The Bossier banner. [volume] (Bellevue, Bossier Parish, La.) 1859-1952, 1877-12-13

lie mlSDG tlHIlh q uOS WdutSu "A oPoio'
ton, but hewould never think heWant-
ed bone. Well, all the same, the
Dalmatian aderes him. He is a savage
brute; he will bite any body else, includ-,
! ing his master, but from Beach he. will
| take any sort of inaltreatnlent. Pefhapsi
| the most curious thing about the case is
that he keeps some account ottime, and
knows the days of the week and the
hours Z Of 1.-THE day. This is~ Very
extraordinary, of course, but 1t
| is absolutely certain. Beach, you must
understand, lives out of town, and
only comes in twice week to attend to
his duties there, once on Wednesday, at
10 in the morning, and once on Satur-
day, at 8 in the afternoon. Well, his
old patient never fails to meet HIM on
the right day and at the correct time,
just as accurately as though all Dalma-
tians were born with chronometers In
their mouths. He never mistakes one
day for another, and<4neyer. goes ON.
either day at the, wrong hour. AS Beach
drives in, the dog meets him littleway
out, follows him through his round, sits
or stands by him, watches him devoted
| ly, attends him homeward certain dis
| lance, and then leaves him. Nobody
can call him off, not even his master.
By the way, if Beach comes to town by
some unusual road, and so misses the
dog, the latter Immediately sets up
persistent search for him, going in sue
cession to every one of his haunts, and
among them TO my quarters. How he
has learned that Beach and have some
relation to each other, l don't know;
but he has learned it perfectly, and is
Just as mindful of it as either OF us.
Once I undertook, just for the curiosity
of the thing, to detain him in my office.
| | put my arms around him and held ON
with all my strength. The result was
that, after violent tussle, found my
self on the floor, and the big brutewas
off like lightning after his dear Beach.
Any body else would have been badly
bitten. He only spared me out of con-
sideration for my obvious relations and
my supposed intimacy with his benefac-
tor. Now, the beasts gratitude is per-
haps nothing remarkable; great many
dogs show affection and remembrance
of kindness But how upon earth does
that Dalmatian know the day of the
week and the time of day.
THE MERCHANTS STORY. s
Yes, it was rather curious start
had in business The first thing I did,
after having saved little pile of mon
ey, waste set up a shanty in Sioux City.
had all sorts Of traps to allure Indians,
and wanted to buy any kind Of 4pel-
tries, scalps excepted. But Twas new
arrival, and tia noble red man couldn't
tbeievgfp me without help. and l found
trade rather dull. Late one night, how
ever, as Twas sleeping among my Stock
there came a tremendous banging at my
door; and when I unbarred it there was
tall Fellow who seemed to me a little
drunk; and said he, 81 want a butcher
knife. y v
"All right. Come in,'' said =
&c want a reliable one,n- says he. ~
want it to kill a,man with. Give me a
good strong handle / want a knife that
| I can put in and turn it round"
Says I, II think / can suit you. Walk
| in and take a look.' "a g. a$fTg
I knew him by that time. He was a
Virginian, a splendid-looking fellow,
and belongedto good family, as | un-
derstocd., But he had gone wild on the
frontier, and, had been forced to- herd
with the Indians. The consequence was
that he spoke their language and was a
person of influence among them. Well,
I felt little doubtful about his inten-
tons, not knowing but what was the
man he was after; but all the same, |
got out my stock of tools and showed
them. There was one, nearly two feet
long, which I had bought for cheese
knife. Says I, 81 think that would an
swer your purpose.
Yes, should think it might,n says
he. s'How much is it?''
told him the price-about four
shillings, think.
"I'll take it, says he. "But have
not any money!
Under the circumstances, seeing he
had the knife in his fist and was ready
to turn it around, l thought had bet
ter trust him.
You'd better not,' says he, ssYou-
don't know me from any other gentle
man,
"But I've got to trust you,' says I.
" You've got the butcher-knife by the
handle, and I'm at the sharp end of it.
Besides, | believe I can trust YOU"
Off he went, and heard no more of
him for a time, not even whether he
had killed man. But some weeks
later he put in an appearance and paid
for the knife.
"And now, youngster," says he, 81
like the way you treated me when l
reused you out for that trade. You
didn't show the white feather. Some
men, hustled up at that time of night,
would have been scared. But you.be