|
Main
- books.jibble.org
My Books
- IRC Hacks
Misc. Articles
- Meaning of Jibble
- M4 Su Doku
- Computer Scrapbooking
- Setting up Java
- Bootable Java
- Cookies in Java
- Dynamic Graphs
- Social Shakespeare
External Links
- Paul Mutton
- Jibble Photo Gallery
- Jibble Forums
- Google Landmarks
- Jibble Shop
- Free Books
- Intershot Ltd
|
books.jibble.org
Previous Page
| Next Page
Page 23
What looked like a miracle was no more than the same beautifully
simple process which Nature enacts every day, when she changes an
awkward and dirt-colored cygnet into a glorious swan or a leggily
gawky colt into a superb Derby-winner. But Bruce's metamorphosis
seemed none the less wonderful in the eyes of the two people who
had learned to love him.
Somewhere in the hideous wreck of Dr. Halding's motorcar the dog
had found a soul--and the rest had followed as a natural course
of growth.
At the autumn dog-show, in Hampton, a "dark-sable-and-white"
collie of unwonted size and beauty walked proudly into the ring
close to the Mistress's side, when the puppy class was called--a
class that includes all dogs under twelve months old. Six minutes
later the Mistress was gleesomely accepting the first-prize blue
ribbon, for "best puppy," from Judge Symonds' own gnarled hand.
Then came the other classes for collies--"Novice," "Open,"
"Limit," "Local," "American Bred." And as Bruce paced
majestically out of the ring at last, he was the possessor of
five more blue ribbons--as well as the blue Winner's rosette, for
"best collie in the show."
"Great dog you've got there, madam!" commented Symonds in solemn
approval as he handed the Winner's rosette to the Mistress. "Fine
dog in every way. Fine promise. He will go far. One of the best
types I've--"
"Do you really think so?" sweetly replied the Mistress. "Why, one
of the foremost collie judges in America has gone on record as
calling him a 'measly St. Bernard monstrosity.'"
"No?" snorted Symonds, incredulous. "You don't say so! A judge
who would speak so, of that dog, doesn't understand his business.
He--"
"Oh, yes, he does!" contradicted the Mistress, glancing lovingly
at her handful of blue ribbons. "I think he understands his
business very well indeed--NOW!"
CHAPTER III. The War Dog
The guest had decided to wait until next morning, before leaving
The Place, instead of following his first plan of taking a night
train to New York. He was a captain in our regular army and had
newly come back from France to forget an assortment of shrapnel-
bites and to teach practical tactics to rookies.
He reached his decision to remain over night at The Place while
he and the Mistress and the Master were sitting on the vine-hung
west veranda after dinner, watching the flood of sunset change
the lake to molten gold and the sky to pink fire. It would be
pleasant to steal another few hours at this back-country House of
Peace before returning to the humdrum duties of camp. And the
guest yielded to the temptation.
"I'm mighty glad you can stay over till morning," said the
Master. "I'll send word to Roberts not to bring up the car."
As he spoke, he scrawled a penciled line on an envelope-back;
then he whistled.
From a cool lounging-place beneath the wistaria-vines arose a
huge collie--stately of form, dark brown and white of coat, deep-
set of eye and with a head that somehow reminded one of a
Landseer engraving. The collie trotted up the steps of the
veranda and stood expectant before the Master. The latter had
been folding the envelope lengthwise. Now he slipped it through
the ring in the dog's collar.
"Give it to Roberts," he said.
The big collie turned and set off at a hand-gallop.
"Good!" approved the guest. "Bruce didn't seem to be in any doubt
as to what you wanted him to do. He knows where Roberts is likely
to be?"
Previous Page
| Next Page
|
|