The San Francisco call. [volume] (San Francisco [Calif.]) 1895-1913, 1895-09-29
The Dog That Had the Last Bark.

MARY CALKINS JOHNSON.
The Dog That Had the Last Bark.
You've doubtless heard of children
perhaps you may be personally acquainted
with some of them, who always insist, no
matter what happens, on having the last
word. Well, now l shall tell you about q
little dog who had the last bark and what
befell him. His name was "Wig-wag,"
after very funny fashion he had of wag-
ging head, tail and body all at the same
time.
The family he favored by residing with
had but just moved into their new home,
which was located very prettily near the
base of some rolling hills. 'Wig-wag" was
not ga thoroughbred" by any means,
though he thought he was, and that, you
know, sometimes makes good impression
on outsiders. However, he had some dis
tinction in his claims to some of the blue
blood of the japanese pug-he was most
pugnacious, at any rate, and had grown
into such overbearing ways. by persisting
in every event on having the last bark, that
he was Stunned by all and any dogs who
might otherwise have proved firm friends
to him, and these would-be acquaintance
IN his new home might have saved him
from the consequences of his own foolish
ness. But mol Master Wig-wag held his
snub nose high in air, curled his curly tail
all the tighter and barked sneeringly and
lmpudently at every dog who showed any
plebeian politeness. Now, off among the
hills, behind Wig-wag's new home, there
dwelt very naughty and tantalizing Echo,
who was always ready to get some one into
trouble, if such a thing was possible. If
he (of course it was a he) heard a hunter
crackle and snap dry twigs when in search
of the timid quail, Mr.. Echo would crackle
and snap dry twigs just ahead, so the poor
deiuded man would fire into the brush,
wasting his shot and soaring away any
game within sound, which proceeding
vastly pleased the mischief maker, and
once when little brother was searching
for his little sister this miserable Echo so
mimicked his calls that he came very near
giving up in despair, though he finally did
find her taking nap under manzanita
brush. One rather windy night Wig-wag
chose to become angry at the wind, and he
thought himself personally insulted by it's
whistling and meanings, so as he knew no
other way of revenge he began barking in
an insoent way. Now, as there were so
few dogs around Echo haG been quite idle
for some time, but | can tell you the in
slant he heard that saucy bark he grew
wide awake and answered back with all his
strength.
$50 to-" said Wig-wag. GLOW ridicu-
loas of any dog pretending to answer me,
and have the last bark; I'll show em, :"
and again he barked. Echo answered, and
it was "bow-wow, bow-wow, wow-bow,
wow bow" for about half an hour till
Wig-wag's throat became so dry that he
wandered off to the water bucket and re-
turned refreshed, and, as he said, deter
mined to fight it out on this line if he had
to be barked entirely.
So again he tried BOW wow" very
prolonged "Bow-wow," more
prolonged.
Strange" said Wig-wag; 81 should
think the impudent thing would be tired J;
how dare he bark up 10 my bark? Does
he not know that my ancestors have
looked upon the holy peak of Fuiiyama
that l am II and not only does this
wretched cur answer me, but he actually
mimics my tones" and he was so enraged
that he sounded an indignant 'ki-yi,"
which "ki-vi' was dutifullv returned by
the teasing Echo, who hadn't had so much
fun for an age, and was Just enjoying him
self immensely.
When Wig-wag first began his barking
his usual pertness was plain to be seen, his
nose high in the air and his tail well curled
but as time wore on, his nose came down
peg or two, and his tail began to uncurl
like girls bangs in the fog. He tried all
varieties of barks, even some that he'd
heard were imported He gave the "High
Jap" and Low JAP" but was determined
he'd never give up the game. He tried
banks in tenor, barks in bass, even barks
in falsetto; still useless. All his great
artistic attempts were returned with
thanks" every time.
After awhile Wig-wag grew very tired Ct
know of some people near by who were
tired tool, but Echo never got weary. and
n I1Vh fod ho ratI and harl -,f .af
grew hoarser and hoarser. Poor silly pug
He lay down painting to rest awhile, his
tongue lolling out ana his throat parched.
If his obstinacy had only been in the
proper direction, we should have called it
determinationandp praised him accordingly,
but here, as it was, he could not under
stand that it was his own foolishness that
had tired him so.
He thought it was the other dogs fault
all the time, ana after little rest he stag
gered to his feet exhausted, but still cling
ing to his hopes for the last bark. Could
he have noticed, he would have seen that
that tail of his, once the pride of his heart
In its bewitching curliness, was sticking
out straight, stiff and forlorn, as though
there were no curling irons in the world.
But he never looked behind him, but
barked with all his strength and was an
swered as usual.
''I'll not give in, never" and he sat on
the ground and barked very feebly. Still
the last bark was not his, the other dog
had it. Once more a feeble bark, feebiy
answered; he rolled over on his side and
moaned a bark, so faint that Echo heard it
not, which was the only reason ne did not
answer it. So though Wig-wag's proud
spirit was graJified, his strength was gone,
and with one little sigh he died; a victim
to his own conceit, and the next morning
when the poor worn body of the once i'm
portant Wig-wag was found land l know
somebody that was not sorry) they all Won
dered what could have been the matter,
and didn't have the sense to see that the
foolish pug had died rather than give up
his right to the last bark.
MARY WOODWARD EDWARDS.