Part 9 (1/2)

”Well, do so the first chance you get. That's on of the loveliest dog stories ever written, and it's true. Greyfriars Bobby was a Skye terrier.

”This is the Clydesdale or Paisley terrier. Not at all a common breed.

I doubt if you'll ever see one in the United States. He looks something like the Skye, but his coat is silkier. He's steel blue on the body and head, with golden tan feet. The Yorks.h.i.+re comes from the other side of the border, and he's something like the Clydesdale, only with longer legs and shorter body. He's a fancy dog with a wonderful coat, parted down the middle and sweeping the ground. He's steel blue with tan markings on the head, chest, and legs.

”There you have all the terriers,” he concluded, ”and I guess you've had a long enough lesson for one day. These facts are all very interesting, but they become prosy and confusing if taken in too large doses. Here, take this book home with you, and look it over at your leisure. You'll find in it all the things I've told you and a lot more besides.”

”Terriers are the smartest dogs there are, I guess,” said Harry.

”Well, I don't know as I should want to say quite that,” said Mr.

Hartshorn. ”Smartness and other qualities are as much a matter of individuals as of breeds. However, the terriers certainly have won that reputation.”

”Do you know any good stories about them?” asked Harry, who was never backward in such matters. Mr. Hartshorn laughed.

”Unfortunately my memory for stories isn't very good,” said he, ”but I have lots of stories in books, and before you boys come up again, I'll look up some of them. Meanwhile, see if they have a book in the Boytown Library by Edward Jesse, called 'Anecdotes of Dogs.' It was published in London in 1858, and it isn't very common, but if you can find a copy, it's a dandy. It contains most of the historic dog stories. It includes several stories about terriers, chiefly ill.u.s.trating their intelligence, but also their devotion. Many of them, I recall, are stories of dogs that found their way home over unknown roads after being carried away for long distances. This homing instinct seems to be very strong in the terrier. The breed has always been a very close and intimate companion of man, and that has sharpened his wits and deepened his sympathies.

”The only terrier story that I recall at the moment is a little anecdote that ill.u.s.trates the terrier's shrewdness rather than his uprightness of character. A lady music teacher was going to the home of one of her pupils one day when some sort of wire-haired terrier surprised and startled her by running out from a field and seizing her skirt in his teeth. She tried to drive him away, but he wouldn't go.

Becoming somewhat alarmed by his actions, she called to two laborers who were working in the field, and they came to her a.s.sistance.

”'He wants you to go with him, ma'am,” one of the men said. 'I've heard of dogs actin' like that. Maybe it's a murder or something. I guess we'd better go along.'

”They followed the dog to the rear of a cottage, and he at once began to dig feverishly at a heavy plank. The workmen, half expecting to find a corpse, lifted the plank, only to disclose a large beef bone.

This the terrier at once appropriated and made off with it, without waiting to express his thanks for a.s.sistance.”

The boys laughed over this story, and thanked Mr. Hartshorn warmly for the interesting things he had told them. Then, squabbling good-naturedly over the possession of the dog book, they hurried off to catch the late afternoon train back to Boytown.

It was not long before they had another lesson in dog lore, though this time it was not Mr. Hartshorn who was their teacher. The next Sat.u.r.day the three of them made another trip to Thornboro to return the book, in the fascinating contents of which they had been reveling for a week. They met Tom Poultice on the road with half a dozen of the dogs out for exercise. They were a lively lot, and it took about all of Tom's attention to keep them in hand.

”Mr. 'Artshorn isn't 'ome to-day,” said Tom. ”You come along with me and the dogs and I'll show you some fun. You can leave the book up at the 'ouse when we get back.”

The boys accepted this as a rare privilege, and for an hour or two accompanied Tom and his troublesome pack about the country roads. The bull terriers were fairly well behaved, but the Airedales seemed bent upon getting into all kinds of mischief. On two occasions Tom had his hands full breaking up what promised to become a free-for-all fight.

But the boys could not help admiring the boundless vigor of these dogs who seemed hardly able to contain all the youth and joy and life within them. It made the boys want to run and romp and caper in sympathy.

As they entered the drive at Willowdale on their return, they saw a sweet-faced woman standing on the porch with a little woolly white dog beside her.

”That's Mrs. 'Artshorn,” said Tom. ”You can give the book to 'er.

She'd like you to stop and speak to 'er.”

Somewhat shyly the boys followed his advice, but Mrs. Hartshorn, like her husband, seemed to have the faculty of making them soon feel at their ease. She at once introduced them to Daisy, her toy white poodle. Daisy's long hair had been trimmed and clipped in a ridiculous manner that made the boys laugh, but she soon proved herself to be as smart as a whip. Mrs. Hartshorn put her through all her pretty tricks.

”I suppose, after seeing all those Airedales and bull terriers, you won't think much of my little dogs,” said Mrs. Hartshorn. ”Tom Poultice is very scornful about toys. But a dog is a dog, no matter how little. I want you to come in and see my prize Pomeranian, Tip.”

They followed her into the house and up a broad staircase. At the top she turned and said:

”I think Tip is in the nursery with the baby. Don't be startled if he tries to eat you up. You needn't be quiet, because it's about time for baby's nap to be over.”

She ushered them into the nursery, a pretty pink and white room, and there lay a handsome, chocolate-colored little dog on a mat beside a white crib. At the sight of strangers Tip growled a little and showed his white teeth.