“Grinned like a fool, and asked me where my old man got that dust on his coat and hat.”
I whined eagerly. Oh, if I could only speak, and tell them it was cathedral dust. Rich people don’t know what sharp-eyed critics they have in their dogs, and cats and servants.
“I hope you gave him a smack,” said Annie.
“Bet yer life, didn’t I,” said Louis. “Says I, ‘Young feller, if my old man was out all night, he in no mischief were—he ain’t that colour—see!’ and I digged him under the ribs.”
Cook and Annie shrieked with laughter, and said they’d have their dig at the elevator boy too, then finally they all went to their work. Cook invited me politely to sit in the kitchen, but after my breakfast I ran to master’s room and sat on the window seat looking up and down the Drive. I waited for him till late in the afternoon. Then I knew he would be better pleased to have me taking the air, so I ran to the hall door, and barked till Annie opened it. The elevator boy took me down below, and the door-man let me out on the sidewalk.
It was a pleasant day with a brisk wind sweeping in off the Hudson. Many nurses and children were out, and many dogs. I knew all the canines in this neighbourhood by sight now, and had a speaking acquaintance with all those worth knowing. I ran into one of the little parks, and there saw a group of dogs without leashes who were standing talking together, and gazing at a Dachshund who was conceitedly staring in what he thought was the direction of Germany, but what was really Hoboken.
“Good afternoon, boys,” I said, “what’s the news?”
“We’re just deciding which of us shall have the pleasure of licking that hyphenated-American dog,” said a handsome, black French bulldog. “For days he’s been pushing that griffon Bruxelles about, and some of us think it’s time for us to stand up for the Belgian dog. To-day, the news of the war has been very good for the Germans, and the Dachshund has been positively unbearable.”
“I’d like to have the honour of settling him,” said an Irish wolfhound, “but the odds wouldn’t be even.”
A Scotch terrier bristled up, “I maunna, canna, winna yield the privilege to none. I hae it.”