Rudder Grange — Ch. 7: Treating of an Unsuccessful Broker and a Dog, pt. 2
When I had done this Euphemia and I went home.
The tramp had cost me some money, but I was well satisfied with my evening's work, and felt that the township owed me, at least, a vote of thanks.
But I firmly made up my mind that Euphemia should never again be left unprotected.
I would not even trust to a servant who would agree to have no afternoons out.
I would get a dog.
The next day I advertised for a fierce watchdog, and in the course of a week I got one.
Before I procured him I examined into the merits, and price, of about one hundred dogs.
My dog was named Pete, but I determined to make a change in that respect.
He was a very tall, bony, powerful beast, of a dull black color, and with a lower jaw that would crack the hind-leg of an ox, so I was informed.
He was of a varied breed, and the good Irishman of whom I bought him said he had fine blood in him, and attempted to refer him back to the different classes of dogs from which he had been derived.
But after I had had him awhile, I made an analysis based on his appearance and character, and concluded that he was mainly blood-hound, shaded with wolf-dog and mastiff, and picked out with touches of bull-dog.
The man brought him home for me, and chained him up in an unused wood-shed, for I had no doghouse as yet.
“Now thin,” said he, “all you've got to do is to keep 'im chained up there for three or four days till he gets used to ye.
An' I'll tell ye the best way to make a dog like ye.
Jist give him a good lickin'.
Then he'll know yer his master, and he'll like ye iver aftherward.
There's plenty of people that don't know that.
And, by the way, sir, that chain's none too strong for 'im.
I got it when he wasn't mor'n half grown.
Ye'd bether git him a new one.
” When the man had gone, I stood and looked at the dog, and could not help hoping that he would learn to like me without the intervention of a thrashing.
Such harsh methods were not always necessary, I felt sure.
After our evening meal--a combination of dinner and supper, of which Euphemia used to say that she did not know whether to call it dinper or supner--we went out together to look at our new guardian.
Euphemia was charmed with him.
“How massive!
” she exclaimed.
“What splendid limbs!
And look at that immense head!
I know I shall never be afraid now.
I feel that that is a dog I can rely upon.
Make him stand up, please, so I can see how tall he is.
” “I think it would be better not to disturb him,” I answered, “he may be tired.
He will get up of his own accord very soon.
And indeed I hope that he will not get up until I go to the store and get him a new chain.
” As I said this I made a step forward to look at his chain, and at that instant a low growl, like the first rumblings of an earthquake, ran through the dog.
I stepped back again and walked over to the village for the chain.
The dog-chains shown me at the store all seemed too short and too weak, and I concluded to buy two chains such as used for hitching horses and to join them so as to make a long as well as a strong one of them.
I wanted him to be able to come out of the wood-shed when it should be necessary to show himself.
On my way home with my purchase the thought suddenly struck me, How will you put that chain on your dog?
The memory of the rumbling growl was still vivid.
I never put the chain on him.
As I approached him with it in my hand, he rose to his feet, his eyes sparkled, his black lips drew back from his mighty teeth, he gave one savage bark and sprang at me.
His chain held and I went into the house.
That night he broke loose and went home to his master, who lived fully ten miles away.
When I found in the morning that he was gone I was in doubt whether it would be better to go and look for him or not.
But I concluded to keep up a brave heart, and found him, as I expected, at the place where I had bought him.
The Irishman took him to my house again and I had to pay for the man's loss of time as well as for his fare on the railroad.
But the dog's old master chained him up with the new chain and I felt repaid for my outlay.
Every morning and night I fed that dog, and I spoke as kindly and gently to him as I knew how.
But he seemed to cherish a distaste for me, and always greeted me with a growl.
He was an awful dog.
About a week after the arrival of this animal, I was astonished and frightened on nearing the house to hear a scream from my wife.
I rushed into the yard and was greeted with a succession of screams from two voices, that seemed to come from the vicinity of the wood-shed.
Hurrying thither, I perceived Euphemia standing on the roof of the shed in perilous proximity to the edge, while near the ridge of the roof sat our hired girl with her handkerchief over her head.
“Hurry, hurry!
” cried Euphemia.
“Climb up here!
The dog is loose!
Be quick!
Be quick!
Oh!
he's coming, he's coming!
” I asked for no explanation.
There was a rail-fence by the side of the shed and I sprang on this, and was on the roof just as the dog came bounding and barking from the barn.
Instantly Euphemia had me in her arms, and we came very near going off the roof together.
“I never feared to have you come home before,” she sobbed.
“I thought he would tear you limb from limb.
” “But how did all this happen?
” said I. “Och!
I kin hardly remember,” said the girl from under her handkerchief.
“Well, I didn't ask you,” I said, somewhat too sharply.
“Oh, I'll tell you,” said Euphemia.
“There was a man at the gate and he looked suspicious and didn't try to come in, and Mary was at the barn looking for an egg, and I thought this was a good time to see whether the dog was a good watch-dog or not, so I went and unchained him--” “Did you unchain that dog?
” I cried.
“Yes, and the minute he was loose he made a rush at the gate, but the man was gone before he got there, and as he ran down the road I saw that he was Mr. Henderson's man, who was coming here on an errand, I expect, and then I went down to the barn to get Mary to come and help me chain up the dog, and when she came out he began to chase me and then her;
and we were so frightened that we climbed up here, and I don't know, I'm sure, how I ever got up that fence; and do you think he can climb up here?
” “Oh no!
my dear,” I said.
“An' he's just the beast to go afther a stip-ladder,” said the girl, in muffled tones.
“And what are we to do?
” asked Euphemia.
“We can't eat and sleep up here.
Don't you think that if we were all to shout out together, we could make some neighbor hear?
” “Oh yes!
” I said, “there is no doubt of it.
But then, if a neighbor came, the dog would fall on him--” “And tear him limb from limb,” interrupted Euphemia.
“Yes, and besides, my dear, I should hate to have any of the neighbors come and find us all up here.
It would look so utterly absurd.
Let me try and think of some other plan.
” “Well, please be as quick as you can.
It's dreadful to be--who's that?
” I looked up and saw a female figure just entering the yard.
“Oh, what shall we do” exclaimed Euphemia.
“The dog will get her.
Call to her!
” “No, no,” said I, “don't make a noise.
It will only bring the dog.
He seems to have gone to the barn, or somewhere.
Keep perfectly quiet, and she may go up on the porch, and as the front door is not locked, she may rush into the house, if she sees him coming.
” “I do hope she will do that,” said Euphemia, anxiously.
“And yet,” said I, “it's not pleasant to have strangers going into the house when there's no one there.
” “But it's better than seeing a stranger torn to pieces before your eyes,” said Euphemia.
“Yes,” I replied, “it is.
Don't you think we might get down now?
The dog isn't here.
” “No, no!
” cried Euphemia.
“There he is now, coming this way.
And look at that woman!
She is coming right to this shed.
” Sure enough, our visitor had passed by the front door, and was walking toward us.
Evidently she had heard our voices.
“Don't come here!
” cried Euphemia.
“You'll be killed!
Run!
run!
The dog is coming!
Why, mercy on us!
It's Pomona!
”
