NERO.
DOGS OF MY ACQUAINTANCE.
BY EDWARD I. STEVENSON.
Doubtless many of the readers of Young People who love dogs, and like to compare their own pets with other people's, attended the great Bench Show, as it is called, recently held in the American Institute Building, New York city. That great hall resounded with yelpings and barkings and whinings in every key. On either side of the passageways where the ladies and gentlemen elbowed about, examining and praising, were groups of stately Newfoundland dogs or dignified mastiffs, splendid St. Bernards, proud of the silver collars and chains adorning some of them, surly-looking English bull-dogs, or curious foreign hounds. Here a dozen ladies bent toward a row of little padlocked cages lined with satin or silk, where reposed daintily some tiny terrier, sleepy little pug, or graceful Italian greyhound. Somebody once called a greyhound a "parenthesis on four legs."
My own stroll through this tail-wagging assembly set me to remembering some dogs with whose acquaintance I have been honored. For are there not dogs whom, like people, it is an honor to know? First of all came to my mind Nero, whose picture you see above. Nero was a Berlin dog—is still, I hope. Strange to say, he spoke German no better than English, yet we became capital friends, and many a long romp have we had together on his master's lawn in —— Strasse. Nero is not merely a clever but a very rare dog. His wonderfully odd black coat gave him the first prize at a Berlin dog show as the most perfect specimen of a German "corded-coated" poodle there. Moreover, that same long hair curls naturally, and neither Nero nor his master spends any morning hours with the curling-stick.
Bruno is another dog of my acquaintance. He is a superb St. Bernard, and lives in New Jersey. In spite of his great size and strength, Bruno has the most lovely of dispositions. Here is an example. He has two other St. Bernards as playmates in his kennel, much younger dogs, but very lively, and huge romps the three have. Not long since, Gretchen, the smallest of this trio, misbehaved. Punishment was necessary. Poor Gretchen, trembling all over, was held down by her master, who leaned over her with whip upraised. Just at that instant he felt a gentle pressure from behind upon his shoulder, and turned to behold Bruno balancing himself on three legs, and holding out the fourth paw entreatingly, while with a most beseeching expression in his brown eyes he thus was trying to "beg off" his playmate from the whipping. Don't you think that you would have thrown the whip to the other end of the yard after that, and given Bruno a hug? That is what his master did, at any rate.