When the game broke up, Major's master invited me to be present at a match-game of the "Lincolns," on the ensuing Saturday. The rival nines were made up of boys under thirteen, black and white, and Major. As I reached the ground, it was his inning, and his master, who claimed the privilege of striking for him, was at the bat. The dog was right behind with one paw in advance, and his eyes on the striker. In came the twisters, and Major made several false starts; but, finally, as the ball went scudding from the bat, off he rushed for first base, his ears flapping, his plumelike tail out straight behind. But the short-stop was too nimble for the dog, and just before he reached the base, the ball arrived there, and he came slowly back, his tail hanging low, and a very mournful expression in his great eyes.
"Maje's out,—side out!" cried the boys, and immediately conceiving a method by which he could retrieve this disaster, the dog seemed to regain his spirits, dashed into the field, and was speedily in his position as left-fielder, before any of the others had reached their places.
THE CURIOUSLY CLIPPED DOG MAKES A GOOD LEFT-FIELDER IN THE BASE-BALL NINE.
In the preliminary "pass around" that preceded the play, Major was not left out, and I saw that the balls that were thrown at him directly were quite as swift as those delivered from base to base; and in justice to him, I never saw him "muff." When a ball was thrown at him, he settled back, and dropped his great lower jaw, into which the projectile seemed to fit; then, with tail wagging, he would hasten to carry the ball to the next player. He was equally proficient with low balls, either catching them in his mouth or stopping them with his broad chest, and in fielding he could not be outdone. When he caught a ball, he carried it at full speed to the nearest thrower, and not a few players were put out by his quick motions and activity.
But perhaps the strangest part of it all was the delight and pleasure that Major took in the game. He showed it in every motion, speaking with his tail as well as his eyes and mouth, and I doubt if any of the boys had a greater interest in the sport.
Major's accomplishments were not confined to base-ball playing. He could perform numerous tricks, and understood, or pretended to understand, everything that was said; and if the gentleman in London who is so industriously endeavoring to teach dogs to talk, could only borrow Major, he might achieve success.
Major would take a ten-cent piece to the baker, and bring home a loaf of bread, and no such tricks as giving him the wrong change or a bogus loaf could be successfully played upon him by the neighbors. I was told that one day when given a counterfeit quarter, Major gravely bit it, smiled a contemptuous smile, and wagged his head in disapproval; but this I will not vouch for. He did so many wonderful things, however, that one would hardly be surprised at any feat attributed to him.
"How came you to clip him in such a fashion?" I asked of his master.
"Because he's so hopeful," answered my new acquaintance. "When we first came to town we were very, very poor. We're not so very rich now," he added, confidentially; "but in those times we had only a dollar or two at a time, for all of us, and Mother used to sit and cry, and you'd have thought there wasn't any hope for us. But Major was never discouraged. Whenever Mother began to cry, he'd walk up to her, and laugh, and show his teeth, and then she'd almost always look up and put her arms around his neck and say, 'Maje, your'e tryin' to cheer us up; you're doing your best; I know you are;" and it seemed to make us all hopeful-like. And he hadn't anything to be cheerful for, either. One day we were at our worst; there wasn't anything in the house; and cold! You wouldn't believe how cold it was, Mister! Maje had run out, and Mother was in the big chair, and I was ready to cry, because she looked so solemn; when there came a scratchin' at the door—and what d'ye s'pose? I pulled it open, and there was Maje with a basket in his mouth and a bundle tied on his back, and I never saw him more cheerful and hopeful in my life. Well, Mother broke out cryin', just at the time she ought to ha' been laughin', and she put her arms 'round Maje's neck. There was meat and cake and ever so much more in the basket, and it kept us from starvin'.