Welcome to the Monkey House - Kurt Vonnegut [48]
"I don’t believe it!" said Bullard.
"May I be struck by lightning this very instant!" said the stranger. "And it did work, too. Edison had tried out the analyzer on the men in his shop, without telling them what he was up to. The smarter a man was, by gosh, the farther the needle on the indicator in the little black box swung to the right. I let him try it on me, and the needle just lay where it was and trembled. But dumb as I was, then is when I made my one and only contribution to the world. As I say, I haven’t lifted a finger since."
"Whadja do?" said Bullard, eagerly.
"I said, ’Mr. Edison, sir, let’s try it on the dog.’ And I wish you could have seen the show that dog put on when I said it! Old Sparky barked and howled and scratched to get out. When he saw we meant business, that he wasn’t going to get out, he made a beeline right for the intelligence analyzer and knocked it out of Edison’s hands. But we cornered him, and Edison held him down while I touched the wires to his ears. And would you believe it, that needle sailed clear across the dial, way past a little red pencil mark on the dial face!"
"The dog busted it," said Bullard.
" ’Mr. Edison, sir,’ I said, ’what’s that red mark mean?’
" ’My boy,’ said Edison, ’it means that the instrument is broken, because that red mark is me.’ "
"I’ll say it was broken," said Bullard.
The stranger said gravely, "But it wasn’t broken. No, sir. Edison checked the whole thing, and it was in apple-pie order. When Edison told me that, it was then that Sparky, crazy to get out, gave himself away."
"How?" said Bullard, suspiciously.
"We really had him locked in, see? There were three locks on the door—a hook and eye, a bolt, and a regular knob and latch. That dog stood up, unhooked the hook, pushed the bolt back and had the knob in his teeth when Edison stopped him."
"No!" said Bullard.
"Yes!" said the stranger, his eyes shining. "And then is when Edison showed me what a great scientist he was. He was willing to face the truth, no matter how unpleasant it might be.
" ’So!’ said Edison to Sparky. ’Man’s best friend, huh? Dumb animal, huh?’
"That Sparky was a caution. He pretended not to hear. He scratched himself and bit fleas and went around growling at ratholes—anything to get out of looking Edison in the eye.
" ’Pretty soft, isn’t it, Sparky?’ said Edison. ’Let somebody else worry about getting food, building shelters and keeping warm, while you sleep in front of a fire or go chasing after the girls or raise hell with the boys. No mortgages, no politics, no war, no work, no worry. Just wag the old tail or lick a hand, and you’re all taken care of.’
" ’Mr. Edison,’ I said, ’do you mean to tell me that dogs are smarter than people?’
" ’Smarter?’ said Edison. ’I’ll tell the world! And what have I been doing for the past year? Slaving to work out a light bulb so dogs can play at night!’
" ’Look, Mr. Edison,’ said Sparky, ’why not—’ "
"Hold on!" roared Bullard.
"Silence!" shouted the stranger, triumphantly. " ’Look, Mr. Edison,’ said Sparky, ’why not keep quiet about this? It’s been working out to everybody’s satisfaction for hundreds of thousands of years. Let sleeping dogs lie. You forget all about it, destroy the intelligence analyzer, and I’ll tell you what to use for a lamp filament.’ "
"Hogwash!" said Bullard, his face purple.
The stranger stood. "You have my solemn word as a gentleman. That dog rewarded me for my silence with a stock-market tip that made me independently wealthy for the rest of my days. And the last words that Sparky ever spoke were to Thomas Edison. ’Try a piece of carbonized cotton thread,’ he said. Later, he was torn to bits by a pack of dogs that had gathered outside the door, listening."
The stranger removed his garters and handed them to Bullard’s dog. "A small token of esteem, sir, for an ancestor of yours who talked himself to