even glanced at a queer-looking,
gray cat that was watching me, too, from her bed in the back of the vacant horse
stall. Out in the sunny yard, some pigeons were pecking at grain, and a spaniel
lay asleep in a corner.
I had never seen anything like this before, and my wonder at it almost drove the
pain away. Mother and I always chased rats and birds,
He laid my head on the log and pressed one hand on my struggling body. I was now
a year old and a full-sized dog. There was a quick, dreadful pain, and he had
cut off my ear, not in the way they cut puppies' ears, but close to my head, so
close that he cut off some of the skin beyond it. Then he cut off the other ear,
and, turning me swiftly round, cut off my tail close to my body
Then he let me go and stood looking at me as I rolled on the ground and yelped
in agony. He was in such a passion that he did not think that people passing by
on the road might hear me.
CHAPTER III MY KIND DELIVERER AND MISS LAURA
THERE was a young man going by on a bicycle. He heard my screams, and springing
off his bicycle, came hurrying up the path, and stood among us before Jenkins
caught sight of him.
In the midst of my pain, I heard him say fiercely, "What have you been doing to
that dog?"
"I've been cuttin' his ears for fightin', my young gentleman," said Jenkins.
"There is no law to prevent that, is there?"
"And there is no law to prevent my giving you a beating," said the young man
angrily. In a trice he had seized Jenkins by the throat and was pounding him
with all his might. Mrs. Jenkins came and stood at the house door crying, but
making no effort to help her husband.
"Bring me a towel," the young man cried to her, after he had stretched Jenkins,
bruised and frightened, on the ground. She snatched off her apron and ran down
with it, and the young man wrapped me in it, and taking me carefully in his
arms, walked down the path to the gate. There were some little boys standing
there, watching him, their mouths wide open with astonishment. "Sonny," he said
to the largest of them, "if you will come behind and carry this dog, I will give
you a quarter."
The boy took me, and we set out. I was all smothered up in a cloth, and moaning
with pain, but still I looked out occasionally to see which way we were going.
We took the road to the town and stopped in front of a house on Washington
Street. The young man leaned his bicycle up against the house, took a quarter
from his pocket and put it in the boy's hand, and lifting me gently in his arms,
went up a lane leading to the back of the house.
There was a small stable there. He went into it, put me down on the floor and
uncovered my body. Some boys were playing about the stable, and I heard them
say, in horrified tones, "Oh, Cousin Harry, what is the matter with that dog?"
"Hush," he said. "Don't make a fuss. You, Jack, go down to the kitchen and ask
Mary for a basin of warm water and a sponge, and don't let your mother or Laura
hear you."
A few minutes later, the young man had bathed my bleeding ears and tail, and had
rubbed something on them that was cool and pleasant, and had bandaged them
firmly with strips of cotton. I felt much better and was able to look about me.
I was in a small stable, that was evidently not used for a stable, but more for
a play-room. There were various kinds of toys scattered about, and a swing and
bar, such as boys love to twist about on; in two different corners. In a box
against the wall was a guinea pig, looking at me in an interested way. This
guinea pig's name was Jeff, and he and I became good friends. A long-haired
French rabbit was hopping about, and a tame white rat was perched on the
shoulder of one of the boys, and kept his foothold there, no matter how suddenly
the boy moved. There were so many boys, and the stable was so small, that I
suppose he was afraid he would get stepped on if he went on the floor. He stared
hard at me with his little, red eyes, and never even glanced at a queer-looking,
gray cat that was watching me, too, from her bed in the back of the vacant horse
stall. Out in the sunny yard, some pigeons were pecking at grain, and a spaniel
lay asleep in a corner.
I had never seen anything like this before, and my wonder at it almost drove the
pain away. Mother and I always chased rats and birds,