The New York herald., 1922-08-06
By ELEANOR BOOTH SIMMONS

casey's beautiful Gordon set
ter, ran away from her COM
Portable boarding place at Fort Try
on Hall. on the crest of Washington
Heights. and set up a dog Bolshevist
republic right in Manhattan Bor-
ough, in the heart of the land Of
muzzles and leashes, were hidden in
her silky black and tan head. But
cherchez la femme, Whatever her
motive. it was Lassie who founded
the tribe of the Wild Dogs of In
wood, which for three years. making
their lairs in caves among the rocks
of the wooded hillsides and in the
cellars of abandoned houses, caused
people to feel they were living in
some coyote haunted part of the
West. Lassie had a consort. but up
to the time he eloped with her he
had showed so little character that /
am sure she was the Lenin of the
whole picturesque performance. And
waking o. cold nights in my bed. the
winter after her disappearance, and
listening to the weird howls that
came piercingly from a cave that
opened from a vacant lot on Broad
way a few blocks above the 191st
street subway station, l fancied L
could distinguish her voice leading
the chorus.
Lassie, before she became a Boil
sheyist. was an employee of the City
of New York. She was assistant to
Larry Casey. an inspector OF the
Park Department. and lived with him
in weather beaten stately old house
on the banks of the Harlem. AccHs-
toned to an active life with Larry,
probably she found existence dull
when he took her to Fort Tryon Hall
and left her confined in the barns
there. If C. X. G. Billings, the for
mer owner. had been there still with
his racing horses, there would have
been something doing, but the place
was empty except for a few auto
mobiles, and Lassic languished.
Perhaps seeing so many dogs in
muzzles and leashes gave her, in her
idleness, morose thoughts about civil
lization. The population of the upper
end of Manhattan Island is a popu-
lation of dog owners, and Fort Wash
ington avenue. where it passes the
Fort Tryon Hall barns, is one of
their promenades. Daily many well
to do CANNES take their unsatisfac-
tory exercise there in resigned pac-
ing or frantic pulling at leashes, at
the sides of their masters and mis-
tresses. Perhaps Lassie, looking out
on this, dreamed of herself as the
Ltberator OF her kind.
Perhaps the unrest that was in
the air got into her blood---it was
war time then. Perhaps she decided
to go back TO Larry Casey. What
ever it was. Lassie wriggled out OF
her collar and departed But she
was never seen in her old home. A
small boy of the neighborhood saw
her carrying live hen into the cave
behind the great rock in the vacant
lot on broadway. Larry Casey. in
formed of her escapade, came over
and beat about with calling and
whistling. but if she heard him she
paid no attention. To be queen of
pack was heady draft, and Lassie
was queen.
Cannibalism in Cave.
The pack grew by leaps and
bounds, literally. Big dogs. little
dogs. blooded dogs and mongrels
came to swell it's numbers. There
are always many lost dogs: collies.
especially, have a something in their
blood that frequently will send the
most cherished pet adventuring far
from home. Some fine !itters of
collie pups were born in that cave
on Broadway. Few of them lived to
doghood. Their mothers had re-
verted to type in a measure, but civil
lization had dulled certain instincts:
they were unaware that the wild
mother when she stops nursing her
y6,lnp carries thor, s,,aat f;ll tJ,a, o,,,