Ranson's Folly (Fiscle Part 3) by Richard Harding Davis (dar e dil novel online reading TXT) 📕

Was That Tied Up In Bandages He Couldn't Even Waddle. So When He

Heard That Side Of It,  "Mr. Wyndham,  Sir," Told Us That If Nolan Put

Me On A Chain,  We Could Stay. So It Came Out All Right For Everybody

But Me. I Was Glad The Master Kept His Place,  But I'd Never Worn A

Chain Before,  And It Disheartened Me--But That Was The Least Of It.

For The Quality-Dogs Couldn't Forgive My Whipping Their Champion,  And

They Came To The Fence Between The Kennels And The Stables,  And

Laughed Through The Bars,  Barking Most Cruel Words At Me. I Couldn't

Understand How They Found It Out,  But They Knew. After The Fight

Jimmy Jocks Was Most Condescending To Me,  And He Said The Grooms Had

Boasted To The Kennel-Men That I Was A Son Of Regent Royal,  And That

When The Kennel-Men Asked Who Was My Mother They Had Had To Tell Them

That Too. Perhaps That Was The Way Of It,  But,  However,  The Scandal

Was Out,  And Every One Of The Quality-Dogs Knew That I Was A Street-

Dog And The Son Of A Black-And-Tan.

"These Misalliances Will Occur," Said Jimmy Jocks,  In His Old-

Fashioned Way,  "But No Well-Bred Dog," Says He,  Looking Most Scornful

At The St. Bernards,  Who Were Howling Behind The Palings,  "Would

Refer To Your Misfortune Before You,  Certainly Not Cast It In Your

Face. I,  Myself,  Remember Your Father's Father,  When He Made His

Debut At The Crystal Palace. He Took Four Blue Ribbons And Three

Specials."

But No Sooner Than Jimmy Would Leave Me,  The St. Bernards Would Take

To Howling Again,  Insulting Mother And Insulting Me. And When I Tore

At My Chain,  They,  Seeing They Were Safe,  Would Howl The More. It Was

Never The Same After That; The Laughs And The Jeers Cut Into My

Heart,  And The Chain Bore Heavy On My Spirit. I Was So Sad That

Sometimes I Wished I Was Back In The Gutter Again,  Where No One Was

Better Than Me,  And Some Nights I Wished I Was Dead. If It Hadn't

Been For The Master Being So Kind,  And That It Would Have Looked Like

I Was Blaming Mother,  I Would Have Twisted My Leash And Hanged

Myself.

About A Month After My Fight,  The Word Was Passed Through The Kennels

That The New York Show Was Coming,  And Such Goings On As Followed I

Never Did See. If Each Of Them Had Been Matched To Fight For A

Thousand Pounds And The Gate,  They Couldn't Have Trained More

Conscientious. But,  Perhaps,  That's Just My Envy. The Kennel-Men

Rubbed 'Em And Scrubbed 'Em And Trims Their Hair And Curls And Combs

It,  And Some Dogs They Fatted,  And Some They Starved. No One Talked

Of Nothing But The Show,  And The Chances "Our Kennels" Had Against

The Other Kennels,  And If This One Of Our Champions Would Win Over

That One,  And Whether Them As Hoped To Be Champions Had Better Show

In The "Open" Or The "Limit" Class,  And Whether This Dog Would Beat

His Own Dad,  Or Whether His Little Puppy Sister Couldn't Beat The Two

Of Them. Even The Grooms Had Their Money Up,  And Day Or Night You

Heard Nothing But Praises Of "Our" Dogs,  Until I,  Being So Far Out Of

It,  Couldn't Have Felt Meaner If I Had Been Running The Streets With

A Can To My Tail. I Knew Shows Were Not For Such As Me,  And So I Lay

All Day Stretched At The End Of My Chain,  Pretending I Was Asleep,

And Only Too Glad That They Had Something So Important To Think Of,

That They Could Leave Me Alone.

But One Day Before The Show Opened,  Miss Dorothy Came To The Stables

With "Mr. Wyndham,  Sir," And Seeing Me Chained Up And So Miserable,

She Takes Me In Her Arms.

"You Poor Little Tyke," Says She. "It's Cruel To Tie Him Up So; He's

Eating His Heart Out,  Nolan," She Says. "I Don't Know Nothing About

Bull-Terriers," Says She,  "But I Think Kid's Got Good Points," Says

She,  "And You Ought To Show Him. Jimmy Jocks Has Three Legs On The

Rensselaer Cup Now,  And I'm Going To Show Him This Time So That He

Can Get The Fourth,  And If You Wish,  I'll Enter Your Dog Too. How

Would You Like That,  Kid?" Says She. "How Would You Like To See The

Most Beautiful Dogs In The World? Maybe,  You'd Meet A Pal Or Two,"

Says She. "It Would Cheer You Up,  Wouldn't It,  Kid?" Says She. But I

Was So Upset,  I Could Only Wag My Tail Most Violent. "He Says It

Would!" Says She,  Though,  Being That Excited,  I Hadn't Said Nothing.

So,  "Mr. Wyndham,  Sir," Laughs And Takes Out A Piece Of Blue Paper,

And Sits Down At The Head-Groom's Table.

"What's The Name Of The Father Of Your Dog,  Nolan?" Says He. And

Nolan Says,  "The Man I Got Him Off Told Me He Was A Son Of Champion

Regent Royal,  Sir. But It Don't Seem Likely,  Does It?" Says Nolan.

"It Does Not!" Says "Mr. Wyndham,  Sir," Short-Like.

"Aren't You Sure,  Nolan?" Says Miss Dorothy.

"No,  Miss," Says The Master.

"Sire Unknown," Says "Mr. Wyndham,  Sir," And Writes It Down.

"Date Of Birth?" Asks "Mr. Wyndham,  Sir."

"I--I--Unknown,  Sir," Says Nolan. And "Mr. Wyndham,  Sir," Writes It

Down.

"Breeder?" Says "Mr. Wyndham,  Sir."

"Unknown," Says Nolan,  Getting Very Red Around The Jaws,  And I Drops

My Head And Tail. And "Mr. Wyndham,  Sir," Writes That Down.

"Mother's Name?" Says "Mr. Wyndham,  Sir."

"She Was A--Unknown," Says The Master. And I Licks His Hand.

"Dam Unknown," Says "Mr. Wyndham,  Sir," And Writes It Down. Then He

Takes The Paper And Reads Out Loud: "Sire Unknown,  Dam Unknown,

Breeder Unknown,  Date Of Birth Unknown. You'd Better Call Him The

'Great Unknown,'" Says He. "Who's Paying His Entrance-Fee?"

"I Am," Says Miss Dorothy.

Two Weeks After We All Got On A Train For New York; Jimmy Jocks And

Me Following Nolan In The Smoking-Car,  And Twenty-Two Of The St.

Bernards,  In Boxes And Crates,  And On Chains And Leashes. Such A

Barking And Howling I Never Did Hear,  And When They Sees Me Going,

Too,  They Laughs Fit To Kill.

"Wot Is This; A Circus?" Says The Railroad-Man.

But I Had No Heart In It. I Hated To Go. I Knew I Was No "Show" Dog,

Even Though Miss Dorothy And The Master Did Their Best To Keep Me

From Shaming Them. For Before We Set Out Miss Dorothy Brings A Man

From Town Who Scrubbed And Rubbed Me,  And Sand-Papered My Tail,  Which

Hurt Most Awful,  And Shaved My Ears With The Master's Razor,  So You

Could Most See Clear Through 'Em,  And Sprinkles Me Over With Pipe-

Clay,  Till I Shines Like A Tommy's Cross-Belts.

"Upon My Word!" Says Jimmy Jocks When He First Sees Me. "What A Swell

You Are! You're The Image Of Your Grand-Dad When He Made His Debut At

The Crystal Palace. He Took Four Firsts And Three Specials." But I

Knew He Was Only Trying To Throw Heart Into Me. They Might Scrub,  And

They Might Rub,  And They Might Pipe-Clay,  But They Couldn't Pipe-Clay

The Insides Of Me,  And They Was Black-And-Tan.

Then We Came To A Garden,  Which It Was Not,  But The Biggest Hall In

The World. Inside There Was Lines Of Benches,  A Few Miles Long,  And

On Them Sat Every Dog In The World. If All The Dog-Snatchers In

Montreal Had Worked Night And Day For A Year,  They Couldn't Have

Caught So Many Dogs. And They Was All Shouting And Barking And

Howling So Vicious,  That My Heart Stopped Beating. For At First I

Thought They Was All Enraged At My Presuming To Intrude,  But After I

Got In My Place,  They Kept At It Just The Same,  Barking At Every Dog

As He Come In; Daring Him To Fight,  And Ordering Him Out,  And Asking

Him What Breed Of Dog He Thought He Was,  Anyway. Jimmy Jocks Was

Chained Just Behind Me,  And He Said He Never See So Fine A Show.

"That's A Hot Class You're In,  My Lad," He Says,  Looking Over Into My

Street,  Where There Were Thirty Bull-Terriers. They Was All As White

As Cream,  And Each So Beautiful That If I Could Have Broke My Chain,

I Would Have Run All The Way Home And Hid Myself Under The Horse-

Trough.

All Night Long They Talked And Sang,  And Passed Greetings With Old

Pals,  And The Home-Sick Puppies Howled Dismal. Them That Couldn't

Sleep Wouldn't Let No Others Sleep,  And All The Electric Lights

Burned In The Roof,  And In My Eyes. I Could Hear Jimmy Jocks Snoring

Peaceful,  But I Could Only Doze By Jerks,  And When I Dozed I Dreamed

Horrible. All The Dogs In The Hall Seemed Coming At Me For Daring To

Intrude,  With Their Jaws Red And Open,  And Their Eyes Blazing Like

The Lights In The Roof. "You're A Street-Dog! Get Out,  You Street-

Dog!" They Yells. And As They Drives Me Out,  The Pipe-Clay Drops Off

Me,  And They Laugh And Shriek; And When I Looks Down I See That I

Have Turned Into A Black-And-Tan.

They Was Most Awful Dreams,  And Next Morning,  When Miss Dorothy Comes

And Gives Me Water In A Pan,  I Begs And Begs Her To Take Me Home,  But

She Can't Understand. "How Well Kid Is!" She Says. And When I Jumps

Into The Master's Arms,  And Pulls To Break My Chain,  He Says,  "If He

Knew All As He Had Against Him,  Miss,  He Wouldn't Be So Gay." And

From A Book They Reads Out The Names Of The Beautiful High-Bred

Terriers Which I Have Got To Meet. And I Can't Make 'Em Understand

That I Only Want To Run Away,  And Hide Myself Where No One Will See

Me.

Then Suddenly Men Comes Hurrying Down Our Street And Begins To Brush

The Beautiful Bull-Terriers,  And Nolan Rubs Me With A Towel So

Excited That His Hands Trembles Awful,  And Miss Dorothy Tweaks My

Ears Between Her Gloves,  So That The Blood Runs To 'Em,  And They Turn

Pink And Stand Up Straight And Sharp.

"Now,  Then,  Nolan," Says She,  Her Voice Shaking Just Like His

Fingers,  "Keep His Head Up--And Never Let The Judge Lose Sight Of

Him."