But no owner of the dog answered and attempted to call it off, and the lookers-on were delighted to have the opportunity of seeing sport.
The dog, apparently a butcher’s brute, sprang about the bear, endeavouring to bite, and darting out of his way whenever Bruin struck at it with his fore-paws.
The woman gave up turning the handle of the hurdy-gurdy, and screamed at the dog to desist from irritating the bear, but it paid no attention to her words. Some fellows in the crowd shouted to the assailant to persevere and take a bite.
The conductor of the bear shortened the chain so as to obtain a portion wherewith to lash the dog, but he was as unsuccessful as his wife. These united attempts to drive it off served only the more to incense the dog and stimulate it against the bear. The man became angry as the young fellows encouraged the dog, and as the bear became unruly, and endeavoured to wrench the end of the chain from his hand, so as to have more scope for defending himself against his adversary.
Rose nudged Noah, and said in a whisper, “Knock her workbox from under her arm.”
Flood answered, “’Twould be a shame.”
“I won’t speak to you again if you don’t.”
“Heigh!” yelled Noah; “go it, Towser!”
“Is dat your dogue?” shouted the bearward.
“No, not mine,” answered Noah. “He looks a towser, that’s why I called him so. Go it, Towser!”