The national era. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1847-1860, 1860-02-16
RAB AND HIS FRIENDS.
By JOHN BROWN, NJ. D.

Four-and thirty years ago, Bob Ainslie and
I were coming up Infrmary street from the
High School, our heads together, and our arms
intertwisted, as only lovers and boys know how
or why.
When we got to the top of the street, and
turned north, we esped a crowd at the Iron
Church. "a dog fghti" shouted Bob, and was
off; and so was i, both of US all but praying
that it might not be over before We got upl
And is not this boy nature and human nature
too and don't we all wish house on fire not
to be out before we see it? Dogs like fighting
old Isaac says they delight" in it, and for the
best of all reasons; and boys not cruel be-
cause they like to see the fight. They see three
of the great cardinal virtues of dog or man
courage, endurance, and skill-in intense &C.
ton. This is very different from love of ma
king dogs fight, and enjoying. and aggrayatiDg,
and making gain, by their pluck. boy-be
he ever so fond himself of 6ghting-if he be a
good boy, hates and despises all this, but he
would have run off with Bob and me fast
enough; it is a natural, and net wicked in
terest, that all boys and men have in witness
ing intense energy in action.
| Does any curious and fnely-ignorant woman
wish to know how Bob's eye ut glance an
nounced dog fight to his brain? He did not,
he could not see the dogs fighting II was a
fash of an inference, a rapid induction. The
crowd round couple of dogs fighting is
crowd masculine mainly, with an occasional
active, compassionate woman, futtering wildly
round the outside, and using her tongue and
her hands freely upon the men, as so many
brutes !" it is a crowd annular, compact, and
mobile; crowd centripetal, having its eyes
and its heads all bent downwards and inwards,
to one common focus.
Well, Bob and I are up, and find it is not
over small thoroughbred, white bull terrier,
is busy throttling large shepherds dog, unac
customed to war, but not to be trihed with.
They are hard at it, the scientific little fellow
doing bis work in great style, his pastoral enc
my fighting wildly, but with the sharpest of
teeth and a great courage. Science and breed
| ing however, soon had their own the Game
Chicken, as the premature Bob called him,
working his way up, took his final grip of
poor Yarrow's throat, and he lay gasping and
done for. His master, brown, handsome, big
young shepherd from Tweedsmuir, would have
liked to have knocked down any man, would
drink up Esl, or eat a crocodile" for that
| part, if he had a chance it was no use kick
ing the little dog; that would only make him
hold the closer. Many were the means shouted
out in mouthfuls, of the best possible ways Of
ending it. "Water" but there was none near,
and many cried for it who might have got it
from the well at Blackfriars Wynd. "Bite the
tail !" and large, vague, benevolent middle
aged man, more DESTROYS than wise, with some
struggle got the bushy end of Harroc's tail into
his ample mouth, and bit it with all his might.
This was more than enough for the much-en-
during, much perspiring shepherd, who, with
CLEAN ofjoy over his broad visage, delivered
terrific facer upon our large, vague, benevolent,
middleaged friend, who went down like shot.
Still the Chicken holds; death not far off.
"Snuffl a pinch of snuff observed . calm,
highly dressed young buck, with an eye-glass
in his eye. "Snuff, indeed! growled the an
cry crowd, affronted and glaring. Snuff! a
pinch of snuff" again observes the buck, but
with more urgency; whereupon were produced
several open boxes, and from null which may
have been at Culloden, he took pinch, kneit
down, and presented it 10 the nose Of the
Chicken. The laws of physiology and of snuff
take their course the Chicken sneezes, and
Yarrow is free. sa 1a 81
The young pastoral giant stalks of, with
Yarrow in his arms, comforting him.
But the bull terriers blood is up, and his
soul unsatisfed; he grips the FIRST dog he
meets, and discovering she is not dog, in
Homeric phrase, he makes brief sort of
amende, aud is of. The boys, with Bob and
me at their head, are after him & down Niddry
street he goes, bent on mischief; up the
Coweate, like an arrow-Bob and /, and our
small men, painting behind. e H'ts
There, under the single arch of the South
Bridge, Is huge mastiff, sauntering down the
middle of the csuseway, as if with his hands in
his pockets; he is old, gray, brindled, as big as
a little Highland bull, and has the Shaksperian
dewlaps shaking as be goes. -
The Chicken makes straight at him, and
fastens ON his throat To our astonishment,
the great creature does nothing bat stand still,
hold himself up, and rosr--yes, roar long,
serious, remosstrative roar How is this? Bob
and are mp to them. He - sssszsed The
battles had proclaimed = general m9azhng, and
his master, studying strength and economy
mainly, had encompassed his huge Jaws "
home made apparatus, Constructed out OF the
leather Of soms sacient bvsscbss. His mouth
was open as far as it could alps curled up in