The Portland daily press. [volume] (Portland, Me.) 1862-1921, 1881-07-21
burlington Hagkeye.l
A Cold Day for Dogs,


Old Nj. Thistlepod came in in from Flint
River yesterday, and climbed up a long stair.
case to the sanctum, emptied a chair load of
exchanges on the floor, and sat down.
"Say," said the old man, chewing his morsel
of navy plug with the rapid intonation of a
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 remembered it, Dog
dead?
"Dead!' said the old man, emo; live as YOU
are and all right, only he's tryin to coil him
self up all the time, and has eleven rattles,
growed out on the epd of his tail. Has. for q
gospel fact. Nigkts, when he runs around the
declare to goodness wished I'd brung him
in to let you see him."
Yes, the editor wished he had.
'Nero the dogs name isl the old man said,
gazing earnestly at the editors face. "Nero,
six years old this spring. Raised him myself;
Flint River dog; you We seen him hundreds of
times under my wagon"
Yes, the editor thought he had seen him, be-
fore he grew his rattles.
"Yes," the old man said, with confrma-
tory sigh. Then he added, "You know tn at
shaggy, rough-haired Scotch terrier of Ben
Martins? Well, sir, Ben he sent to Philadel-
ply and got a couple O. dozen silk worms, and
fed 'em to the dog, an'-ye haint seen the ter
rier since Saturday, have ye?"
No, the editor hadn't seen the dog nor Mar
tin himself since April.
"Well, sir, l hope may die some time, if
that dogs hair haint come out the softest, fin
est silk fringe, with q braid two inches deep
along his back, an a ball of chenille hangin'
from the end of each ear. Ben's goin' to buy
upa couple O. hundred cheap, long haired
oogs feed 'em silkworms and shear them every
spGng."
The editor thought there would be money in
"Bettern a gold mine," the old man said,
IAN do you know that while he was feedn'
OF him, Ben forgot to take off the dogs big
| leather collar.
"AAd what happened to the collar?" the ed
tor ASKED somewhat wearily.
velvet, " said the old man enthusiastically
Lyons velvet, with a celluloid buckle. You
remember the dog, don't ye? Used to come to
town with Ben regular three or four times a
month. l declare. I wisht I'd asst Ben to let
me bring him in TO show you this morning.
Ben was too busy to come IN himself. 'Snarly,
Ben calls him. Flint River dog; bred and
raised right here on Ben's farm
The editor thought he would like to see TIE
dog some time, when Ben had tims to bring
him in. And he plunged his pen into the ink
two or three times, as though he woula write
something
eye =" the old man sighed again. And
once iaore frightening up he resumed, 81
| say" h9 exclaimed, "you remember that long
legge' ornary looking meat hound Of Dick
Roger } don't ye, that killed Lem Crandall':
sheep st February
The editor expressed a faint, a very faint
recollection of Dick Rodgers's dog, and Mr.
Thistlepod went on
"Well, the boys had little target shoo
over to Mary Stringers place on the Fourth OF
July, and while they was shootin', if tina
blamed, hungry starvelin of dog didn't get a
the box and eat up more'n twenty cartridges
On my life if he didn't! Make him sick? No
a hair of him; he just frisked around ant
seemed to feel better for it. Well sir. abou
seven o'clock that night the dog went OFF,
"No?" exclaimed the editor, with more in
terest than he had yet displayed. "By George
Did he make big noise? Did he, though
Hurt anybody"
mo-" the old man said, rising to go; "reck
on not he Just went off with Bill Hocken
bury, that comes to see Rogerss big red
haired girl He come back next mornin'."
And the editor returned to the business OF
the Speakers table, while the heavy tread o
the honest old agriculturist faded away dowI
the distant stairs amid the heartless, mockin!
laughter of the younger men on the staff.