The Bolivar bulletin. [volume] (Bolivar, Hardeman County, Tenn.) 1865-1888, 1881-11-17
Cold Day for Dogs.

Old Mr.. Thistlepod came in from
Flint river, and climed up the long
stairs to the sanctum, emptied a chair
load Of exchanges on to the floor, and
sat down.
"Say," the old man said, chewing
his morsel Of navy plug with the rapid
intOnatiOn of man who was iii ear
nest. "Say, you know that spotted
coach dog of mine that bit his leg with
a rattlesnake nigh onto three weeks
ago?"
eyes, the editor said he remembered
it. "Dog dead p
'cDeadl" said the old man, ''no; live
as you are, and all right, only he's try
ing to coil himself up all the time,
and has eleven rattles grown out on
the end of his tail Has, for a gospel
fact Nights, when he runs around
the house, sounds like drum corps
gOin' by. l declare to goodness ] wish
I'd brung him in to let you see him."
eyes, the editor wished he had.
''Nero, the dogs name is" the old
man said, gazing earnestly at the edi-
tors face. "NerO, is six years old this
spring. Raised him myself; Flint
River dog, you've seen him hundreds
of times under my wagon"
tC, TIE t0iliOE lIlOu0ilB lie ndtl seen
him before he grew rattles.
eyes" the old man said with a con-
firmatOry sigh. Then he added, ''YOu
know that shaggy, rOugh-haired Scotch
terrier of Ben. Martins? Well sir,
Ben, he sent to Philadelphia and got
a couple dozen silkworms and fed 'em
to the dog, an'-yer hain't seen the
terrier since last Saturday, have we 2"
No, the editor hadn't seen the dog,
nor Martin himself, since April.
"Well, sir, hope l may die some
time, if that dogs hair hain't come out
the sOftest, finest silk fringe We ever
saw in your life! Silk fringe, with a
braid two inches deep along his back,
an ball Of chenille hanging from the
end Of each ear. Ben's goin' to buy
up a couple o hundred cheap, long
haired dogs, feed 'em silkworms and
sheer 'em every spring"
The editor thought there would be
money iii it.
''Bettern'n a gold mine," the old
man said, ''an' do you know, while ne
was feedin' of him, Ben forgot to take
off the dogs collar, big leather col
lar?7
"And what happened to the collar?"
the editor asked a little wearily.
"Velvet," said the old man enthusi-
asticalIy. 'Lyons velvet with a Gel
luloid buckle. You remember the
dog, don't We! Used TO come to town
with Ben regularly three or four times
a month. l declare, 1 wisht I'd asst
Ben to let me bring him iii to show
you this morning. Ben was too busy
to come in himself. 'SnarIy,' Ben
calls him. Flint River dog bred and
- L. > r
The editor thought he would like to
see the dog some time, when Ben had
time to bring him in. And he plung-
cd his pen into the ink two or three
times, as though he would write some
thing.
Eyes, 'sthe old man sighed again,
and once more Frightening up, he re-
resumed: 81 say" he exclaimed,
you remember that long legged,
ornary-lOokin' meat hound Of Dick
Rogers, don't We, that killed Lem
Crandal's sheep last February -
The editor expressed a faint, a very
fair recollection Of Dick Rogers dog,
and Mr.. ThistlepOd went on
''Weli, the boys had little target
shoot over TO Mary StriHger'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 am eat up mOre'n twenty cart
ridges On my life, if he didn't
Make him sick ? Not a hair Of him;
he just frisked around and seemed to
feel better for it. Well, sir, about IL
o'clock that night he went ofTp'i
'ENOp exclaimed the editor, with
more interest than he had yet dis
played. ''By Georgel Did he make
a big noise Z Did he, teough? ? Hurt |
anybody p
".NO," the old man said, rising 10 |
90, "reckon not he just went off with /
Bill Hockenbury, that comes 10
see Rogers big red-haired girl. lie /
come back next mornin'."
And the editor returned to his bus !
mess on the speakers table, while the /
heavy tread Of the honest old farmer /
faded away down the distant stairs, /
amid the heartless, mOcking laughter 1
OF the younger staff. - burlington /
HalCkeye.