The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1894-06-25
Way CAN'T DOG THINK
jeff Seemed to Do So in That Little
From the Kew York Reeordel

From the New York Recorder.
was visiting a friend near Baton
Rouge, La, who was the owner of q big
tawny-colored Newfoundland, that dur
ing the day was usually chained to his
kennel, about rod from the comfortable,
shady veranda.
Our nearest neighbor. my friends
brother, who lived at some distance,
owned two dogs that were almost insep-
arabic companions. jeff, the smaller, was
a little, active, and ambitious busybody,
about the color of the canebrake, and was
always up to mischief except when hunt
ing 'poSsum or coon. There he meant
business from the start, aud could tree
more cOOns and unearth more 'pOssums
than any dog Of his inches in that part of
the country; and | have known him to
pick up the trail of a wildcat when a full
pack OF hounds were at fault. | have
known jeff at night, when not in the hui
NOR, and dragged from under the porch
and forced into a coon hunt, to start off
down the lane and into the woods with
apparent eagerness and disappear in the
shadows.
In about fifteen minutes, half a mile
away we would hear Jeff's peculiar
bark Come on, boys, he's got him"
Then run in the direction of the sound
through bog, clumps of cane, over logs
and under the oYerhanging moss. "Whah
be you, Jeff2n Not a sound Suddenly
from another direction, but still further
in the wood, would come Jeff's we'll
known bark. Come on, boys he's
a-runniu' him!" Then another chase {;
then another halt; then Jef's cry still
farther of, saying as plainly as a dog
could speak: Hurry up; he's big one,
and l can't hold himl"
Away again we go, as eagerly as if we
were hunted instead of hunters. Finally,
after two hours of hard running, we
woald pitch up at the starting point, and
Jetf's last triumphant bark would come
from under the porch.
Jeff's companion was a little, under
sized half-breed Dalmatian that no
amount Of feeding would fatten, except
in the middle, and after gorging himself
he looked like snake that had swallowed
a rabbit. Willie" as he was called, was
always hungry and always thirsty, and
food and drink only made him leaner. He
seemed TO have implicit confidence in
Jeff-a confidence that was often be-
trayed and once in particular, which
brings me to consideration of the head
ing OF this article, Does Dog Think"
One warm Sunday, late in the spring,
we were seated on the veranda, Bob, the
Newfoundland, was chained to his kennel
as usual, and waiting for his dinner, when
jeff, unaccompanied by Willie, came over
on a visit.
The cook had just thrown big bone to
Bob, which JEFF eyed in half apologize
manner and marched up TO take pot luck.
But the fierce growl and long, white teeth
of Bob kept him at a hungry distance
JEFF made several vain attempts to share
Bob'S dinner, then shook his head sadly
and started for home. There" said my
friend, that's the first time l ever saw
JEFF give up without fight"
We had forgotten the incident, and Bob
had settled down to enjoy his bone, when
we heard Jeff's bark, followed by Willies
long-drawn plaintive howl. Presently
both dogs came wriggling through the
fence and took up their station just out
of Bob's reach. Willie looking imploringly
and jeff in the attitude of a dog that's
been overfed. Then JEFF looked at Willie
as if he would say, That's the fastest
bone | ever gorged myself with"
at looks dainty" says Willie; bob
has had enough, I'll just take it, and he
won't make a glutton of himself" With
this the poor little half-witted animal
walked up to take the bone. Bob seized
him by the back of the neck and started
to shake him in the most approved fash
ion. AS he did so, JEFF made a dash,
grabbed the bone, and before Boo could
let go of Willie and realize what was 60
ing on, Jeff was under the veranda, Just
out of reach, contertedly gnawing the
bone. Did jeff think?