THE SHIP'S DOG.

Press, Volume LII, Issue 15768, 8 December 1916, Page 3

THE SHIP'S DOG.

■'A BUM MY LITTLE BECrGAF

Writers who praise'very justly tnc crews, of those thou.»and> ol ..steam trawlers and drifters which ore nov auxiliary to tho British Navy have generally ignored an indispensable oi each vessel's complement—the ship s do?,. This neglect (siys ;i writer in

"Tho Times") may Ik 1 due io a predis- t position of landsmen. who are accus- | tomed to look upon the do™ as a noble t animal; and there is nothing noble t about the ship's dog—externally, at- all events. Appearances are against linn, t So far from his bein r : a he • is, liko Launce's dog Crab 111 the "Two Gentlemen of Verona," outside the pale ; of canine culture. In short, he is "an . unmitigated bounder.' 1 i l nd the worst < of it, is iha.t. he knows it and rejoices i in iL. "Cheek'' is stamped upon his - visage. To him there i.s not so v«t much difference between a kick and a • kind word. Both are in the ordinary day's routine. The kick divert? his i attentions momentarily 10 someone . else.; tho kind word increases his pre- 1 sumDtion beyond human endurance. NatEing in tho world would make him order himself lowly and reverently to- 1 wards his superiors. Your sailor dog Crab 1? always a mongrel, partly because seafaring men love plain things and partly because he has strong ''in'ards"' and is neve*-, never sick at sea.. When Irs ship '3 returning to port he is the first to sight, or rather, to sniff, the land. He is on the-' look-out in the bow among the ropes and chains, whose running coils he has learnt dexterously to evade. His nostrils dilate joyously .at each whiff of stale fifeli from tho quay and he raises aloft in tho breeze a tail which in its day has obviously taken many strange craft in tow. His ears are cropped and his faeo is blotchy. If Nature has manifestlv intended him to be whito tho Devil takes a, tar-brush and puts an appropriate bar sinister across his left eye. On the other hand, if his parents had yearned for a jet-black chip of the old block, by a similar infernal intervention ho ■ will have tawny eyebrows, a soiled shirtfront, and one white sock. His caricature of a face is what naturalists call "protective," for if you thrash him casually to case, your temper you laugh and pat him instantly because "he's . such a rummy litt-lo beggar. - ' The rope's end and he are old acquaintances, but castigation and execration are easy enough for him to bear so' long as 110 knows at the back of his. mind that there, is a tousle-headed, grimy-faced, greasy-fingered '/son of a cook" in the galley, and that the mate himself has a. .soft, spot in his hard heart somewhere—as witness , the ridiculous little cork jacket and the miniature lifebuoy that hang besido Crab's bunk near a steam-pipe. Crab never grumbles, and he is seldom out of health. When, he is lie chews oakum as a. substitute for grass, and thus regains an appetite which would flabbergast the Kennel Club. He. will gnaw a crust that has voyaged half-round the world; he will heave in a yard of untearablo gristle as if lie had a, windlass in his stomach; or, crunch a dozen or two of the ship's cockroaches as though they were so many cracknels. He seldom sets foot on shore except when he is invited to follow tho captain to the Blue Anchor of an evening. There, lying amid sawdust and spittoons, he growls intermittent approval of his tnaster's opinions. Apart from a display of the rough-and-ready chivalry of the sea when he falls in : with some canine belle of the. town. he. holds ho acquaintance with his tribe ashore.- His contempt; is. undisguised for-- those landlubberwhelps who slink butchers'' shops or.play the Just novy' r Jip is beginning to 'loso his ; tenipcr with dog ifihirkerfi, for ho is convinced that h<j..is ."doing his'bi't" ou tho high seas; -and his whiskers have tho wry and salt lpolc of a fellow who has.chiviod U boats through the North Sea spume. Clearly, by his countenance, he . has resolved ■ never to be taken prisoner. Should his ship go down in action he will be found—no doubt with his little cork 'jacket on— bidding defiance to • tho Hun with a dying bark which hasn't'got an "h" in it. Crab may bo "an unmitigated bounder" and "a rummy little beggar," but he has a truo British heart all tho same, and—as iio would say with his inimitable wink—"Don't You forget it'l" .