The Bolivar bulletin. [volume] (Bolivar, Hardeman County, Tenn.) 1865-1888, 1881-11-24
Cold Day fer Dogs.

A Cold Day for Dogs.
Old Mr.. Thistlepod came in from
Flint river, aud 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
information Of man who was in ear
nest. ''Say, you know that spotted
coach dog Of mine that bit his leg with
rattlesuake nigh onto three weeks
ago?'
it, Dog dead ?"
Dead - said the old man, ''no live
as you are, and all right, only he's try
ing to coil himself up ali the time,
and has eleven rattles grown out OH
the end of his tail. Has, for a gospel
fact. Nights, when he runs around
the house, sounds like drum corps
goin' by. / declare to goodness l wish
I'd a Isrung him in to let you see him.
yes, the editor wished he had.
'.NcrO, 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"
Yes, the editor thought he had seen
him before he grew rattles.
eyes," the old man said with 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 ~
No, the editor hadn't seen the dog,
nor Martin himself, since April.
"Well, sir, l hope I may die some
| time, 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 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 siIkWorms and
sheer 'cm every spring"
The editor thought there would be
money in it.
.Bettern'n a gold mine," 4he old
man said, "an' do YOU know, while he
was feedin' of him, Ben forgot to take
off the dogs collar, big leather col
lar?"
''And what happened to the collar %
the editor asked a little YEARLY.
''Velvet," said the old man enthusi-
astically. 'Lyons velvet with eel
luloid buckle. You remember the
dog, don't We? Used to come to town
| with Ben regularly three or four times
a north. l declare, I Wisht I'd asst
Ben to let me bring him in TO show
you this morning. Ben was too busy
- I1,,,ca1f ECvat.Ivr1
calls him. Flint River dog; bred and
raised right here on Ben's farm"
The editor thought he would like tC
see the dog some time, when Ben had
time to bring him in. And he plung.
ed his pen into the ink two or three
times, as though heWOuld write some
thing.
yes" the old man sighed again
and once more Frightening up, he re
resumed: II saw" he exclaimed
you remember that long legged
ornary-lookin' meat hound of DicE
Rogers, don't We, that killed Len
Crandall's sheep last February"
The editor expressed a faint, a very
fair recollection of Dick Rogers dog
and Mr.. ThistlepOd went OH
"Well, the boys had a little large
shoot over to Mary Stringer's place
on the Fourth Of July, and while they
was shOotin', if that blamed, hungry
starvelin' of dog didn't get at the
box an eat up mOre'n twenty cart
ridges! On my life, if he didn't
Make him sick? Net d hair of him
he just frisked around and seemed t.
feel better for it. Well, sir, about L
o'clock that night he went OFF,
''NOw exclaimed the editor, witt
more interest than he had yet dis
: played. ''By George! Did he max
: a big noise? Did he, tough? Hur
| anybody p
[ NO" the old man said, rising q
: go, ''recl1on not he just went off witt
= Bill Hockenbury, that comes t.
see Rogers big red-haired girl. II
t come back next mOrnin'."
= And the editor returned to his bus
4 mess on the speakers table, while tn
3 heavy tread of the honest old farme
l faded away down the distant stair,
= amid the hcariless, hooking laughte
; of the younger staff. = BurLHgto
/ HdICheye.