THAT DOG.

Lake Wakatip Mail, Issue 1583, 1 April 1887, Page 4

THAT DOG.

At the time the dog was in the heyday of his fame, I lived in a modest house across the street from the dog's kennel. This street was one of the avenues which <*-oes the main thoroughfares, and the traffic over it, especially at night-time, was comparatively limited. It, therefore, was not so brilliantly lighted as some ether portions of the city. It was shaded, : and from the corner down to the house where I lived the footpath was lined by a row of trees. Directly in front of the house was a lamp-post. Early ' one morning as I was returning home from the newspaper office where I was I employed, and bad almost reached the ' house, I heard a deep bass growl from the centre of the road. Then the gravel was suddenly and violently scratched, and I heard rapid foot-steps such as an infuriated dog would make if it were in a hurry. Men think quickly in emergencies like this, and before the dog reached me I was perched on the top of a tree. The animal came up against the tree with a crash, and, amid sundry hoarse growls, began gnawing the baik eff it. It was Oldcomer's dog, I knew. I also knew it would be useless to try and defy him by any show of resistance, so I talked to him. I c raised his rare intelligence. I praised his matchless figure. I extolled bis massive legs and ponderous lower jaw. I then made an effort to descend, but the dog was there before me, and I sadly returned to my per eh. Then I tried another plan. I appealed to the animal's reason. 1 told him how the Colonel, his excellent proprietor, and I were intimate friends, and explained to bim how vexed he would be if he only knew how unpleasantly narrow my seat was on the top of the tree. This seemed to affect the dog, for he kept quiet, and I managed to reach the lewer round of the tree in safety; but at that point he exhibited such emotion, tbat I concluded to return.

Again 1 tried eloquence. I became feceticus, and interlarded my remarks with merry laughter. I spoke of bis legs, and asked him if be didn't want to rent them to a piano manufacturer. I liked bim wbo bis dentist waa, and intimated that I wanted my own teeth attended to. I suggested to him that he could hire out bis voice to an opera company if he didn't need all of it for his own use. During this sally of wit and humour the dog remained placid, but when I made an effort to descend, he seemed to feel so badly about it that X decided to go bach again.

Then I determined to touch his heart if I could. I alluded to the number of times I had mentioned him in the paper, and told him of the innumerable! instances of praise I had bestowed upon him out of range of his hearing. I informed him that I had gained the epithet of "the dog reporter," from the pertinacity with which I had sung his praises, and then asked him if such friendship did not merit some return. This argument seemed to more the animal, for be wandered away from the tree, and went away under the gas lamp to consider the matter. This decided me and I boldly descended from the tree, went over to where the beast was, and deliberately kicked him over a large portion of the street, after which I went into the house and retired. The dog was a little, long-haired, big-mouthed, mongrel cur, belonging to a retired photographer. It was two feet long, about three feet of which were lungs.