After leaving the cars, the most welcome sight that greeted our eager eyes was a roaring open fire in the hotel reception-room. We thought this a most excellent joke. They were very good to Bruno (for a consideration) at the hotel, but it was against their rules to allow dogs in the rooms, so he was installed in comfortable quarters outside. Julius went with him to make sure he was satisfied, and to see that he was watered, fed, and in good spirits before we had our own breakfast. On the way down, as ever before, Bruno had attracted much favorable notice. Women and girls exclaimed, "Oh, see that lovely dog!" And a number of men scraped acquaintance with Julius by admiring notice of his "Mighty fine dog!"
Bruno shrank from their attentions. He never made friends with strangers, no matter how much they tried to pet him; and he never ate anything offered to him by others unless we told him to. In fact, he was always very particular about appropriating food. Sometimes at home, when in a brown study, I placed his dish of food on the floor without saying anything; but he would never begin to eat until he had gained my attention by thrusting his nose into my hand, asking, "Is that mine?" by questioning glances directed from me to the dish; then, when I answered, "Yes; that's Boonie's; that's for Boonie," he would fall to and enjoy it.
We were glad of this trait; and we often thought that but for it he would, very early in his career, have fallen a victim to poison, for he was greatly feared by many timid people, especially by various grocer and butcher boys, who approached our premises with so many absurd precautions that it seemed to afford Bruno the greatest delight to keep them in a state of terror.
CHAPTER VIII
We made but a short stay in Jacksonville, then hurried on to St. Augustine, where a former acquaintance of Julius's was living with his family. We had to take a river steamer to Tocoi,—called Decoy by many, for obvious reasons,—then journey across to the coast on a tiny railway.
The steamboat on the St. John's was a first experience of the kind for Bruno, who seemed to enjoy it greatly, for the boat had but few passengers beside ourselves, and we went up and down stairs at will, making him several visits in his quarters on the lower deck.
Things were even more informal on the little railway. There was no one about when we boarded the train; so Bruno followed us into the passenger coach, crept under the seat, doubling himself up like a shut knife, and, totally effaced by the time the conductor came around, rode first-class for once. It seemed such a treat for us all to be together as we journeyed, that our short ride across from "Decoy" to the coast stands out in memory as the pleasantest part of the journey.
We were met at St. Augustine by Julius's friend, and, as he bore a pressing invitation for us from his family, we stopped that first day with them, so that they might have their fill of news from their friends and relatives whom we had seen just before starting to Florida.