The Forest Republican. [volume] (Tionesta, Pa.) 1869-1952, 1894-03-21

lazily toward the place where the
small, dirty figure had gone under the
muddy water, giving it plenty of time
to drown in the most leisurely way
before their arrival. Only the screech-
ing mother and the dog were really
alive TO the situation.
Jags was weak from long fasting,
but the instinct inherited from q long
line of noble ancestors nerved him.
In flash, it seemed, his gaunt body
was in the water and out, and Betsy
had snatched her soaked ''kid,"
drained the water out of him and adj
ministered a ringing slap.
eye spalpane? Will yez be kapin'
away from the wather-will yez?"
The child replied with vicious
squirm and an unchildlike curse.
Betsy went back to her washtub, while
Jags crept patiently to the side of his
master who, with another, had dropped
from sheer exhaustion on the yellow
earth. No one thought OF praising or
thanking Jags. Such small, sweet
courtesies were not customary in Rat
Row. Only Blinks's companion, who
seemed more alive than his surround
ings, looked approvingly at the dog.
Fetch n carry?" he said laconi-
cally, nodding in Jags's direction.
'Iike -" drawled his master,
with laziness strangely at variance
with the lurid comparison. "Hyar,
dawgi Git it'
Jags looked up imploringly as a
stick few far into the water. He was
willing enough, heaven knows! But
when one has had only one fly to eat
for twenty-four hours, and had just
dragged a heavy squlIming body from
the water, he may be pardoned for
feeling trembly and averse to unneces-
sary exertion.
'Git it !" snarled his master. There
was kick IN the eye, Jags went
meekly out into the turbid water and
came trembling all over to lay the
stick beside the tyrant. Again it few
out, farther than before. This time
Jags was almost swept down the river.
'Let upl" said Blinks's companion /;
''the dawg's nigh croaked."
'Lazy, cuss 'im" drawled Jagss
energetic owner. Jags gave whine
of almost human entreaty when the
stick was thrown again, but tottered
away to almost certain death.
Amicable relations are easily dis
turbed in Rat Row. Big Andy caught
Blinks by that part of his garment
where the collar should have been and
shook him into stupid protest.
''Blame yer mizzable hidel" he
shouted furiously. "Call i'm back or
I'll fling ye in arter i'm !"
Blinks fell Imply to the ground and
obeyed. But Jags had already turned
to defend his master and bounded
back with q growl at his assailant.
'Cussed if the dawg wouldn't fight
fer ye now, ye sneakin' hound !" NUT
tered Big Andy with an admiring grin
at Jags. He went into his own nest in
the tenement house and flung Jags a
bone. "Hyar, dawgl Put that down
your neck %
Jags snatched it with the fervor of
starvation, but his master was filed
with a sullen spite against the inno-
cent cause of his shaking, and, look
ing to see that Big Andy was at safe
distance, he called:
''Hyar, ye imp"
The dog came, clinging desperately
to the precious food.
''Drop it !"
The poor animal obeyed, cycling it
wistfully the while.
"NoW, come git il |"
Jags bounded ioyfully forward to
meet kick that made him howl. Re
peating this amusing performance un-
til he was weary, the human brute
finally threw the bone into the river.
Jags started weakly after it, but
obeyed with something like tears in
his one pathetic eye when commanded
to lie down.
Well, he had been hungry before,
and if his master willed this, he must
know best.
1t has been seen, long before this,
that Jags was an ideal Christian.
Hours after this even Rat Row was
wrapped in slumber-the heavy sleep
of the drunkard or the leaden one of
exhaustion and weakness. Blinks, af-
ter taking several more drinks from n
fat, black bottle, staggered into some
corner of the Old Mill, after ordering
Jags in language savoring of birthstone
to stay out, when the poor dog tried to
follow him in.
The stars shone rs serenely down on
the foul smelling city slums as upon
the clover-sweet meadows far away.
The river murmured and gurgled along
the black piers. Sometimes the
"chug-chug" of steamboat came
clearly through the night; then its
hoarse whistle-one long drawn, three
short, another long-woke the echoes
and it pufied past, its high, colored
lights and trailing smoke making it
look through the darkness like some
tiery-eyed demon of the mists.
Jags, lying prone on the rickety
steps of the Old Mill, means and cries
little in his sleep as vague realiza-
tions of his wretched life and empty
stomach visit his dream.
Suddenly he starts up, nose in air,
and listens. There is nothing unusual,
Jags! The river gurgles on softly,
| the stars twinkle undimmed, there is
no variation of sight or sound that hu-
man mind can detect. Not human
mind, perhaps, but dog instinct