The donkey bends his head in a deprecating way below Betty's handsome neck, and the horse permits the companionship of an inferior with gentle tolerance. There is something very appealing about the donkey, a patient little beast of burden, meekly bearing his saddle. The bloodhound shows no little curiosity as to the shoeing process, as if it were something new to her. She sits on her haunches, thrusting her head forward, the long ears drooping, the sensitive nose sniffing the strange odors.
Among these dumb companions the blacksmith feels himself surrounded by friends. He is a lover of pets, as we see by the birdcage hanging in the window. His sturdy frame looks equal to the demands of his trade, which are in fact very laborious. It is grimy work, and only the roughest clothes can be worn. A big leather apron with a cut down the middle is, as it were, his badge of office. Our farrier does his work with conscientious earnestness, concentrating all his thought and energy upon each blow of the hammer. The task completed, he will take an honest pride in the good piece of work he has done for Betty.
It is interesting to know that old Betty's owner was Mr. Jacob Bell, an intimate friend and business adviser of Landseer.
III
SUSPENSE
A wounded knight has been brought home to his castle, and a line of blood-stains on the floor shows where he was carried through the hall to the room beyond. The family and servants press after, the door is closed, and the favorite hound is shut out in the hall alone. Only the meaningless murmur of voices, broken perhaps by the groans of his master, tells what is going on within. It is a moment of suspense, and the dog waits with drooping head, and eyes fixed mournfully on the barrier which separates him from the object of his devotion.[3] So alert is every sense that at the slightest touch upon the door he will spring forward and push his way in.
[3] A similar situation is described in the story of Bob, Son of Battle, where the shepherd dog waits in suspense outside the sickroom of his mistress.
It is some such story as this which the painter tells us in the picture called Suspense.[4] Every detail is full of meaning to the imagination. The heavy door, studded with great nails, calls to mind the old Norman castle; the gauntlets on the table and the plume on the floor suggest the armor of the mediæval knight. The picture is like an illustration for one of Scott's novels. Our knight may have been wounded, like Ivanhoe, in a tournament. The scene of the lists rises before us, the opposite lines of mounted knights charging upon each other with their lances, the shock of the meeting, the unhorsing of many, the blows of the battle axe upon helmet and coat of mail, and finally the entrance of the squires to bear their wounded masters to a place of safety.
[4] A pretty imaginary story is woven about the picture in Sarah Tytler's little book, Landseer's Dogs and their Stories.