Tails to Wag by Nancy Butler Read Free Book Online

the dining-room to get into the bedroom so you can turn around and leave by the kitchen. And he snores and barks in his sleep, and I have to smoke in the park on account of his asthma.”
    â€œDon’t Missis Telfair—” began Jim.
    â€œOh, shut up!” said the dogman. “What is it this time?”
    â€œWhisky,” said Jim.
    â€œMake it two,” said the dogman.
    â€œWell, I’ll be racking along down toward the ferry,” said the other.
    â€œCome on, there, you mangy, turtle-backed, snake-headed, bench-legged ton-and-a-half of soap-grease!” shouted the dogman, with a new note in his voice and a new hand on the leash. The dog scrambled after them, with an angry whine at such unusual language from his guardian.
    At the foot of Twenty-third Street the dogman led the way through swinging doors.
    â€œLast chance,” said he. “Speak up.”
    â€œWhisky,” said Jim.
    â€œMake it two,” said the dogman.
    â€œI don’t know,” said the ranchman, “where I’ll find the man I want to take charge of the Little Powder outfit. I want somebody I know something about. Finest stretch of prairie and timber you ever squinted your eye over, Sam. Now, if you was—”
    â€œSpeaking of hydrophobia,” said the dogman, “the other night he chewed a piece out of my leg because I knocked a fly off of Marcella’s arm. ‘It ought to be cauterized,’ says Marcella, and I was thinking so myself. I telephones for the doctor, and when he comes Marcella says to me: ‘Help me hold the poor dear while the doctor fixes his mouth. Oh, I hope he got no virus on any of his toofies when he bit you.’ Now what do you think of that?”
    â€œDoes Missis Telfair—” began Jim.
    â€œOh, drop it,” said the dogman. “Come again!”
    â€œWhisky,” said Jim.
    â€œMake it two,” said the dogman.
    They walked on to the ferry. The ranchman stepped to the ticket-window.
    Suddenly the swift landing of three or four heavy kicks was heard, the air was rent by piercing canine shrieks, and a pained, outraged, lubberly, bow-legged pudding of a dog ran frenziedly up the street alone.
    â€œTicket to Denver,” said Jim.
    â€œMake it two,” shouted the ex-dogman, reaching for his inside pocket.

The Baron’s Wonderful Dog
    R. E. Raspe
    I had married a lady of great beauty, who, having heard of my sporting exploits, desired, a short time after our marriage, to go out with me on a shooting expedition. I went on in front to start something, and I soon saw my dog stop before several hundred coveys of partridges. I waited for my wife, who was following me with my lieutenant and a servant. I waited a long time; nobody came.
    At length, very uneasy, I went back, and, when I was halfway to the place where I had left my wife, I heard lamentable groans. They seemed quite near, and yet I could see no trace of a human being. I jumped off my horse; I put my ear to the ground, and not only heard the groans distinctly rising from beneath, but my wife’s voice and those of my lieutenant and servant.
    I remarked at the same time, not far from the spot, the shaft of a coal-pit, and I had no doubt that my wife and her unfortunate companions had been swallowed up in it. I rode full speed to the nearest village to fetch the miners, who after great efforts succeeded in drawing the unfortunate individuals buried in the pit—which measured ninety feet—to the surface.
    They first drew up the manservant; then his horse; next the lieutenant; next his horse; and at length my wife on her little palfrey. The most curious part of this affair was that, in spite of the awful depth to which they had fallen, no one was hurt, not even the horses, if we except a few slight contusions. But they had had a terrible fright, and were quite unable to pursue our intended sport.
    In all this confusion I quite forgot my setter, as no doubt you