Dog stories
particularly abounded with them; and not only the dogs of the
present but those of the past contributed their quota. 'But that
was naething,' Sim would begin: 'there was a herd in Manar, they
ca'd him Tweedie--ye'll mind Tweedie, Can'lish?' 'Fine, that!'
said Candlish. 'Aweel, Tweedie had a dog--' The story I have
forgotten; I dare say it was dull, and I suspect it was not true;
but indeed, my travels with the drove rendered me indulgent, and
perhaps even credulous, in the matter of dog stories. Beautiful,
indefatigable beings! as I saw them at the end of a long day's
journey frisking, barking, bounding, striking attitudes, slanting a
bushy tail, manifestly playing to the spectator's eye, manifestly
rejoicing in their grace and beauty--and turned to observe Sim and
Candlish unornamentally plodding in the rear with the plaids about
their bowed shoulders and the drop at their snuffy nose--I thought
I would rather claim kinship with the dogs than with the men! My
sympathy was unreturned; in their eyes I was a creature light as
air; and they would scarce spare me the time for a perfunctory
caress or perhaps a hasty lap of the wet tongue, ere they were back
again in sedulous attendance on those dingy deities, their masters-
-and their masters, as like as not, damning their stupidity.
Pages:
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138