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At the end of the half hour we discussed the advisability of chancing it, but decided not to. We should never, George said, confound foolhardiness with courage[40].
Courage, he continued George had quite a gift for maxims courage is the wisdom of manhood; foolhardiness, the folly of youth.
He said that to get down from the table while that dog remained in the room, would clearly prove us to be possessed of the latter quality; so we restrained ourselves, and sat on.
We sat on for over an hour, by which time, having both grown careless of life and indifferent to the voice of Wisdom, we did chance it; and throwing the table-cloth over our would-be murderer, charged for the door and got out.
The next morning we complained to our landlady of her carelessness in leaving wild beasts about the place, and we gave her a brief if not exactly truthful, history of the business.
Instead of the tender womanly sympathy we had expected, the old lady sat down in the easy chair and burst out laughing.
What! old Boozer, she exclaimed, you was afraid of old Boozer! Why, bless you, he wouldnt hurt a worm[41]! He aint got a tooth in his head, he aint; we has to feed him with a spoon; and Im sure the way the cat chivies him about must be enough to make his life a burden to him. I expect he wanted you to nurse him; hes used to being nursed.
And that was the brute that had kept us sitting on a table, with our boots off, for over an hour on a chilly night!
Another bull-dog exhibition that occurs to me was one given by my uncle. He had had a bull-dog a young one given to him by a friend. It was a grand dog, so his friend had told him; all it wanted was training it had not been properly trained. My uncle did not profess to know much about the training of bull-dogs; but it seemed a simple enough matter, so he thanked the man, and took his prize home at the end of a rope.
Have we got to live in the house with this? asked my aunt, indignantly, coming into the room about an hour after the dogs advent, followed by the quadruped himself, wearing an idiotically self-satisfied air.
That! exclaimed my uncle, in astonishment; why, its a splendid dog. His father was honourably mentioned only last year at the Aquarium.
Ah, well, all I can say is, that his son isnt going the way to get honourably mentioned in this neighbourhood, replied my aunt, with bitterness; hes just finished killing poor Mrs. McSlangers cat, if you want to know what he has been doing. And a pretty row therell be about it, too!
Cant we hush it up?[42] said my uncle.
Hush it up? retorted my aunt. If youd heard the row, you wouldnt sit there and talk like a fool. And if youll take my advice, added my aunt, youll set to work on this training, or whatever it is, that has got to be done to the dog, before any human life is lost.
My uncle was too busy to devote any time to the dog for the next day or so, and all that could be done was to keep the animal carefully confined to the house[43].
And a nice time we had with him! It was not that the animal was bad-hearted. He meant well he tried to do his duty. What was wrong with him was that he was too hard-working. He wanted to do too much. He started with an exaggerated and totally erroneous notion of his duties and responsibilities. His idea was that he had been brought into the house for the purpose of preventing any living human soul from coming near it and of preventing any person who might by chance have managed to slip in from ever again leaving it.
We endeavoured to induce him to take a less exalted view of his position, but in vain. That was the conception he had formed in his own mind concerning his earthly task, and that conception he insisted on living up to with[44], what appeared to us to be, unnecessary conscientiousness.
He so effectually frightened away all the trades people, that they at last refused to enter the gate. All that they would do was to bring their goods and drop them over the fence into the front garden, from where we had to go and fetch them as we wanted them.
I wish youd run into the garden, my aunt would say to me I was stopping with them at the time and see if you can find any sugar; I think theres some under the big rose-bush. If not, youd better go to Jones and order some.
And on the cooks inquiring what she should get ready for lunch, my aunt would say:
Well, Im sure, Jane, I hardly know. What have we? Are there any chops in the garden, or was it a bit of steak that I noticed on the lawn?
On the second afternoon the plumbers came to do a little job to the kitchen boiler. The dog, being engaged at the time in the front of the house, driving away the postman, did not notice their arrival. He was broken-hearted at finding them there when he got downstairs, and evidently blamed himself most bitterly. Still, there they were, all owing to his carelessness, and the only thing to be done now was to see that they did not escape.
There were three plumbers (it always takes three plumbers to do a job; the first man comes on ahead to tell you that the second man will be there soon, the second man comes to say that he cant stop, and the third man follows to ask if the first man has been there); and that faithful, dumb animal kept them pinned up in the kitchen fancy wanting to keep plumbers in a house longer than is absolutely necessary! for five hours, until my uncle came home; and the bill ran: Self and two men engaged six hours, repairing boiler-tap, 18s.[45]; material, 2d.[46]; total 18s. 2d.
He took a dislike to the cook from the very first[47]. We did not blame him for this. She was a disagreeable old woman, and we did not think much of her ourselves. But when it came to keeping her out of the kitchen, so that she could not do her work, and my aunt and uncle had to cook the dinner themselves, assisted by the housemaid a willing-enough girl, but necessarily inexperienced we felt that the woman was being subject to persecution.
My uncle, after this, decided that the dogs training must be no longer neglected. The man next door but one always talked as if he knew a lot about sporting matters, and to him my uncle went for advice as to how to set about it.
Oh, yes, said the man, cheerfully, very simple thing, training a bull-dog. Wants patience, thats all.
Oh, that will be all right, said my uncle; it cant want much more than living in the same house with him before hes trained does. How do you start?
Well, Ill tell you, said next-door-but-one. You take him up into a room where theres not much furniture, and you shut the door and bolt it.
I see, said my uncle.
Then you place him on the floor in the middle of the room, and you go down on your knees in front of him, and begin to irritate him.
Oh!
Yes and you go on irritating him until you have made him quite savage[48].
Which, from what I know of the dog, wont take long, observed my uncle thoughtfully.
So much the better. The moment he gets savage he will fly at you.
My uncle agreed that the idea seemed plausible.
He will fly at your throat, continued the next-door-but-one man, and this is where you will have to be careful. As he springs toward you, and before he gets hold of you, you must hit him a fair straight blow on his nose, and knock him down.