THE ARTISTIC THIEF
“They also know
And reason not contemptibly.”
JET, in appearance and character, had a distinction all his own. That the latter was due to a subtle cleverness which frequently led him from the paths of virtue did not prevent his being in private life a dog of high moral character. He never condescended to petty thieving, but when an occasion presented itself that he felt was worthy of his powers, Jet threw himself into it with all the enthusiasm of a true artist.
He was a King Charles spaniel of a type now unknown, and was believed to be the last specimen of his kind. He was coal black from tip to tail, and had lovely blue-black eyes that completed the duskiness of his appearance. His head was not so short as the present fashion demands, though it was shorter than those painted by Landseer, or portrayed by the eighteenth-century artists.
As a puppy he was too leggy for perfect beauty, but there was no evidence of this when he thickened out, and had grown a silky coat that swept the ground, from the tip of his undocked feathery tail to his ears. The latter were of extraordinary length, and would tie easily over his mouth—in a bow his family declared, but certainly in a love knot. When he was six months old, he came from his home in the Isle of Wight into the possession of one of the family, with some member of which he spent the remainder of his life.
While his master, who was a curate, was still living at home, Jet started on the career that made him famous. Belonging to another member of the family was a Blenheim puppy, of the kind now known as a Ruby. Both the mites were fond of Pearl biscuits, and these were bought for them in small quantities, as they did not come within the scope of the lawful housekeeping arrangements. The little fat Peter was more than once found busily engaged on the floor with a bag of his favourite dainties, though this had been put well out of his reach, and his size and shape forbade the idea of his having fetched it down. But one day when the dining-room door was standing half open, Jet was seen to jump on to the sideboard, shake and break the bag of biscuits, and, after securing what he wanted for himself, push the lightened bag down to the waiting Peter. At the first movement of the door Jet flew from his perch, and by the time the visitor was in the room he was sitting in a corner looking a model of innocence and ignorance. Peter, meanwhile, ate hard, while there was still time, but his lapses from virtue were explained.
Before long Jet accompanied his master to a Midland town, where the latter had rooms over a grocer’s shop. He speedily made himself at home there, and was a favourite with every one in the house. A trick of his puppyhood, not yet got rid of, was the love of tearing books to pieces. Many times Jet was corrected for this crime, but when a book lying on his master’s writing-table disappeared bodily he was not even suspected. Not a sign of torn leaves pointed to his indulgence in a forbidden pleasure. It was not till his master left the rooms a year later that Jet’s delinquency was made clear. When a heavy set of bookshelves was moved from its place, there, pushed carefully from view behind them, lay the remains of the missing book. Every leaf was torn, and it was evident that during some prolonged absence from home of his owner Jet had had a long day’s enjoyment with them. That he had managed to clear away every sign of the fragments said not a little for the intelligence he had brought to bear on the matter. But this artistic finish to his work was what made Jet a leader in his line.
There was trouble for the mistress of the house soon after Jet took up his abode there. In her shop there were various trays of eggs, each with its appropriate label. Some were marked “Real Fresh Laid,” and only those in the mistress’s confidence knew that another place must be sought for eggs that actually deserved this title. But from the latter store one or more eggs disappeared daily. No one but those in the house could go with such unfailing certainty to the choicest store. Many were the conjectures, and suspicion at last fell on a maid-servant. But the mistress one day felt an obstruction under a door mat, and lifting the mat she saw a collection of egg-shells that gave her the clew to the thief. Jet was undoubtedly the culprit, though how he had managed to get at the contents of the egg-tray remained a mystery. The maid’s character was cleared of suspicion, though it was pointed out to her with some force that she had only her own slovenly habits of cleaning to thank for having been suspected.
Jet at this time was a very independent little dog, as he was left to his own devices while his master was engaged in the parish. Being of a friendly disposition, he made many acquaintances among his fellows, his chosen friend being a large spaniel, who lived in the yard of Jet’s home. This spaniel was fastened up during the day to act as guardian to the shop, and it was not till business hours were over that he was let loose and allowed to rove at liberty. One day Jet had what might well have been a serious encounter in the streets with a large mongrel, and it was only the little thing’s nimbleness that saved him from the chastisement the other was anxious to inflict. Jet’s master was absent from home, so the dusky mite took refuge with his friend the spaniel, whose house he refused to leave for the remainder of the day.
What was it that passed between the two dogs in those long hours they spent together, before the time of relief for the larger one came? It is a case in which we feel we would give much to be able to pierce the unknown nature of their communications. As soon as the spaniel was unfastened, he and Jet were seen to start off at once on an expedition that looked like business. There was no aimless roving or barking. Jet led the way, and his big friend followed. After some search they came upon the mongrel, and without the slightest sign of hesitation the spaniel made for him and proceeded to business. Jet meantime sat down quietly on the pavement and awaited developments. The spaniel’s size was in his favour, and he managed in the end to drive the enemy off the field. As soon as this was done Jet joined him, and the two trotted quietly back together. That the story of the mornings adventures had by some means been conveyed by Jet to his friend, it seems scarcely possible to doubt in view of their subsequent action.
Jet’s next change of residence took him back to the family house in town, where he met his future mistress. He attached himself to her from the first, and always remained devoted to her. Yet with this one exception Jet’s greatest friend throughout life was himself. He showed his capacity for affection in the strong and deep attachment he displayed to his mistress, but outside this he was a self-centred little epicurean, to whom personal comfort and the good things of this life were of paramount importance. He showed a gentlemanly regard for all members of the family, and was very popular with the servants. The latter always spoke of him as “Little Master Jet,” for the custom begun in jest soon grew into a habit. “Shall I take out little Master Jet?” or “What will little Master Jet have for dinner?” came to be regarded as a matter of course in speaking of him.
When the time came for Jet’s lawful owner to leave home, there was trouble with the determined little spaniel. He clung resolutely to the mistress he had chosen, and no bribes would draw him from her side. Even his favourite dainties had no charm for him, when their enjoyment meant leaving the shelter he had taken up. Finally the schoolroom party, of which Jet’s friend was the eldest member, clubbed their money together and bought him at his original price. The rules in the house were stringent about pets, but Jet, finding the hours long when his mistress was at lessons, refused to be bound by them. He even made good his place in the drawing room, sacred to the elders. Here he one day found his owner’s grandmother in tears on her couch. Springing up to her, he expressed his sympathy with rose-leaf tongue and silky paws in such dainty fashion that from that moment his position was assured.
No dog ever had a stronger sense of fun than Jet. He dearly loved a practical joke, and showed the nicest discrimination in the choice of the pranks he played on the different members of the household. He was a capital jumper, and very quick in his movements, and no sooner did he see one of his older friends lean forward in his chair in the excitement of conversation than a rapid spring would carry him into the space behind the speaker. The instant he had accomplished this he would to all appearance fall into such a ridiculously sound slumber that he was deaf to all blandishments addressed to him. But no sooner had he been lifted from his perch than he was as wide awake as ever, and evidently well pleased with the successful carrying out of his coup.
The trick for the younger ones was of a different nature, as it was no fun to usurp a place that was instantly ceded to him. A tiny scratch at the door would demand admission to the schoolroom, but when it was thrown open for him, there was no Jet to be seen. A few minutes later the same signal would be made, and always with the same result. His dusky colour and his rapid movements aided him in his flight, but if his victim waited inside the door to catch him, not a sound would be heard until she had resumed her seat. At last Jet’s excitement could no longer be controlled, and a bark from his place of concealment would betray his presence. These tricks were entirely of his own devising, but his young owners soon taught him the usual accomplishments, and he would beg or trust to order. But he was sometimes called upon for his performances when he did not feel inclined for them. Then no power on earth would move him. It was no uncommon sight for one of his young instructors to be on her knees, scolding and propping Jet up, in the vain hope of getting a regulation beg from him. Time after time Jet would fall a little backboneless heap on the floor, really a much better piece of acting than the stereotyped trick he was asked for.
His walks on the chain, with his mistress in town, were a model of propriety. But with the youngest member of the schoolroom party, whenever the honour of his guardianship was confided to her, the result was very different. Then mad rushes at fat-legged children, and shrill barks at nervous passers-by came to heighten the pleasures of the walk, and it is to be feared that they were not altogether displeasing to his small guardian. It was only play, and the young things at either end of the lead had not yet learned to take life seriously.
It was on the occasion of his chosen mistress’s first dance that Jet again showed his distinguishing talent. He always loved bright colours and evening dress, and when he saw his mistress in all the glories of her first ball dress, he showed his admiration in the most flattering way by walking backwards in front of her with little yelps of approval. When she left him his owner kissed her thanks to the discerning mite, and whispered to him not to be dull, but to enjoy himself. This injunction Jet proceeded to carry out.
He was left in the dining room, where a meal had been put on the table for the master of the house, who was not expected home till a late hour. When he arrived he received a warm welcome from Jet. Everything looked cosy and inviting to a tired traveller, but it seemed the parlourmaid had been forgetful. Butter and cheese had both been forgotten. True, both cheese and butter dish were on the table, but neither of them had been used. Thinking it too late to disturb the household, the meal was made without them. The next morning the mistress of the house, having been told of the oversight, mentioned it to the parlourmaid. But the maid indignantly denied the imputation. She was certain she had put both butter and cheese ready for the master.
Could Jet know anything about it? It seemed improbable, for neither the meat nor any of the other dishes on the table had been touched, and these would have been much more to his taste than the missing things. There was not the faintest paw-mark to suggest his having been on the table, and the two empty dishes seemed to say that nothing had been laid on them. Later it was discovered that the cheese was missing from the larder, but nothing explained the mystery until the remains of the nibbled cheese were discovered in a rounded recess in the dining room where the sideboard stood. It had been so cleverly concealed that it only came to light when the sideboard itself was moved. With its discovery Jet’s crime was made clear. He had evidently jumped on the table to investigate, and with his usual discrimination refraining from touching what would have proclaimed his guilt at once, he had eaten the butter and cleaned the dish so that no trace of his work was left. Then he must have pushed the cheese from the table, taking care to leave no sign behind, and after finishing his meal on it, put it cleverly out of sight.
The hold Jet had by this time secured in the family affection was proved by the fact that his mistress’s parting injunction to enjoy himself was held to be the cause of the crime, and it was decreed that the delinquent was not to be punished.
It may be easily believed that the kitchen was no place for such a fascinating dog. Visits to the cook were found to injure his digestion, and they were sternly forbidden. The study, however, was on the ground floor, for the house being built on a hill, the windows of the back room opened on to the large garden common to all the houses of the long row. A visit to the study often gave Jet his opportunity. While his own mistress was in the schoolroom Jet would go to the study with her mother. One morning, having omitted to close the door after her, his temporary guardian found that Jet had left her. Calling to him she saw a little dusky form creep noiselessly from the front kitchen, pass the open door without a sound, and make his way upstairs. A second later an excited and noisy little dog came clattering downstairs, and rushed into the study with every manifestation of joy at having found out where she was. The cleverness of his acting here again saved him from punishment for disobedience to orders.
Jet, as I have said, was fed with great care, and such unwholesome dainties as bones of birds were forbidden him. But it was often noticed that when he came in from a run in the big gardens he had been eating something. One day he was so uncomfortable that, dropping concealment, he came to his mistress for assistance. A fine bone had worked its way into his upper lip. His mistress was puzzled as to how it came there, but concluded that some cat must have taken it into the gardens. A few days later the croquet things were wanted, and as soon as the box was opened, Jet’s supply of bones stood revealed. There in a corner was a little hoard of grouse bones.
The Artistic Thief
JET
The box stood in the small space between the top of the kitchen stairs and the door that led into the gardens. The bones must have been taken from the plates as they were brought from the dining room, and the half-open box that stood invitingly near offered a ready place of concealment. In Jet’s many unattended excursions into the gardens he must have visited his store and taken some out for present enjoyment, but never by a sniff as he passed at any other time did he betray their presence. Doubtless he heard with complacency, touched by grief at the loss of his store, the admiration expressed for his talents and his self-restraint.
Only once was Jet surprised in the act. An open larder door and an eager attentive collie, gazing with longing at an upper shelf, surprised him out of his usual attention to details. The larder floor was sunk, and from the top of the unguarded steps it was the work of a moment for Jet to jump on to the opposite shelf. Here he proceeded to lift the wire covering from a couple of ducks, and not having made good his bearings previously, he was discovered busily employed by the kitchen authority, when she returned to close the door against intruders.
At this time it was a much disputed point between the respective owners of the collie and the spaniel as to which dog was the culprit in the matter of stealing toast from the breakfast table before any one was down in the morning. Jet’s exploit in the larder was held to settle the question, and he was gently cuffed and sternly spoken to on the subject. But Jet was not of those who suffer wrong patiently. The following morning an imperious little barking creature made his appearance in the kitchen and induced one of the maids to go with him to the dining room. Here the collie was found helping himself to toast, and it would be hard to say whether Jet or his mistress was the better pleased at the discovery.
Jet’s appearance gained him a great deal of attention, and added to his self-importance. His way of receiving any expression of admiration from strangers was quite his own. A blank, unseeing stare of haughty indifference came over him, and just the tip of a pink tongue suggested intentional rudeness if the attentions were too pressing. A quick look of intelligence at his own people that passed like a flash claimed their sympathy in his performance, and in this Jet was rarely disappointed.
As a young and very healthy dog, Jet had very keen senses and a good memory. His knowledge of locality was above the common, and though he travelled much he was never lost, either in town or country. If his mistress lost him, she knew it was wilful behaviour on his part, and that when the welcome call was heard at the door, a repentant mass of silky black hair would soon be asking pardon at her feet. Once, indeed, his owner thought he had strayed. She had taken him with her to stay at a friend’s house in a strange part of London, and they arrived at their destination in a thick fog. Almost immediately Jet demanded to be let out, and so insistent was he that at last the front door was opened for him. Straight out into the fog he rushed, and as time passed without his return his mistress gave him up for lost. But Jet, doubtless, had been satisfying a natural curiosity as to the nature of his surroundings, and in due course a calm little dog came back, as if thick fog and strange houses were a matter of no moment to him.
In the country the pleasures of a walk had nothing sedate about them. Jet hunted the country round, in spite of the drawbacks attached to his long love-locks. Often, when his short nose had to trace the scent, and the pace was hot, his beautiful ears would get under his front paws. But a silent somersault was all that happened; he paid no attention to the pain, in the eagerness of his pursuit. The larger dogs were always ready to follow up Jet’s discoveries, and though when they looked over stones or banks the tiny leader had to jump on the obstacles, he was always to the front.
Jet was always ready to lead his followers into mischief. If he did not fight himself, he liked seeing others fight, and was never tired of having the sheep chased in the park at his suggestion. A young collie was a great ally of his, and Jet was once watched as he collected a brood of young chickens and set the other dog to drive them into the river. At this point his owner intervened, and Jet was hurried away from the Highland farm where his exploit had taken place. Years afterwards, when Jet’s happy little life was ended, his mistress was again in the neighbourhood, and heard from the lips of a stranger staying at the farm the history of the little black dog’s mischievous performance, which on a former visit he had watched from a window.
When Jet and his mistress first went to live in the country, the latter began to keep chickens. These lived in a stable, and a small hole cut in the door let them in to nests and safety. There were great cacklings in the mornings, which raised their owner’s hopes high, but it was seldom indeed that an egg was found. Jet’s mistress, who was new to country occupations and was keenly interested in the success of her chickens, studied books on the subject, and watched her unsatisfactory hens with care. There was never a sign of a broken egg-shell about the place, and she therefore scouted the idea with scorn that Jet should be interested in the matter. One day, however, she called Jet to her when she had in her hand an egg that was to be cut up for her canaries. Jet came running up in answer to the call, but no sooner did he see the egg than he fell on his back, with waving paws in the air, a self-convicted criminal.
The question now was as to how the mischief had been wrought. Many were the theories suggested, but one after another they were all felt to be untenable. A few days afterwards Jet’s old friend the collie had to be fastened up, as a disagreeable neighbour had a still more disagreeable gamekeeper, and the latter threatened to shoot all dogs found on his land. This proved to be Jet’s undoing.
As soon as he was let out in the morning, Jet made his way to the stable, squeezed his small body through the door, and without destroying the friendly relations between him and the mothers, secured his morning feast of eggs. Leaving no trace of his meal, he was seen to come out, bearing a shell in his mouth, and look round for the collie. He then went back and brought away every remnant of shell that would have borne evidence against him. But no friendly collie came at his call to eat up the little pile of broken shell and thus bring the enterprise to its usual successful ending. Jet had done his part with all the finish of an accomplished conspirator, but the egg-shells remained as a witness against him. When his mistress paid her usual after-breakfast visit to the chicken yard, Jet showed no disposition to accompany her.
The tiny creature had a brave heart, and before he left his London home he saved the house from being robbed. Along the row of houses ran a parapet that led past some of the bedroom windows, of which Jet’s mistress’s room was one. While the family were downstairs at dinner, Jet was lying on the bed in this room. A man who came creeping along the parapet stopped at the window and prepared to effect an entrance. But Jet was on the alert, and springing from the bed he barked his loudest, thereby causing the burglar to move on, and in time bringing his family up to see what dire misfortune could have happened to him. But though resolute in doing his duty, Jet had no taste for acting guard, and never again would he be left alone in that room.
He was about two and a half years old when he first went with his family to the seaside. He had not seen the sea since he left his first home at the age of six months, but he greeted the sight of it as that of an old friend. His first performance was to lead a younger but much larger dog into difficulties over the slippery seaweed-covered rocks. To Jet’s slight form and active ways these presented no difficulty; but he insisted on the other dog following him until, the puppy’s strength and courage both failing, he came to a standstill in a spot perilously near the advancing waves. Then Jet was satisfied, and hastened back to his friends to tell them their assistance was needed. While he watched the rescue there was an air of self-possessed interest and innocent enjoyment about him that he always displayed on these occasions.
The hour of bathing was not one of unmixed enjoyment for Jet. He had no idea of risking his dainty form in the vast expanse of water, and resisted all invitations to join in his friends’ pleasure. But when he saw his mistress plunge into unknown dangers, he no longer hesitated. With a spring and a splash he resolutely faced the peril for himself, and swam out to her assistance. After this, Jet’s devotion was not put to the test again.
No one realised that the active little creature had passed the prime of life till an accident brought the sad fact home to his friends. He seemed to do no more than give a passing sniff at a dead rat, but the whiff of strychnine was enough to give him slight spasms and fits, from which it took him long to recover. Never again was Jet to enjoy life with the same irresponsible freedom that had marked his earlier days. When his sight began to weaken, he was very tetchy about its being noticed, for his ardent little spirit could not brook the restraining limits of a semi-invalid existence. Yet he lived to a good old age, and only left his many friends when sixteen summers had brought him the varied joys of which he had known how to make the most.