The Bossier banner. [volume] (Bellevue, Bossier Parish, La.) 1859-1952, 1889-04-25

| cleveland, who sent him to me, said
that he was a magnificent hunting dog.
admit that / don't recognize the
strain, but I'm sure he would not have
told me what was not true. The poor
animal is no doubt nervous and high
strung, and has been excited by travel.
He'll be all right when he's soothed
and calmed down. Poor doggy, poor
doggy"
The poor doggy" Just missed by an
inch seizing the friendly hand out
stretched to pat him, and howled with
disappointed rage.
In vain Collins offered one, two.
three and four dollars to any of the
men present who would lead the dog
to his house and tie him to the kennel
in the back yard already prepared for
his reception, but at five dollars one of
them took the job. The fellow who
did SO went off somewhere and pro-
cured pole with a thing like big
corlSscrew in the end of it. Twisting
that screw into the ring in the dogs
collar, he pinned the brute to the floor
until the rope was cast off from the
big safe to which it had been tied, and
then steered him out into the street,
and to his destination, by main
strength, holding him away from talk
ing samples from every body in sight.
At the kennel he again pinned poor
doggy" down until Collins made the
rope fast. Then, standing we'll be-
yond reach. he unscrewed his pole
from the collar, and said tersely:
There's your dog" and having re-
ceived his five dollars, went away. Mr..
Collins returned to the editorial room
and resumed his work.
In about an hour painting, perspir
ing, red-faced and bare-headed servant
girl rushed in, and, as soon as she
could get breath enough to speak, re-
ported:
"Oh, Mr. Collins! You've got to
come down to the house right away!
That dog has bit off the rope and got
loose, and he's took the house. Mrs.
Collins and the children are treed in a
room upstairs. l got into the parlor
just in time to save my life. and had to
jump out of a window to come here. y
Mr.. Collins went home in haste. On
the way he procured dog-chain and a
big club. He wasn't a big man, but
when he was mad he had as much
nerve as the dog. He was mad now,
and he had the club. The engage
ment between them was opened the in
stant that he entered the front door,
and only ended when the infuriated
beast had been knocked senseless,
pounded almost to jelly, and chained
to the kennel. Then Collins put on
another suit of clothes-those worn
during the proceedings with the dog
having been reduced to rags-and
/, went back to his writing, though not
in that calm and philosophic frame OF
mind suited to literary labor.
Half an hour later the servant girl
came back. The dog, seeing Mrs. Col
Inns at one of the back windows, had
broken his chain and again taken pos
} session of the house. When the girl
left the scene of action the children
were presumably safe in the street. and
Mrs. Collins was standing on the piano
in the parlor beating the dog off with &
club as he sprang up to seize her.
That time Collins carried back to the
i house another club and chain bic
} enough to hold an OK. When he got
through reasoning with his hunting
dog and had him fastened up again
with the new chain, he was in some
: doubt whether the animal would live
until the next morning. Mrs. Collins
laid down her platform:
''If he doesn't die of the beating you
have given him and you don't get rid
of him tomorrow, | shall take the
children and go home to fathers
That suggested a happy thought tc
/ Mr.. Collins. He still clung to the ides
that the nervous, high-strung dog
J had been worried by the excitement O.
travel until he was almost crazy
''and," said be, Shields, down al
Sewickley, is the very place to restore
him to a normal condition. The peace
and quiet of the farm and the eompan
, ionship of Mr.. Shields dogs will sootht
and calm his perturbed spirit. "
So, the next morning, the dog hav
) ing survived the pounding, and, indeed
+ seeming none the worse for it, he tool
, the beast down to Sewickley. In doing
| so he felt encouraged by seeing tina
. the animals ferocity was already mucl
abated. He did not recognize the fac
/ that it was sheer terror of him tina
} kept the fiend in subsection, and no
. any true change of heart.
( Mr.. Shields was retired lawyer, o
t cultivated literary taste and larg,
5 wealth, who had left the turmoil of /
/ busy life to spend the autumn of hi
5 days in the tranquil monotony of farm
: ing. Outside of his library only TIVE
: things possessed much interest foi
( him: one, the raising of fine sheep; tn,
t other, his annual hunting excursions
D He viewed Collins hunting dog witt