Waterbury evening Democrat., 1893-03-25
Rab and His Friends.
BY JOHN BROWN, M D.

our heads together, and our arms inter twisted, as only lovers and boys know how or why.
 When we got to the top of the street, and turned north, we espied a crowd at the Iron Church. "A dog-fght!' shouted Bob, and was off; and so was l, both of us all but praying that it might not be over before we got up And is not this boy-nature? and human nature too? and don't we all wish a house on fire not to be out before we see it? Dogs like fighting; old Isaac. says they delight" in it, and for the best of all reasons; and boys are not. cruel because they like to see the fight. They see three of the great cardinal virtues of dog or man-courage, endur-> ance, and skill - in intense action. This is very different from the love of making dogs fight; and enjoying, and aggravating, and making gain by their pluck. A boy, be he ever so fond him. self of fighting, if he be good boy, hates and despises all this; but he would have run off with Bob and me fast enough. It is a natural, and a not wicked interest, that all boys and men have in witnessing intense energy in action.
 Does any curious and finely ignorant woman wish to know how Bob's eye at a glance announced dog-fight to his brain? He did not. he could not see the dogs fighting; it was a flash of an inference, a rapid induction. The crowd around dog-fight is a crowd masculine mainly, with an occasional active. compassionate woman, flutter. ing wildly round the outside, and using her tongue and her hands freely upon the men, as so many "'brutes;' it is crowd annular, compact, and mobile; a crowd centripetal, having it's eyes and its heads all bent downwards and in wards, to one common focus.
 We'll, Bob and are up, and find it is not over; small thoroughbred, white bull-terrier is busy throttling a large shepherds dog, unaccustomed to war, but not to be trifed with. They are hard at it; the scientific little fellow doing his work in great style, his pastoral enemy fighting wildly, but with the sharpest of teeth and great courage. Science and breed ing, however, soon had their own; the Game Chicken, as the premature Bob called him, working his way up, took his final grip of poor Yarrow's throat and he lay gasping and done for. His master, brown, handsome, big young shepherd from Tweedsmuir, would have liked to have knocked down any man, would drink up Esil, or eat a crocodile" for that part, if he had a chance; it was no use kicking the little dog, that would only make him hold the closer. Many were the means shouted out in mouthfuls, of the best possible ways of ending it. "Water!" but there was none near, and many cried for 1t who might have got it from the well at Blackfriars Wynd. Bite the tall!' and large, vague, benevolent, mlddle-aged man, more dcsirous than wise, with some struggle got the bushy end of YarrowS tail into his ample mouth, and bit it with all his might This was more than enough for the much enduring, much perspiring shepherd who, with gleam of joy over his broad vlsagc, delivered a terrific facer upon our large, vague, benevolent, middle aged fricnd-who went down like a shot
 Still the Chicken holds: death not far off. Snuff! a pinch of snuff" observed q calm, highly-dressed young buck, with an cyc-glass in his eye. Snuff. indccd!' growled the angry crowd, altrontcd and glaring. Snuff! pinch of snuff" again observes the buck, with more urgency; whereupon were pro- duced several open boxes, and from a null which may have been nt Culloden, he took a pinch, knelt down, and pre- sented it to the nose of the Chicken. The laws of physiology and of snuff take their course; the Chicken sneezes and Narrow is free!
 The young pastoral giant stalks of with Narrow in his arms, comforting him.
 But the bull-terrier's blood is up, and his soul unsatisfied; he. grips the first dog he meets, and discovering she is not dog in Homeric phrase, he makes brief sort of amende, and is off. The boys, with Bob and me at their head, arc aftcr him: down Niddry street he goes bent on mischief; up the Cowgate like an arrow-Bob and I, and our small men, panting behind.
 \ There, under the single arch of the | South Bridge is huge mastiff, sumter ing down the middle of the causeway as if with his hands in his pockets; he is old, gray, and brindled, as big as a N llLIiS DuIl, duIl IldS ILlC O1dhcS perian dewlaps shaking as he goes.
 The Chicken makes straight at him, and fastens on his throat. To our as
 tonishmcnt the great creature does
 nothing but stand still, hold himsel1
 up, and roar-yes, roar; long serious
 remonstrative roar. How is this? Bol
 and are up to them. He is muzzled
 The bailies had proclaimed genera
 muzzling, and his master, studying
 strength and economy mainly, hac
 encompassed his huge jaws in {
 home made apparatus, constructed
 out of the leather of some ancien
 brecching. His mouth was opel
 as far as it could; his lips curled up il
 ragc-a sort of terrible grin: his teetl
 glcaming, ready, from out the dark
 ness; the strap acros, his mouth tens
 as a bowstring; hi, whole frame stiff
 with indignation and surprise; his roa
 asking us all round. Did you ever se
 the like of this?" He looked a statu
 of anger and nstoni hmrnt, done il | hCrflnon