The record-union., 1891-02-22
DOYNEg WONDERFUL Dogs.

Yes, it was plucky thing, certainly,
put can't help thinking that the motive
was not altogether an unmiXed one. You
see, Westminster Bridge is one of the
pest-known places in the world, and
when man jumps over its parapet to
save fellow-creature who is struggling
In the tideway below he is tolerably GER
tam to be well repaid for his exertion.
dls bravery is lauded in the next morn
Ing's papers; he gets the Royal Humane
Soclety's medal, and he is often hand
somely rewarded besides. There are
thousands Of good swimmers in London
who would avail themselves of similar
opportunity. You'd do it yourself
HIM, well, perhaps / should. But
you are taking rather a cold -blooded
view of the matter. There is some risk
'Of course there is risk replied Dr..
Wane, rather contemptuously. ''There
is the chance Of cramp, the chance of q
bad cold. There was possibility of the
train which brought you down here leav-
ing the track and crashing over an en-
bankment; but that does not make a
hero of you for coming to see me-"
"What are you driving at?''
''Simply this. That there is great deal
of rubbish talked about men making
merely encountering certain degree of
peril for their own self-advancement
Now, in my idea that kind of selfishness
can never be linked to true heroism.
For instance, l can see nothing heroic
about a jump from the clouds beneath a
parachute, when the only incentive is
money"
Il am afraid you will nearly always
find sordid motive of that kind at the
bottom II you only probe deep enough
"Generally, grant you. But there are
instances TO the contrary. A village
doctor does not often see much beyond
the general routine; but, / give you my
word for it, | did once come across a real
heroine. Now what do you say to an
hours ecarte, and then to bed?''
And DR.. Wayne lit his pipe and ap-
peared anxious to change the subject.
Tell me about your heroine first. Did
she pull some one out of the river here
and then run away without leaving her
name?'
Nothing so dramatic. I don't think
the story would interest you. Pass the
Matches"
little pressing he consented to tell it to
me.
Your train arrived he said, '.just after
the curtain had dropped, and the heroine
of the piece had gone off to take up an
engagement on another stage. Did you
VI,
painted house on wheels, as you walked
here from the station? 1t was in a field
on your right hand"
81 can't say that I did,
Very likely not. 1t would scarcely
catch your eye unless you had looked for
it. Yet it lay there all the same, an aged
looking concern, with .Doynes' Wonder
ful Dogs painted on the outside 1t is
one of the regular sort that go round to
the fairs and feasts in this neighborhood.
only perhaps a tritie inferior to most OF
them. 1t was here about the middle OF
the summer, when / first came to this
place; and out of curiosity I went 20 see it
among the others. There were just about
hall dozen dogs-mangy mongrels all.
with the exception OF a gr;ly-muZZled
collie--and they were put through their
PAGES by girl who seemed to run the
SHOW entirely by herself. She was my
heroine.'
Wayne put his pipe into his mouth here,
and struck match, as if to signify that
was all, but an eXpectant ''Y es'' from his
auditor limited TO him to proceed.
Well" he said, II noticed III May that
she was looking fearfully emaciated-
halt-starved, in fact; which wasn't to be
wondered 1T, as there We're not more
than half dozen others besides myselt
in the tent, and we only paid penny
apiece for the performance. But a week,
ago, when the caravan passed through
broke down entirely, and that was when
/ first found out all about her. She is
twenty-three now, it seems = twenty
'three last week; and just ten years ago
ner Stepmother turned her out of doors.
Poor child, she had had a hard life of it.
she lost her own mother when she was
two, and her father married again. Then
he died, and the wife took on with a
collier, who had family of his own.
Both Of them ill-treated her abominally;
and finally, as | have said, turned her out
of doors. She didn't know where to go
to; she hadn't friend in the world, poor
little mite, or relation either, that she
knew of, for the matter of that; and so
she wandered out of the place, and sat
down and shivered on a bank. Never
before had she been outside the town OF
her birth. 1t was night, and raining, and
the passers-by, of whom there were few,
never noticed her. Not that she minded
much; she was too numbed with misery
for that-cold, hungry, wretched, and
dulled with despair
Presently a dog came and shifted at
her. Good sort of creatures, dogs, aren't
they-especially stray ones? You al
ways see them cumming up to people
who are in trouble. Well, she patted the
beast, and when its owner came by. he
saw the two of them together.
Ullo,' said he-he was Doynes, by
the way-'what're you a-doin' 'ere?
Amt got no 'ome.'
"'Ow's that?'
"' Mothers turned me ont, and she
says she'll rive T. 'eart out o. me if l goes
back AEGEAN. An she'll do it am ALL
Now, don't know whether Doynes
was moved by the idea that this was a
good opportunity to pick up much-de-
sired assistant cheap, or by the child's
evident misery. l should imagine the
former. But anyway, he asked:
Wll yer come along VII me?'
ION being answered Yes he slowed
Liz inside his conveyance, fed her, gave
her a Shal1e-down on the floor. and then
drove on. And that was how Liz became
enrolled among the exhibiting staff of the
Performing Dogs.
HE was a happy-go-lucky sort OF
chap, this Doynes, never troubling him.
self particularly about anything, whether
it was business or pleasure religion OF
honesty. He drank when he felt in
clined, sometimes in moderation, some
times in excess; and ate when he was
hungry. be was not intelligent-looking
by any means, but he was clever with
dogs and knew good deal about their
value and capabilities. As a matter OF
fact, DoyneS was not his name at all, but
II was the only one by which he was
known He bought it when he bought
the show from the original Doynes, who,
by strict attention to business, raised
himself to the dizzy eminence of the
third-rate music hall stage-and a pro-
fessorship-and his own name sank grace
fully among the miStS of the past. Liz
too, assimilated the surname of Doynes.
AT first she was simply known as
'Doynes' Liz but of later years she be-
came Liz Doynes, and her real patronymic
also is not even matter OF history now.
Accustomed as she had been to cease
less labor and thankless toll, the child
h.at. 90