“Je suis un chien qui ronge l’ os,
En le rongeant je prends mon repos.
Un temps viendra qui n’ est pas venu
Que je mordrai qui m’ aura mordu.”[[1]]
[1]. The following is a free translation [Ed.].
“I am a dog that gnaws his bone,
And while he’s gnawing takes his rest;
In time not yet, but yet to come,
Who’s bitten me, I’ll bite with zest.”
“Hateful words,” said Dr. Camperdown, “and a hateful tragedy. When you go to Quebec, Judy, you’ll see the dog tablet there yet. But you needn’t go out of Halifax for Golden Dogs. Bitten ones there are here, plenty of them, gnawing bones and waiting a chance to bite back. You’ve got your own Golden Dog, you Armours,” he added under his breath.