Bashan and I by Thomas Mann (best black authors .TXT) 📕

them, his four feet close together, his back arched. He was trembling. It is possible that he was trembling out of fear, but one had the impression that it was due to a lack of flesh and fat. For the little apparition before us was a mere skeleton, a chest with a spinal column covered with rough hair and supported on four sticks. He had drawn back his ears, a muscular manoeuvre which, of course, immediately extinguishes every gleam of intelligent cheerfulness in a dog’s physiognomy. This effect in his still so childish face was so extreme that it expressed nothing but stupidity and misery as well as an insistent plea for consideration. There was also the fact to consider that the appendage which one might now call his goatee was at that time still more developed in relation to the rest of his face, something which gave to the aggregate woebegoneness of his appearance a trace of sour hypochondria.

We all bent down to address comforting and coaxing words to this picture of misery. Anastasia, from her post in front of the stove, mingled her remarks with the rapturous and pitying exclamations of the children, and retailed information as to the personality of her boarder. His name, she declared in her pleasant and even voice, was, for the time being, Lux. He was the son of most respectable parents. She was personally acquainted with his mother, and as for his father she had heard nothing but good of him. Lux was born on a farm at Huglfing, and it was only owing to special circumstances that his owners were willing to sell him so cheaply. For that reason they had brought him to the tavern⁠—in view of the lively traffic there. They had come in a small wagon and Lux had gallantly trotted the whole twenty kilometres, between the hind wheels. She had at once thought of us, for she knew we were looking for a good dog, and she felt quite certain that we could not help taking him. If we could decide upon taking him at once, it would be a fine thing all round. She was sure that we would have great joy of him, and as for him, he would no longer be alone in the world, but have a cosy berth, and she, Anastasia, would cease to worry about him. We ought, however, not to be prejudiced against him because of the faces he was now making. He was a bit cowed at present and not sure of himself, because of the strange surroundings. But we would soon see that he had a fine pedigree, that his parents were excellent stock.

Yes, we objected, but it was clear⁠—was it not⁠—that these parents of his had not been well matched?

Oh, yes, they had, and both of them were a fine breed, too! She, Anastasia, would guarantee that his points were all good. He was also unspoiled and very moderate in his demands⁠—something which was worth a good deal in such lean times as these. Up to the present he had supported himself entirely on potato-skins. She suggested that we take him home first, on probation, as it were. We were under no obligation at all. In case we did not like him she would take him back and return the small sum we had paid. She was not afraid to say this⁠—not afraid that we might take her at her word. For knowing us as she did, and knowing him, too⁠—both parties to the bargain⁠—she was convinced that we should learn to love him and never think of ever giving him up again.

She said a good deal more in this vein⁠—quietly, glowingly, and amiably⁠—the while she negotiated things on the stove, with the flames at times shooting up magically in front of her. And finally she came herself and with both hands opened Lux’s mouth in order to show us his fine teeth and for some mysterious reason also the rosy and riffled roof of his mouth.

Upon our asking, with professional air, whether he had already had the mange, she replied with a slight show of impatience, that she did not know. And as to his size when he had finally stopped growing?⁠—well, she declared with a smart promptness, this would be exactly that of our deceased Percy. There was a good deal more of talk to and fro, a good deal of warmhearted encouragement on the part of Anastasia, reinforced by pleas from the children, and a good deal of half-conquered irresolution on our part. We finally begged leave to be permitted to consider the matter for a short time, and this was graciously granted us. And so we descended to the valley, thoughtfully rehearsing and ruminating upon our impressions.

That bit of four-legged misery under the table had naturally captured the hearts of the children, and we grownups attempted in vain to smile away their lack of taste and judgment. We, too, felt a tugging at our hearts and realised all too clearly that we should be hard put to it to banish the vision of the unfortunate Lux from our memories. What was to become of him?⁠—if we turned away in contumely? Into whose⁠—into what hands would he fall? A terrible and mysterious figure arose in our fantasies: the knacker in his flaying-house, from whose loathsome attentions we had once saved Percy by means of a few chivalrous bullets from the rifle of a gamekeeper and the honourable burial-place we had given him at the edge of our garden. If we were minded to leave Lux to an unknown and possibly ghastly fate we should not have been so careless as to make his acquaintance, and to look upon his childish face with the goatee. But now that we were aware of his existence, a responsibility seemed laid upon us which we could dispute only with difficulty and with forced, halfhearted denials.

Thus it came about that the third day following saw us once more climbing