Better Than Men

by Rush C. Hawkins

In pursuance of that understanding my friend handed me a package of keys, and requested me to take the boat that afternoon for Newport, to go to his house, to open his safe, to look over his letters and other papers, and to destroy such as I might think ought not to be preserved.

I arrived at Newport at one o’clock the next morning, and drove directly to his house. As I opened the front gate, a hundred feet or more from the front door of the house, his Irish setter dog “Charlie” came bounding down through the lawn to greet me. When he discovered I was not his master, he showed signs of great disappointment, but, when he came to realize that I was an old friend, he was better satisfied. The servants let me in, and I went to rest in the bed usually occupied by my absent friend, “Charlie” taking his usual place upon and at the foot of the bed.

In a seemingly short time,—about four o’clock, I was startled from a sound sleep by the most unearthly and weird moan I had ever heard. In a moment I discovered “Charlie” sitting up upon the bed with his nose pointed to the ceiling, in great agony of mind, pouring forth with all his strength the uncanny wails of a broken heart. I spoke to him, but did not succeed in quieting him until all the servants in the house came to the room to ascertain the cause of such an unusual disturbance.

At seven o’clock I received a message telling me my friend had passed away at ten minutes past four o’clock that morning.

During every moment of my entire stay at Newport, “Charlie” was always at my side, and could not be coaxed away from me, and, when I departed the next evening, he went with me to the wharf, and resisted our separation almost to the point of biting the servant who was to take him back to the house.

During the six weeks of his master’s absence, “Charlie” slept outside the front door, ready and hoping to greet his master whenever he might return, as was his custom, by one of the Sound steamboats.

I need not write that this unusual incident left a lasting impression upon my mind. I have never attempted to solve it and never shall, as I am quite satisfied that it was an example of natural phenomena entirely beyond my comprehension.

The chief character in this narrative, was a most quiet, dignified, and gentlemanly dog. During my six or seven years of intermittent intercourse with him, I never knew him to do an ungentlemanly act. He was a veritable Chesterfield among dogs, and his noble and gentle bearing was a model even for men. He was also the most beautiful of his race, perfect in his combination of colors, for he had many all perfectly blending into an artistic and harmonious whole. His intellectual qualities were quite in keeping with his physical beauties. His forehead was large, indicating a well rounded and well developed brain, which was deposited between a pair of the most beautiful large, soft, brown, and expressive eyes imaginable.

He had never been taught tricks of any kind, but, by the application of his natural understanding and constant reflective observation, had gradually developed a rare amount of exact intelligence in relation to many things. This rare intellectual development was largely due to his constant companionship with his master. In the field, the road, the stable, the bedroom, the dining-room, and at the table, he was usually addressed and treated like a human being. At the three daily meals he had his napkin adjusted to his neck, and sat at the right of his master, and I think it may be written of him that, although his table manners were of the dog sort, wherein the tongue played the most important part, they were unexceptional, and that he was never known to commit a breach of good table manners.

Next to his master, I was his oldest and most intimate friend. Often, when the former was away, I was left in charge as the head of the house; on such occasions “Charlie” would adopt me as a substitute for his master, but upon his master’s return he would leave me and resume his accustomed intercourse with the friend who, to him, was superior to all others. He walked with me whenever ordered to do so by his master, but not otherwise; I could not coax him even to a short promenade.