A Dog's Tale

by Mark Twain

　　IMy father was a St. Bernard, my mother was a collie, but I am aPresbyterian. This is what my mother told me; I do not know these nicedistinctions myself. To me they are only fine large words meaningnothing. My mother had a fondness for such; she liked to say them, andsee other dogs look surprised and envious, as wondering how she got somuch education. But, indeed, it was not real education; it wasonly show: she got the words by listening in the dining-room anddrawing-room when there was company, and by going with the children toSunday-school and listening there; and whenever she heard a large wordshe said it over to herself many times, and so was able to keep ituntil there was a dogmatic gathering in the neighborhood, then shewould get it off, and surprise and distress them all, from pocket-pupto mastiff, which rewarded her for all her trouble. If there was astranger he was nearly sure to be suspicious, and when he got hisbreath again he would ask her what it meant. And she always told him.He was never expecting this, but thought he would catch her; so whenshe told him, he was the one that looked ashamed, whereas he hadthought it was going to be she. The others were always waiting forthis, and glad of it and proud of her, for they knew what was going tohappen, because they had had experience. When she told the meaning ofa big word they were all so taken up with admiration that it neveroccurred to any dog to doubt if it was the right one; and that wasnatural, because, for one thing, she answered up so promptly that itseemed like a dictionary speaking, and for another thing, where couldthey find out whether it was right or not? for she was the onlycultivated dog there was. By-and-by, when I was older, she broughthome the word Unintellectual, one time, and worked it pretty hardall the week at different gatherings, making much unhappiness anddespondency; and it was at this time that I noticed that during thatweek she was asked for the meaning at eight different assemblages, andflashed out a fresh definition every time, which showed me that shehad more presence of mind than culture, though I said nothing, ofcourse. She had one word which she always kept on hand, and ready,like a life-preserver, a kind of emergency word to strap on when shewas likely to get washed overboard in a sudden way--that was the wordSynonymous. When she happened to fetch out a long word which had hadits day weeks before and its prepared meanings gone to her dump-pile,if there was a stranger there of course it knocked him groggy for acouple of minutes, then he would come to, and by that time she wouldbe away down the wind on another tack, and not expecting anything; sowhen he'd hail and ask her to cash in, I (the only dog on the insideof her game) could see her canvas flicker a moment,--but only just amoment,--then it would belly out taut and full, and she would say, ascalm as a summer's day, "It's synonymous with supererogation," or somegodless long reptile of a word like that, and go placidly about andskim away on the next tack, perfectly comfortable, you know, and leavethat stranger looking profane and embarrassed, and the initiatedslatting the floor with their tails in unison and their facestransfigured with a holy joy.And it was the same with phrases. She would drag home a whole phrase,if it had a grand sound, and play it six nights and two matinees, andexplain it a new way every time,--which she had to, for all she caredfor was the phrase; she wasn't interested in what it meant, and knewthose dogs hadn't wit enough to catch her, anyway. Yes, she wasa daisy! She got so she wasn't afraid of anything, she had suchconfidence in the ignorance of those creatures. She even broughtanecdotes that she had heard the family and the dinner guests laughand shout over; and as a rule she got the nub of one chestnut hitchedonto another chestnut, where, of course, it didn't fit and hadn't anypoint; and when she delivered the nub she fell over and rolled on thefloor and laughed and barked in the most insane way, while I could seethat she was wondering to herself why it didn't seem as funny as itdid when she first heard it. But no harm was done; the others rolledand barked too, privately ashamed of themselves for not seeing thepoint, and never suspecting that the fault was not with them and therewasn't any to see.You can see by these things that she was of a rather vain andfrivolous character; still, she had virtues, and enough to make up,I think. She had a kind heart and gentle ways, and never harboredresentments for injuries done her, but put them easily out of her mindand forgot them; and she taught her children her kindly way, and fromher we learned also to be brave and prompt in time of danger, and notto run away, but face the peril that threatened friend or stranger,and help him the best we could without stopping to think what the costmight be to us. And she taught us, not by words only, but by example,and that is the best way and the surest and the most lasting. Why, thebrave things she did, the splendid things! she was just a soldier;and so modest about it--well, you couldn't help admiring her, and youcouldn't help imitating her; not even a King Charles spaniel couldremain entirely despicable in her society. So, as you see, there wasmore to her than her education.IIWhen I was well grown, at last, I was sold and taken away, and I neversaw her again. She was broken-hearted, and so was I, and we cried; butshe comforted me as well as she could, and said we were sent into thisworld for a wise and good purpose, and must do our duties withoutrepining, take our life as we might find it, live it for the best goodof others, and never mind about the results; they were not our affair.She said men who did like this would have a noble and beautiful rewardby-and-by in another world, and although we animals would not gothere, to do well and right without reward would give to our brieflives a worthiness and dignity which in itself would be a reward. Shehad gathered these things from time to time when she had gone to theSunday-school with the children, and had laid them up in her memorymore carefully than she had done with those other words and phrases;and she had studied them deeply, for her good and ours. One may seeby this that she had a wise and thoughtful head, for all there was somuch lightness and vanity in it.So we said our farewells, and looked our last upon each other throughour tears; and the last thing she said--keeping it for the last tomake me remember it the better, I think--was, "In memory of me, whenthere is a time of danger to another do not think of yourself, thinkof your mother, and do as she would do."Do you think I could forget that? No.IIIIt was such a charming home!--my new one; a fine great house, withpictures, and delicate decorations, and rich furniture, and no gloomanywhere, but all the wilderness of dainty colors lit up withflooding sunshine; and the spacious grounds around it, and the greatgarden--oh, greensward, and noble trees, and flowers, no end! And Iwas the same as a member of the family; and they loved me, and pettedme, and did not give me a new name, but called me by my old one thatwas dear to me because my mother had given it me--Aileen Mavourneen.She got it out of a song; and the Grays knew that song, and said itwas a beautiful name.Mrs. Gray was thirty, and so sweet and so lovely, you cannot imagineit; and Sadie was ten, and just like her mother, just a darlingslender little copy of her, with auburn tails down her back, and shortfrocks; and the baby was a year old, and plump and dimpled, and fondof me, and never could get enough of hauling on my tail, and huggingme, and laughing out its innocent happiness; and Mr. Gray wasthirty-eight, and tall and slender and handsome, a little bald infront, alert, quick in his movements, businesslike, prompt, decided,unsentimental, and with that kind of trim-chiselled face that justseems to glint and sparkle with frosty intellectuality! He was arenowned scientist. I do not know what the word means, but my motherwould know how to use it and get effects. She would know how todepress a rat-terrier with it and make a lap-dog look sorry he came.But that is not the best one; the best one was Laboratory. My mothercould organize a Trust on that one that would skin the tax-collarsoff the whole herd. The laboratory was not a book, or a picture, or aplace to wash your hands in, as the college president's dog said--no,that is the lavatory; the laboratory is quite different, and isfilled with jars, and bottles, and electrics, and wires, and strangemachines; and every week other scientists came there and sat in theplace, and used the machines, and discussed, and made what they calledexperiments and discoveries; and often I came, too, and stood aroundand listened, and tried to learn, for the sake of my mother, and inloving memory of her, although it was a pain to me, as realizing whatshe was losing out of her life and I gaining nothing at all; for tryas I might, I was never able to make anything out of it at all.Other times I lay on the floor in the mistress's workroom and slept,she gently using me for a footstool, knowing it pleased me, for it wasa caress; other times I spent an hour in the nursery, and got welltousled and made happy; other times I watched by the crib there, whenthe baby was asleep and the nurse out for a few minutes on the baby'saffairs; other times I romped and raced through the grounds and thegarden with Sadie till we were tired out, then slumbered on the grassin the shade of a tree while she read her book; other times I wentvisiting among the neighbor dogs,--for there were some most pleasantones not far away, and one very handsome and courteous and gracefulone, a curly haired Irish setter by the name of Robin Adair, who was aPresbyterian like me, and belonged to the Scotch minister.The servants in our house were all kind to me and were fond of me, andso, as you see, mine was a pleasant life. There could not be a happierdog than I was, nor a gratefuller one. I will say this for myself, forit is only the truth: I tried in all ways to do well and right, andhonor my mother's memory and her teachings, and earn the happinessthat had come to me, as best I could.By-and-by came my little puppy, and then my cup was full, my happinesswas perfect. It was the dearest little waddling thing, and so smoothand soft and velvety, and had such cunning little awkward paws, andsuch affectionate eyes, and such a sweet and innocent face; and itmade me so proud to see how the children and their mother adored it,and fondled it, and exclaimed over every little wonderful thing itdid. It did seem to me that life was just too lovely to--Then came the winter. One day I was standing a watch in the nursery.That is to say, I was asleep on the bed. The baby was asleep in thecrib, which was alongside the bed, on the side next the fireplace. Itwas the kind of crib that has a lofty tent over it made of a gauzystuff that you can see through. The nurse was out, and we two sleeperswere alone. A spark from the wood-fire was shot out, and it lit on theslope of the tent. I suppose a quiet interval followed, then a screamfrom the baby woke me, and there was that tent flaming up toward theceiling! Before I could think, I sprang to the floor in my fright, andin a second was half-way to the door; but in the next half-second mymother's farewell was sounding in my ears, and I was back on the bedagain. I reached my head through the flames and dragged the babyout by the waistband, and tugged it along, and we fell to the floortogether in a cloud of smoke; I snatched a new hold, and dragged thescreaming little creature along and out at the door and around thebend of the hall, and was still tugging away, all excited and happyand proud, when the master's voice shouted:"Begone, you cursed beast!" and I jumped to save myself; but he waswonderfully quick, and chased me up, striking furiously at me with hiscane, I dodging this way and that, in terror, and at last a strongblow fell upon my left fore-leg, which made me shriek and fall, forthe moment, helpless; the cane went up for another blow, but neverdescended, for the nurse's voice rang wildly out, "The nursery's onfire!" and the master rushed away in that direction, and my otherbones were saved.The pain was cruel, but, no matter, I must not lose any time; he mightcome back at any moment; so I limped on three legs to the other endof the hall, where there was a dark little stairway leading up into agarret where old boxes and such things were kept, as I had heard say,and where people seldom went. I managed to climb up there, then Isearched my way through the dark among the piles of things, and hid inthe secretest place I could find. It was foolish to be afraid there,yet still I was; so afraid that I held in and hardly even whimpered,though it would have been such a comfort to whimper, because thateases the pain, you know. But I could lick my leg, and that did mesome good.For half an hour there was a commotion down-stairs, and shoutings,and rushing footsteps, and then there was quiet again. Quiet for someminutes, and that was grateful to my spirit, for then my fears beganto go down; and fears are worse than pains,--oh, much worse. Thencame a sound that froze me! They were calling me--calling me byname--hunting for me!It was muffled by distance, but that could not take the terror out ofit, and it was the most dreadful sound to me that I had ever heard. Itwent all about, everywhere, down there: along the halls, through allthe rooms, in both stories, and in the basement and the cellar; thenoutside, and further and further away--then back, and all about thehouse again, and I thought it would never, never stop. But at last itdid, hours and hours after the vague twilight of the garret had longago been blotted out by black darkness.Then in that blessed stillness my terror fell little by little away,and I was at peace and slept. It was a good rest I had, but I wokebefore the twilight had come again. I was feeling fairly comfortable,and I could think out a plan now. I made a very good one; which was,to creep down, all the way down the back stairs, and hide behind thecellar door, and slip out and escape when the iceman came at dawn,while he was inside filling the refrigerator; then I would hide allday, and start on my journey when night came; my journey to--well,anywhere where they would not know me and betray me to the master. Iwas feeling almost cheerful now; then suddenly I thought, Why, whatwould life be without my puppy!That was despair. There was no plan for me; I saw that; I must staywhere I was; stay, and wait, and take what might come--it was not myaffair; that was what life is--my mother had said it. Then--well, thenthe calling began again! All my sorrows came back. I said to myself,the master will never forgive. I did not know what I had done to makehim so bitter and so unforgiving, yet I judged it was something a dogcould not understand, but which was clear to a man and dreadful.They called and called--days and nights, it seemed to me. So long thatthe hunger and thirst near drove me mad, and I recognized that I wasgetting very weak. When you are this way you sleep a great deal, and Idid. Once I woke in an awful fright--it seemed to me that the callingwas right there in the garret! And so it was: it was Sadie's voice,and she was crying; my name was falling from her lips all broken, poorthing, and I could not believe my ears for the joy of it when I heardher say,"Come back to us--oh, come back to us, and forgive--it is all so sadwithout our--"I broke in with _such_ a grateful little yelp, and the next momentSadie was plunging and stumbling through the darkness and the lumberand shouting for the family to hear, "She's found! she's found!"The days that followed--well, they were wonderful. The mother andSadie and the servants--why, they just seemed to worship me. Theycouldn't seem to make me a bed that was fine enough; and as for food,they couldn't be satisfied with anything but game and delicacies thatwere out of season; and every day the friends and neighbors flocked into hear about my heroism--that was the name they called it by, and itmeans agriculture. I remember my mother pulling it on a kennel once,and explaining it that way, but didn't say what agriculture was,except that it was synonymous with intramural incandescence; anda dozen times a day Mrs. Gray and Sadie would tell the tale tonew-comers, and say I risked my life to save the baby's, and both ofus had burns to prove it, and then the company would pass me aroundand pet me and exclaim about me, and you could see the pride in theeyes of Sadie and her mother; and when the people wanted to knowwhat made me limp, they looked ashamed and changed the subject, andsometimes when people hunted them this way and that way with questionsabout it, it looked to me as if they were going to cry.And this was not all the glory; no, the master's friends came, a wholetwenty of the most distinguished people, and had me in the laboratory,and discussed me as if I was a kind of discovery; and some of themsaid it was wonderful in a dumb beast, the finest exhibition ofinstinct they could call to mind; but the master said, with vehemence,"It's far above instinct; it's _reason_, and many a man, privilegedto be saved and go with you and me to a better world by right of itspossession, has less of it than this poor silly quadruped that'sforeordained to perish"; and then he laughed, and said, "Why, look atme--I'm a sarcasm! Bless you, with all my grand intelligence, the onlything I inferred was that the dog had gone mad and was destroying thechild, whereas but for the beast's intelligence--it's _reason_, I tellyou!--the child would have perished!"They disputed and disputed, and _I_ was the very centre and subject ofit all, and I wished my mother could know that this grand honor hadcome to me; it would have made her proud.Then they discussed optics, as they called it, and whether a certaininjury to the brain would produce blindness or not, but they could notagree about it, and said they must test it by experiment by-and-by;and next they discussed plants, and that interested me, because in thesummer Sadie and I had planted seeds--I helped her dig the holes, youknow,--and after days and days a little shrub or a flower came upthere, and it was a wonder how that could happen; but it did, and Iwished I could talk,--I would have told those people about it andshown them how much I knew, and been all alive with the subject; but Ididn't care for the optics; it was dull, and when they came back to itagain it bored me, and I went to sleep.Pretty soon it was spring, and sunny and pleasant and lovely, and thesweet mother and the children patted me and the puppy good-bye, andwent away on a journey and a visit to their kin, and the master wasn'tany company for us, but we played together and had good times, and theservants were kind and friendly, so we got along quite happily andcounted the days and waited for the family.And one day those men came again, and said now for the test, and theytook the puppy to the laboratory, and I limped three-leggedly along,too, feeling proud, for any attention shown the puppy was a pleasureto me, of course. They discussed and experimented, and then suddenlythe puppy shrieked, and they set him on the floor, and he wentstaggering around, with his head all bloody, and the master clappedhis hands, and shouted:"There, I've won--confess it! He's as blind as a bat!"And they all said,"It's so--you've proved your theory, and suffering humanity owes youa great debt from henceforth," and they crowded around him, and wrunghis hand cordially and thankfully, and praised him.But I hardly saw or heard these things, for I ran at once to my littledarling, and snuggled close to it where it lay, and licked the blood,and it put its head against mine, whimpering softly, and I knew inmy heart it was a comfort to it in its pain and trouble to feel itsmother's touch, though it could not see me. Then it drooped down,presently, and its little velvet nose rested upon the floor, and itwas still, and did not move any more.Soon the master stopped discussing a moment, and rang in the footman,and said, "Bury it in the far corner of the garden," and then went onwith the discussion, and I trotted after the footman, very happy andgrateful, for I knew the puppy was out of its pain now, because it wasasleep. We went far down the garden to the furthest end, where thechildren and the nurse and the puppy and I used to play in the summerin the shade of a great elm, and there the footman dug a hole, and Isaw he was going to plant the puppy, and I was glad, because it wouldgrow and come up a fine handsome dog, like Robin Adair, and be abeautiful surprise for the family when they came home; so I tried tohelp him dig, but my lame leg was no good, being stiff, you know, andyou have to have two, or it is no use. When the footman had finishedand covered little Robin up, he patted my head, and there were tearsin his eyes, and he said, "Poor little doggie, you SAVED _his_ child."I have watched two whole weeks, and he doesn't come up! This lastweek a fright has been stealing upon me. I think there is somethingterrible about this. I do not know what it is, but the fear makes mesick, and I cannot eat, though the servants bring me the best of food;and they pet me so, and even come in the night, and cry, and say,"Poor doggie--do give it up and come home; _don't_ break our hearts!"and all this terrifies me the more, and makes me sure something hashappened. And I am so weak; since yesterday I cannot stand on my feetany more. And within this hour the servants, looking toward the sunwhere it was sinking out of sight and the night chill coming on, saidthings I could not understand, but they carried something cold to myheart."Those poor creatures! They do not suspect. They will come home inthe morning, and eagerly ask for the little doggie that did the bravedeed, and who of us will be strong enough to say the truth to them:'The humble little friend is gone where go the beasts that perish.'"