"Come, Blathers," said he, "we'll go over to the Pud for awhile. You may find your friend Topsy there."
No sooner had he opened the door than Blathers scrambled down-stairs with that graceful motion peculiar to a terrier on urgent business; his hind-quarters shoved his head all the way down-stairs, and tripped over it at the bottom. He shot out of the door as if after a cat, whisked round the corner, and made straight for the Chapel. On the steps, however, he paused, for, at that moment, coming up the path from Memorial, he saw a sight that made his blood boil. Hudson and Dixey were strolling back from the Agassiz, and trotting ahead of them were Topsy and that abominable Mike Dixey. As has been mentioned before, Mike was a dog of very loose character. He would get intoxicated on beer whenever he could find any one to "set it up." He belonged nominally to Dixey, but was really a sort of dog-about-college. He would attach himself to any one whom he could work for crackers and beer. He did not mind spending the night on a door-step, and associated with all the street curs. He would hang around the public billiard-rooms and Foster's, and do tricks for sandwiches. Sometimes he would disappear on a spree for days, get caught by the muckers, and come home with a tin can in tow. Altogether he was no fit company for a lady, and when Blathers saw this low-lived animal walking with his Topsy, reverence for the spot could not restrain his indignation. Right in front of the Chapel door he insulted the Irish terrier, and before the men behind could come up, then and there the fight began. Rattleton, within, heard the sounds of conflict rise above the anthem, and, by some vague intuition, his blood ran cold. Another moment and Mike came flying up the aisle with yelps of pain, evidently seeking sanctuary. Blathers may have had a deep reverence for Appleton Chapel (barring the architecture), but his blood was up, and he did not stop to think. He pursued the flying foe, overtook and grabbed him again, just beyond Rattleton's pew, and alongside of that of a couple of magnates. Jack thought it would be better to remove those two dogs himself, and did so, one in each hand. But there was no use in pretending that he did not know to whom that scientific bull-terrier belonged. The men outside had some difficulty in persuading him that they were in no way responsible for the episode.
Mr. Blathers lived long and went to many places, but that was the only time he ever attended services in church.
A HOWARD AND HARVARD EVENING.
That evening at dinner Burleigh and Rattleton entertained the table with a glowing description of a new play they had seen on the previous night, at the Howard Athenæum. They were most enthusiastic about it.
"I can't understand," declared Burleigh, "how such a piece and such a troupe happened to drop into the old Howard. Such scenery! Why, the stage setting was the best I ever saw. One act was laid in the pine woods; you could look way through them, apparently, live birds flew about among the branches, and they must have burned some sort of balsam in the wings, for you could actually smell the pines."
"That's a new smell for the Howard," remarked Hudson.
"Yes, and those two girls!" added Jack Rattleton. "By Jove, wasn't that blonde a beauty!"
"The brunette was better," averred Burleigh. "How she did sing! They have splendid songs all through the play."