Volume Ii Part 1 (1/2)
Paul and His Dog.
VOL.2.
by Charles Paul de k.o.c.k.
PART II
THE CHAMOUREAUS
I
THE INSTINCT OF DOGS
”You have not told us yet, monsieur le docteur,” said Agathe, ”how the little fellow fell into the water. I fancy that he was not trying to play a trick on himself?”
”Oh, no! mademoiselle; but still that accident happened to him as a result of his evil disposition. In the first place, he did not fall into the water--he went in himself. My young gentleman was pleased to bathe, although it isn't warm enough yet for bathing in the river; but he had been forbidden to do it, and that was a sufficient reason for him to do it. He had also been told, when he did bathe, not to go to that particular part of the Marne, because, on account of the eddies and currents, it was very dangerous and even the best swimmer might be drowned.
”My little scamp, who is afraid of nothing, did not fail to go to that spot to bathe, about three days ago. But when he tried to swim, he found that he was being drawn under; his strength failed him and he shouted for help. Ami happened to be pa.s.sing--his master was not far away, probably--and in two bounds the dog was in the water. He swam toward the child, who was sinking, caught him by the hair and carried him to the bank. The little fellow had nothing worse than a fright.”
”Of course he patted and fondled the dog, to thank him for the service he had rendered him?”
”He? He called him a nasty beast and said: 'You fool, to grab me by the hair and make my head ache! you deserve to be licked!' That was the young gentleman's grat.i.tude!”
”Oh, dear! he certainly is a wicked little boy.”
”If my son had lived,” sighed Honorine, ”I am sure he wouldn't have been naughty like that!”
”Probably not, madame; for children generally take after their father and mother more or less, although there have been great criminals who were born of most estimable parents. But you would have taken care of your child, madame; you would have repressed his evil tendencies, corrected his faults, early in life; and that is just what poor Jacqueline could not do. The good woman, being obliged to work for her living, could not keep her eye on the boy, who, no doubt, pa.s.sed his days in the village street with the other children, from the moment he was able to walk. And here it is the same: Jacqueline works for her sister, and little Emile does what he pleases, for there is no way of keeping him in the house. Mere Tourniquoi undertook to make him go to school,--but no; the rascal beat his schoolmates, laughed at his teachers, played tricks on them, concealed or destroyed the school-books--so that they turned him out of the school.”
”He's a promising child!” cried Agathe; ”still, I am curious to see him.”
”And so am I,” said Honorine; ”if only we might by gentle treatment and reasoning bring him around to better sentiments!--for he will be a man some day! There are too many people who enjoy doing evil; and it is blameworthy to allow the number to increase!”
”What you say is very true, madame, but in truth I believe that you would waste your time with the lost child; not that he is without intelligence and doesn't understand what is said to him;--oh! no, indeed! On the contrary, the little rascal has plenty of wit, and he often proves it by what he says; but it's an evil kind of wit, mischievous and wicked!”
”Oh! doctor, consider that he is not eight years old, so you told us!
One would think, to hear you talk, that you do not love children.”
”I do love them dearly until they are two years old; but very little when they are growing up.”
”If this one has intelligence, there is still hope; only the unintelligent are hopeless.”
”Ah! but what I love,” cried Agathe, ”is that splendid dog, who throws himself into the water as soon as he sees anyone in danger; that is magnificent!”
”That is not at all extraordinary, mademoiselle, in a dog of that breed.
I do not mean to decry Ami's merit, I acknowledge that it is very great--although our acquaintance began in such strange fas.h.i.+on, as you remember. I simply mean to say that history, both ancient and modern, relates such astounding facts with respect to dogs that one would be tempted to doubt them, if they did not come from authors deserving of credit. Moreover, we ourselves constantly witness actions which do honor to the canine race. I have read not a little--for one must do something with one's time, and in this small place my profession leaves me a great deal of leisure. If I were not afraid of making myself a bore, I would tell you some of these remarkable stories.”
”Far from boring us, it will interest us deeply; but you will allow us to work while we listen.”
The doctor, having taken a pinch of snuff, bowed to the ladies, because he thought that he was going to sneeze, and continued, with that supremely happy expression which appears upon the faces of people who are given to gossiping when they see that their listeners are profoundly attentive: