Daily Los Angeles herald., 1881-07-23
A Cold Day for Dogs.
burlington Hawkeye.I

Old Mr.. Thistlepod came in from
Flint river yesterday and climbed
up the long stairs to our sanctum,
smptied chair load of exchanges
on the floor and sat down.
"Say," said the old man, chew
ing his morsel of navy plug with
the rapid intonation of q man who
was in earnest. "Say, you know
that spotted coach dog Of mine that
bit his leg with rattlesnake nigh
onto three week ago?'
Yes, the editor said, he remem.
bered it. Dog dead?
"Dead?" said the old man. "No!
live as you are, and all right, only
he's tryin' to coil himself up all the
time, and has leven rattles growed
out on the end of his tail. Has, for
gospel fact! Nights, when he
runs around the house, sounds like
u drum corps goin' by. 1 declare
to goodness [ wished I'd prung
him in to let you see him."
Yes, the editor wished he had.
"Nero, the dogs name is," said
the old man, gazing earnestly at
the editors face. "Nero; six years
old this spring; raised him myself;
you've seen him hundreds of times
under my wagon"
Yes, the editor thought he had
seen him, before he grew his rat
ties.
"Yes,n the old man said, with a
confirmatory sigh. Then he added,
fIVntr that al h.
haired Scotch terrier of Ben Mar
tins? Well, sir, Ben he sent to
PhiladelPhy and got couple o.
dozen silk worms and fed 'em to
the dOg,---ye haint seen the ter.
rier since last Saturday, have YEP"
No, the editor hadn't seen the
dog nor Martin himself since
April.
"Well, sir, L hope 1 may. die
sometime, if that dogs hair hain't
come out the softest, finest silk
fringe ye ever saw in your life!
Silk fringe, with a braid two inches
deep. along his back an q ball of
chenille hangin' from the end of
each ear. Ben's gein' to buy up a
couple o. hundred cheap long-hair-
ed dogs, feed 'em silk worms and
shear 'em every spring."
The editor thought there would
be money in it.
"Better' n gold mine," the old
man said; can do you know, while
he was feedin' of him, Ben forgot 10
take off the dogs collar, big leather
collar"
2 "And what happened to the COL
lar?" the editor asked, little
wearily.
"Velvet," said the old man en-
Enthusiastically, "Lyops velvet, with
cellul0id buckle. You remember
the dog, don't ye? Used to come
to town with Ben regular three or
four times month. declare, 1
wish't I'd asst Ben to let me bring
him in to show you this morning.
Ben was too busy to come in him
self. 'Snarly,' Ben calls him.
Flint river dog; bred an raised
right on Ben's farm.n
The editor thought he would like
to see the dog some time, when
Ben had time TO bring him in. And
he plunged his pen into the In k
two or three times, as though he
would write something.
"Yes," the old man sighed again.
And once more Frightening up he
resumed: "I say" he exclaimed, i,
you remember that long legged,
onary lookin' meat hound of Dick
Rogers's, don't ye, that killed Lem
Crandall's sheep last February ?"
The editor expressed a faint, q
very faint recollection of Dick
Rogers's dog, and Mr.. Thistlepod
went on:
"Weli, the boys had little tar
get shoot over to Mosey Stringer's
place on the Fourth OF July, and
while they was shootin', If that
blamed. hungry, starvelin' of a
dog didn't get at the box and eat
up moren' twenty cartridges! On
my life, if he didn't Make him
sick? Not a hair on him; he just
frisksd around an seemed to feel
better for 1t. Well, about IL O'Clock
that night the dog went offW
"NoW exclaimed the editor with
more interest than he had az yet
displayed. "By George! Did he
make a big noise? Did he though?
Hurt anybodyP"
"No," said the old mau rising to
GO. "reckon not; he just went of
with Bill Hockenbury that come
to see Rogers's big red-haired girl.
He come back next mornin'."
And the editor turned to the bus
iness on the speakers table, while
the heavy tread of the honest old
agriculturist faded away down the
distant stairs amid the heartless,
mocking laughter of the younger