Chapter II: Part 2

Sir John and Lady Bull now thanked me very warmly for what I had done, and said a great many things which it is not worth while to repeat. I remember they were very pleasing to me then, but I am sure cannot be interesting to you now. After their thanks, Sir John began to talk to me about myself--about my parents--my wishes--what I intended to do--and what were my means? To his great surprise he learnt that parents I had none; that my only wishes were the desire to do some good for myself and others, and earn my meat; that I had no notion what I intended doing, and had no means whatever to do anything with. It may be believed that I willingly accepted his offer to watch over a portion of his grounds, to save them from the depredations of thieves, on condition of my receiving good clothes, plenty of food, and a comfortable house to live in. It was now my turn to be thankful. But although my heart was full at this piece of good fortune, and I could _think_ of a great many things to say to show my gratitude, not a single word could I find to express it in, but stood before them like a dumb dog, with only the wave of my tail to explain my thanks. They seemed, however, to understand it, and I was at once ordered a complete suit of clothes and everything fitted for my new position. I was also supplied with the most abundant supper I had ever had in my life, and went to rest upon the most delightful bed; so that before I went to sleep, and I do believe afterwards too, I kept saying to myself, "Job, Job, you have surely got some other dog's place; all this good luck can't be meant for you; what have you done, Job, that you should eat such meat, and sleep on so soft a bed, and be spoken to so kindly? Don't forget yourself, Job; there must be some mistake." But when I got up in the morning, and found a breakfast for me as nice as the supper, and looked at my clothes, which, if not so smart as some of the others, were better and finer than any I could ever have thought I should have worn, I was at last convinced, that although I was poor Job, and although I did not, perhaps, deserve all the happiness I felt, that it was not a dream, but real, plain truth. "As it is so," I said again, "I must do my duty as well as I am able, for that is the only way a poor dog like me can show his gratitude."

After breakfast, I accompanied Sir John to the place of my future home. A quarter of an hour's walk brought us to a gentle hill, which, similar to the one whereon the mansion itself was situated, sloped downwards to the water. One or two trees, like giant sentinels, stood near the top, and behind them waved the branches of scores more, while beyond for many a mile spread the dark mass of the thick forest of which I have more than once made mention. Nearly at the foot of the hill, beneath a spreading oak, was a cottage, a very picture of peace and neatness; and as we paused, Sir John pointed out the peculiarities of the position and explained my duties. It appeared that this part of his grounds was noted for a delicate kind of bird, much esteemed by himself and his family, and which was induced to flock there by regular feeding and the quiet of the situation. This fact was, however, perfectly well known to others besides Sir John; and as these others were just as fond of the birds as himself, they were accustomed to pay nightly visits to the forbidden ground, and carry off many of the plumpest fowl. The wood was known to shelter many a wandering fox, who, although dwelling so near the city, could not be prevailed on to abandon their roguish habits and live in a civilised manner. These birds were particularly to their taste, and it required the greatest agility to keep off the cunning invaders, for, though they had no great courage, and would not attempt to resist a bold dog, they frequently succeeded in eluding all vigilance and getting off with their booty. Often, too, a stray cur, sometimes two or three together, from the lowest classes of the population, would, when moved by hunger, make a descent on the preserves, and battles of a fierce character not seldom occurred, for, unlike the foxes, they were never unwilling to fight, but showed the utmost ferocity when attacked, and were often the aggressors. But those were not all. The grounds were exactly opposite that part of the city of Caneville known as the "Mews," and occupied by the cat population, who have a general affection for most birds, and held these preserved ones in particular esteem. Fortunately, the water that interposed was a formidable barrier for the feline visitors, as few pussies like to wet their feet; but, by some means or other, they frequently found their way across, and by their dexterity, swiftness, and the quiet of their movements, committed terrible ravages among the birds. When Sir John had told me all this, he led the way down the hill to the small house under the tree. It had two rooms, with a kennel at the back. The front room was the parlour, and I thought few places could have been so neat and pretty. The back was the sleeping-room, and the windows of both looked out upon the soft grass and trees, and showed a fine view of the river.

"This," said Sir John, "is your house, and I hope you will be happy in it yourself, and be of service to me. You will not be alone, for there"--pointing to the kennel at the back--"sleeps an old servant of the family, who will assist you in your duties."

He then called out "Nip," when a rumbling noise was heard from the kennel, and directly after a lame hound came hopping round to the door. The sight of this old fellow was not pleasant at first, for his hair was a grizzly brown and his head partly bald; his eyes were sunk, and, indeed, almost hidden beneath his bushy brows, and his cheeks hung down below his mouth and shook with every step he took. I soon found out that he was as singular in his manners as in his looks, and had such a dislike to talking that it was a rare thing for him to say more than two or three words at one time. Sir John told him who I was, and desired him to obey my orders; commanded us both to be good friends and not quarrel, as strange dogs were rather apt to do; and after some more advice left us to ourselves, I in a perfect dream of wonderment, and "Nip" sitting winking at me in a way that I thought more funny than agreeable.

After we had sat looking at one another for some time, I said, just to break the silence, which was becoming tiresome--

"A pretty place this!"

Nip winked.

"Have you been here long?" I asked.

"Think so," said Nip.

"All alone?" I inquired.

"Almost," Nip replied.

"Much work to do, eh?" I asked.

The only answer Nip gave to this was by winking first one eye and then the other, and making his cheeks rise and fall in a way so droll that I could not help laughing, at which Nip seemed to take offence, for without waiting for any farther questions he hopped out of the room, and I saw him, soon after, crawling softly up the hill, as if on the look out for some of the thieves Sir John had spoken of.

I, too, went off upon the watch. I took my way along the bank, I glided among the bushes, ran after a young fox whose sharp nose I spied pointed up a tree, but without catching him, and finally returned to my new home by the opposite direction. Nip came in shortly after, and we sat down to our dinner.

Although this portion of my life was, perhaps, the happiest I have ever known, it has few events worth relating. The stormy scenes which are so painful to the dog who suffers them, are those which are most interesting to the hearer; while the quiet days, that glide peacefully away, are so like each other, that an account of one of them is a description of many. A few hours can be so full of action, as to require volumes to describe them properly, and the history of whole years can be written on a single page.

I tried, as I became fixed in my new position, to do what I had resolved when I entered it; namely, my duty. I think I succeeded; I certainly obtained my master's praise, and sometimes my own; for I had a habit of talking to myself, as Nip so rarely opened his mouth, and would praise or blame myself just as I thought I deserved it. I am afraid I was not always just, but too often said, "Well done, Job; that's right, Job;" when I ought to have called out, "You're wrong, Job; you ought to feel, Job, that you're wrong;" but it is not so easy a thing to be just, even to ourselves.

One good lesson I learned in that little cottage, which has been of use to me all my life through; and that was, to be very careful about judging dogs by their looks. There was old Nip: when I first saw him, I thought I had never beheld such an ugly fellow in my life, and could not imagine how anything good was to be expected from so cross a looking, ragged old hound. And yet nothing could be more beautiful, more loveable than dear old Nip, when you came to know him well. All the misfortunes he had suffered, all the knocks he had received in passing through the world, seemed to have made his heart more tender; and he was so entirely good-natured, that in all the time we were together, I never heard him say an unkind thing of living or dead animal. I believe his very silence was caused by the goodness of his disposition; for as he could not help seeing many things he did not like, but could not alter, he preferred holding his tongue to saying what could not be agreeable. Dear, dear Nip! if ever it should be resolved to erect a statue of goodness in the public place of Caneville, they ought to take you for a model; you would not be so pleasant to look on as many finer dogs, but when once known, your image would be loved, dear Nip, as I learned to love the rugged original.

It can be of no interest to you to hear the many fights we had in protecting the property of our master during the first few moons after my arrival. Almost every night we were put in danger of lives, for the curs came in such large numbers that there was a chance of our being pulled to pieces in the struggle. Yet we kept steady watch; and after a time, finding, I suppose, that we were never sleeping at our post, and that our courage rose with every fresh attack, the thieves gradually gave up open war, and only sought to entrap the birds by artifice; and, like the foxes and cats, came sneaking into the grounds, and trusted to the swiftness of their legs rather than the sharpness of their teeth when Nip or I caught sight of them.

And thus a long, long time passed away. I had, meanwhile, grown to my full size, and was very strong and active: not so stout as I have got in these later years, when my toes sometimes ache with the weight which rests on them, but robust and agile, and as comely, I believe, as most dogs of my age and descent.

The uniformity of my life, which I have spoken of as making me so happy, was interrupted only by incidents that did not certainly cause me displeasure. I renewed my acquaintance with "Fida," no longer _little_ Fida, for she had grown to be a beautiful lady-dog. Our second meeting was by chance, but we talked like old friends, so much had our first done to remove all strangeness. I don't think the next time we saw each other was quite by accident. If I remember rightly, it was not; and we often met afterwards. We agreed that we should do all we could to assist one another, though what _I_ could do for so rich and clever a lady-dog I could not imagine, although I made the promise very willingly. On her part, she did for me what I can never sufficiently repay. She taught me to read, lending me books containing strange stories of far-off countries, and beautiful poetry, written by some deep dogs of the city; she taught me to write; and in order to exercise me, made me compose letters to herself, which Nip carried to her, bringing me back such answers as would astonish you; for when you thought you had got to the end, they began all over again in another direction. Besides these, she taught me to speak and act properly, in the way that well-behaved dogs ought to do; for I had been used to the company of such low and poor animals, that it was not surprising if I should make sad blunders in speech and manners. I need not say that she taught me to love herself, for that you will guess I had done from the first day I saw her, when I was wet from my jump in the river, and she spoke to me such flattering words. No; she could not teach me more love for herself than I already knew. That lesson had been learnt _by heart_, and at a single sitting.

Our peaceful days were drawing to a close. Sir John died. Lady Bull lived on for a short time longer. Many said, when she followed, that she ate herself to death; but I mention the rumour in order to deny it, for I am sure it was grief that killed her. It is a pity some dogs will repeat everything they hear, without considering the mischief such tittle-tattle may occasion--although it has been asserted by many that in this case the false intelligence came from the Cats, who had no great affection for poor Lady Bull. Whatever the cause, she died, and with her the employment of poor Nip and myself. The young Bulls who came into possession of the estate, sold the preserves to a stranger; and as the new proprietor intended killing off the birds, and did not require keepers, there being no longer anything for them to do, we were turned upon the world.

The news came upon us so suddenly, that we were quite unprepared for it; and we were, besides, so far from being rich, that it was a rather serious matter to find out how we should live until we could get some other occupation. I was not troubled for myself; for, though I had been used to good feeding lately, I did not forget the time when I was often forced to go the whole day with scarce a bit to eat; but the thought of how poor old Nip would manage gave me some pain.

Having bid adieu to the peaceful cottage, where we had spent such happy times, we left the green fields and pleasant trees and proceeded to the town, where, after some difficulty, we found a humble little house which suited our change of fortune. Here we began seriously to muse over what we should do. I proposed making a ferry-boat of my back, and, stationing myself at the waterside near the "Mews," swim across the river with such cats as required to go over and did not like to walk as far as where the boat was accustomed to be. By these means I calculated on making enough money to keep us both comfortably. Nip thought not. He said that the cats would not trust me--few cats ever did trust the dogs--and then, though he did not dislike cats, not at all, for he knew a great many very sensible cats, and very good ones too, he did not like the idea of seeing his friend walked over by cats or dogs, or any other animal, stranger or domestic. Besides, there were other objections. Strong as I was, I could not expect, if I made a boat of myself, that I could go on and on without wanting repair any more than a real boat; but where was the carpenter to put _me_ to rights, or take out _my_ rotten timbers and put in fresh ones. No; that would not do; we must think of something else.

It must not be imagined that Nip made all this long speech in one breath, or in a dozen breaths. It took him a whole morning to explain himself even as clearly as I have tried to do; and perhaps I may still have written what he did not quite intend, for his words came out with a jump, one or two at a time, and often so suddenly that it would have startled a dog who was not used to his manner.

Nip himself made the next proposal, and though I did not exactly like it, there seemed so little choice, that I at once agreed to do my part in the scheme. Nip was the son of a butcher, and though he had followed the trade but a short time himself, he was a very good judge of meat. He, therefore, explained that if I would undertake to become the seller, he would purchase and prepare the meat, and he thought he could make it look nice enough to induce the dogs to come and buy.

Our stock of money being very small, a house-shop was out of the question, so there was no chance of getting customers from the better class,--a thing which I regretted, as I had little taste for the society of the vulgar; but, again, as it could not be helped, the only thing to do was to make the best of it. A wheelbarrow was therefore bought by Nip, with what else was necessary to make me a complete "walking butcher," and having got in a stock of meat the day before, Nip cut, and contrived, and shaped, and skewered, in so quiet and business-like a way as proved he knew perfectly well what he was about. With early morning, after Nip had arranged my dress with the same care as he had bestowed upon the barrow and its contents, I wheeled my shop into the street, and amid a great many winks of satisfaction from my dear old friend, I went trudging along, bringing many a doggess to the windows of the little houses by my loud cry of "Me-eet! Fresh me-eet!"

As I was strange in my new business, and did not feel quite at my ease, I fancied every dog I met, and every eye that peeped from door and casement, stared at me in a particular manner, as if they knew I was playing my part for the first time, and were watching to see how I did it. The looks that were cast at my meat, were all, I thought, intended for me, and when a little puppy leered suspiciously at the barrow as he was crossing the road, no doubt to see that it did not run over him, I could only imagine that he was thinking of the strange figure I made, and my awkward attempt at getting a living. Feelings like these no doubt alarm every new beginner; but time and habit, if they do not reconcile us to our lot, will make it at least easier to perform, and thus, after some two hours' journeying through the narrow lanes of Caneville, I did what my business required of me with more assurance than when I first set out.

One thing, however, was very distasteful to me, and I could so little bear to see it, that I even spoke of it aloud, and ran the risk of offending some of my customers. I mean the _way_ in which several of the dogs devoured the meat after they had bought it. You will think that when they had purchased their food and paid for it, they had a right to eat it as they pleased: I confess it; nothing can be more true; but still, my ideas had changed so of late, that it annoyed me very much to see many of these curs, living as they did in the most civilized city in this part of the world, gnawing their meat as they held it on the ground with their paws, and growling if any one came near as though there was no such thing as a police in Caneville. I forgot when I was scolding these poor dogs, that perhaps they had never been taught better, and deserved pity rather than blame. I forgot too that I had myself behaved as they did before I had been blessed with happier fortune, and that, even then, if I had looked into my own conduct, I should have found many things more worthy of censure than these poor curs' mode of devouring their food.

The lane I was passing along was cut across by a broad and open street, the favourite promenade of the fashionables of Caneville. There might be seen about mid-day, when the sun was shining, troops of well-dressed dogs and a few superior cats, some attended by servants, others walking alone, and many in groups of two or three, the male dogs smoking cigars, the ladies busily talking, while they looked at and admired one another's pretty dresses and bonnets.

By the time I had got thus far, I had become tolerably used to my new work, and could imagine that when the passers-by cast their eyes on my barrow, their glances had more to do with the meat than with myself. But I did not like the idea of crossing the road where such grand dogs were showing off their finery. After a little inward conversation with myself, which finished with my muttering between my teeth, "Job, brother Job, I am ashamed of you! where is your courage, brother Job? Go on; go on;" I went on without further delay.

I had got half-way across, and was already beginning to praise myself for the ease with which I turned my barrow in and out of the crowd without running over the toes of any of the puppies, who were far too much engaged to look after them themselves when a dirty little cur stopped me to buy a penn'orth of meat. I set down my load just in time to avoid upsetting a very fat and splendidly dressed doggess, who must, if I had run the wheel into her back, and it was very near it, have gone head foremost into the barrow. This little incident made me very hot, and I did not get cooler when my customer squatted down in the midst of the well-dressed crowd, and began tearing his meat in the way I have before described as being so unpleasant. At the same moment another dog by his side, with a very ragged coat, and queer little face, held up his paw to ask for "a little bit," as he was very hungry, "only a little bit." I should, probably, have given him a morsel, as I remembered the time when I wanted it as much as he seemed to do, but for an unexpected meeting. Turning my head at a rustling just behind me, I saw a well-dressed dog, with a hat of the last fashion placed so nicely on his head that it seemed to be resting on the bridge of his nose, the smoke from a cigar issuing gracefully from his mouth, and his head kept in an upright posture by a very stiff collar which ran round the back of his neck, and entirely prevented his turning round his head without a great deal of care and deliberation, while a tuft of hair curled nicely from beneath his chin, and gave a fine finish to the whole dog. But though I have spoken of this Caneville fashionable, it was not he who caused the rustling noise, or who most attracted my attention. Tripping beside him, with her soft paw beneath his, was a lady-dog, whose very dress told her name, at least in my eyes, before I saw her face. I felt sure that it was Fida, and I wished myself anywhere rather than in front of that barrow with an ill-bred cur at my feet gnawing the penn'orth of meat he had just bought of me. Before I had time to catch up my load and depart, a touch on my shoulder, so gentle that it would not have hurt a fly, and yet which made me tremble more than if it had been the grip of a giant animal, forced me again to turn. It _was_ Fida; as beautiful and as fresh as ever, who gave me a sweet smile of recognition and encouragement as she passed with her companion, and left me standing there as stupid and uncomfortable as if I had been caught doing something wrong.

You will say that it was very ridiculous in me to feel so ashamed and disconcerted at being seen by her or any other dog or doggess in my common dress, and following an honest occupation. I do not deny it. And in telling you these things I have no wish to spare myself, I have no excuse to offer, but only to relate events and describe feelings precisely as they were.

THE INUNDATION.

That evening it seemed as if Nip and I had changed characters. It was he who did all the talking, while I sat in a corner, full of thought, and answered yes or no to everything he said, and sometimes in the wrong place, I am sure; for once or twice he looked at me very attentively, and winked in a way which proved that he was puzzled by my manner.

The reason of his talkativeness was the success I had attained in my first morning's walk, for I had sold nearly all the meat, and brought home a pocket full of small money. The cause of my silence was the unexpected meeting with Fida, and the annoyance I felt at having been seen by her in such a position. This was the first time I had set eyes on her for several days. When we left our pretty country lodging, I wrote her a letter, which Nip carried as usual to her house, but he was told that she had gone on a visit to some friends at a distance, but that the letter should be given to her on her return. I had not, therefore, been able to inform her of what we had been compelled to do, as I would have wished; but thus, without preparation, quite unexpectedly, I had been met by her in the public street, acting the poor dogs' butcher, with the implements of my business before me, and a dirty cur growling and gnawing his dinner at my feet. What made the matter more serious, for serious it seemed to me, though I can but smile _now_ to think why such a thing should have made me uncomfortable, was, that the whole scene had taken place in so open a part, with so many grand and gay dogs all round, to be witnesses of my confusion. I did not reflect that, of all the puppies who were strutting past, there was probably not one who could have remembered so common an event as the passing of a butcher's barrow; and if they looked at me at all, it was, doubtless, for no other reason than to avoid running against my greasy coat and spoiling their fine clothes. These confessions will prove to you that I was very far from being a wise dog or even a sensible one; all the books I had read had, as yet, served no other purpose than that of feeding my vanity and making me believe I was a very superior animal; and you may learn from this incident, that those who wish to make a proper figure in the world, and play the part they are called on to perform in a decent manner, must study their lesson in the world itself, by mingling with their fellows, for books alone can no more teach such knowledge than it can teach a dog to swim without his going into the water.

Nip and I had our dinner; and when it was over, my old friend went out to procure a supply of meat for the next day's business. I sat at the window with my nose resting on the ledge, at times watching some heavy clouds which were rolling up the sky, as if to attend a great meeting overhead; at another moment, looking at the curs in the streets, who were playing all sorts of games, which generally turned into a fight, and often staring at the house opposite without seeing a single stone in the wall, but in their place, Fidas, and puppies with stiff collars, and barrows with piles of meat, ready cut and skewered. I was awoke from this day-dream by the voice of an old, but very clean doggess, inquiring if my name was Mr. Job? I answered that I was so called, when she drew from her pocket and gave me a pink-coloured note, which smelt like a nice garden, and even brought one to my view as plainly as if it had suddenly danced before me, and saying there was no reply, returned by the way she had come.

I did not require to be told by whom it was sent. I knew the writing too well. The neat folding, the small but clean address assured me that a lady's paw had done it all, and every word of the direction--

+---------------------------------------+
| MASTER JOB, |
| |
| In the Little Dogs' Street, |
| |
| F. LOWER CANEVILLE. |
+---------------------------------------+

spoke to me of Fida, and did not even need the F. in the corner to convince me of the fact. With her permission, I here give you the contents:--

"MY DEAR JOB,

"I am sorry I was away from home when your letter arrived, and
would have told you I was going, but that I thought the news
might cause you pain, as I, by some mischance, had got my
tail jammed in a door, and was forced to leave home in order
to visit a famous doctor, who lives at some distance. He
fortunately cured me after a few days' illness, and the tail
wags now as freely as ever, although it was very annoying, as
well as ridiculous, to see me walking up and down the room
with that wounded member so wrapped up that it was as thick as
my whole body, and was quite a load to drag about.

"But, dear Job, I do not write this to talk about myself,
though I am forced to give you this explanation of my silence:
what I wish is to say something about _you_. And to begin, as
you have always been a good, kind dog, and listened to me
patiently when I have praised, you must now be just as kind
and good, and even more patient, because I am going to scold.

"Dear Job, when I met you this morning in your new dress and
occupation, I had not then read your letter. I had but just
returned, and was taking a walk with my brother, who had
arrived from abroad during my absence. I knew you at once, in
spite of your change of costume, and though I did not
particularly like the business you had chosen, I felt certain
you had good reasons for having selected it. But when I looked
in your face, instead of the smile of welcome which I expected
from you, I could read nothing but shame, confusion, and
annoyance. Why? dear Job, why? If you were _ashamed_ of your
occupation, why had you chosen it? I suppose when you took it
up, you resolved to do your duty in it properly; then why feel
_shame_ because _your friend_ sees you, as you must have
thought she would one day see you, since the nature of your
new business carries you into different parts of the city?

"But, dear Job, I feel certain, and I would like you to be
equally sure, that there is no need of _shame_ in following
any busines which is _honest_, and which can be carried on
without doing injury to others. It is not the business,
believe me, dear Job, which lowers a dog; _he himself_ is
alone capable of _lowering_ himself, and one dog may be truly
good and noble, though he drive a meat-barrow about the
streets, while another may be a miserable, mean animal, though
living in a palace and never soiling his paws.

"I have a great deal more to say, my dear Job, upon this
subject, but I must leave the rest till I see you. I have
already crossed and recrossed my note, and may be most
difficult to understand where I most want to be clear. Here is
a nice open space, however, in the corner, which I seize on
with pleasure to write myself most distinctly,

"Your friend,

"FIDA."

A variety of feelings passed through my mind as I read these lines. But they were all lost in my wonder at Fida's cleverness in being able to read my face, as if it had been a book. I was grateful to her for the good advice she gave me, and now felt ashamed for having been ashamed before. The best way I thought to prove my thankfulness would be to act openly and naturally as Fida had pointed out, for I could not help confessing, as my eyes looked again and again over her note, that she was quite right, and that I had acted like a very silly animal.

I was interrupted during my reflections by the bursting of rain upon the house-roofs, and the stream which rose from the streets as the large drops came faster and faster down. I went to the door to look for my old friend, but not a dog was to be seen. I was surprised at the sight of the sky where I had observed the clouds rising a little while before, for now those same clouds looked like big rocks piled one above another, with patches of light shining through great caverns.

As I stared eagerly down the street, torrents of water poured from above, which, instead of diminishing, seemed to be growing more terrible every moment. I had never seen so fearful a storm. It did not appear like mere rain which was falling; the water came down in broad sheets, and changed the road into a river. I got more and more anxious about old Nip. It was getting dark, and I knew he was not strong. My hope was that he had taken shelter somewhere; but I could not rest, for I was sure he would try and get home, if only to quiet me. While running in and out in my anxiety--the water having meanwhile risen above the sill of the door, and poured into our little house, where it was already above my paws--I spied a dark figure crawling along the street, and with great difficulty making way against the beating of the storm. I at once rushed out, and swimming rather than running towards the object, I found my poor friend almost spent with fatigue, and scarcely able to move, having a heavy load to carry besides his own old limbs, which were not fit to battle with such a tempest. I caught up his package; and assisting him as well as I was able, we at length got to our cottage, though we were forced to get upon the bench that stood by the wall to keep our legs out of the water. The rain had now become a perfect deluge. A stream of water went hissing down the street, and rushed in and out of the houses as if they had been baths.

When Nip recovered breath, he told me that terrible things were happening in the parts of the city by the waterside. The river had swollen so much, that some kennels had been carried away by the current, and it was impossible to learn how many poor dogs had been drowned. This news made me jump again from the bench where I had been sitting.

"What is it?" said Nip.

"I am going out, Nip," replied I. "I must not be idle here, when I can, perhaps, be of use somewhere else."

"That is true," said Nip; "but, Job, strong as you are, the storm is stronger."

"Yes, Nip," answered I; "but there are dogs weaker than myself who may require such assistance as I can give them, and it is not a time for a dog to sit with his tail curled round him, when there are fellow-creatures who may want a helping paw. So good-bye, old friend; try and go to sleep; you have done your duty as long as your strength let you, it is now for me to do mine." Without waiting for a reply, I rushed out at the door.

It did not need much exertion to get through our street or the next, or the next after that, for as they all sloped downwards, the water more than once took me off my legs, and carried me along. Sad as Nip's news had been, I was not prepared for the terrible scene which met my eyes when I got near the river. The houses at the lower part of the street I had reached had been swept away by the torrent, and a crowd of shivering dogs stood looking at the groaning river as it rolled past in great waves as white as milk, in which black objects, either portions of some kennel or articles of furniture, were floating. Every now and then, a howl would break from a doggess in the crowd, as a dead body was seen tossed about by the angry water; and the same dolorous cries might be heard from different quarters, mixed up with the roar of the river.

While standing with a group of three or four, staring with astonishment at the frightful scene, uncertain what to do, a howl was heard from another direction, so piercing that it made many of us run to learn the cause. The pale light showed us that the torrent had snapped the supports of a house at some distance from the river's bank, but which the swollen stream had now reached, and carried away at least half the building. By some curious chance, the broken timbers had become fixed for the moment in the boiling water, which, angry at the obstruction, was rushing round or flying completely over them; and it was easy to see that in a very short time the mass would be swept away. Upon the timbers thus exposed were three little pups scarce two months old, yelping most dismally as they crouched together, or crawled to the edge of their raft; while on the floor of the ruin from which this side had been torn away, was their poor mother, whose fearful howl had attracted us thither, and who was running from side to side of the shattered hut as if she was frantic.

Great as the danger was, I could not bear to think the wretched mother should see her little ones swallowed up by the stormy water, before her very eyes, without a single attempt being made to save them. Although I could scarcely hope even to reach them in safety, and in no case could bring more than one of them to land at once, if I even got so far, I resolved to make the trial. Better save one, I thought, than let all die.

Holding my breath, I launched into the current in the direction of the raft, and soon found that I had not been wrong in calculating the difficulties and dangers of the undertaking. It was not the water alone which made the peril so great, though the eddies seemed at every moment to be pulling me to the bottom, but there were so many things rushing along with the stream as to threaten to crush me as they flew by; and had they struck me, there is no doubt there would have been an end of my adventures. Avoiding them all, though I know not how, I was getting near the spot where the little pups were crying for their mother, when I felt myself caught in an eddy and dragged beneath the water. Without losing courage, but not allowing myself to breathe, I made a strong effort, and at last, got my head above the surface again; but where was the raft? Where were the helpless puppies? All had gone--not a trace was left to tell where they had been--the river foamed over the spot that had held them for a time, and was now rushing along as if boasting of its strength.

Seeing my intentions thus defeated, I turned my head towards the shore, resolving to swim to land. To my surprise, I found that I made no progress. I put out all my strength--I fought with the water--I threw myself forward--it was in vain--I could not move a paw's breadth against the current. I turned to another point--I again used every exertion--all was useless--I felt my tired limbs sink under me--I felt the stream sweeping me away--my head turned round in the agony of that moment, and I moaned aloud.

My strength was now gone--I could scarce move a paw to keep my head down the river. A dark object came near--it was a large piece of timber, probably a portion of some ruined building. Seizing it as well as my weakness would permit me, I laid my paws over the floating wood, and, dragging my body a little more out of the water, got some rest from my terrible labours.

Where was I hurrying to? I knew not. Every familiar object must have been long passed, but it was too obscure to make out anything except the angry torrent. On, on I went, in darkness and in fear--yes, great fear, not of death, but a fear caused by the strangeness of my position, and the uncertainty before me; on, on, till the black shores seemed to fly from each other, and the river to grow and grow until all land had disappeared, and nothing but the water met my aching eyes. I closed them to shut out the scene, and tried to forget my misery.

Had I slept? And what was the loud noise which startled me so that I had nearly let go my hold? I roused myself--I looked around--I was tossing up and down with a regular motion, but could see nothing clearly, I was no longer carried forward so swiftly as before, but the dim light prevented me making out the place I was now in.

Suddenly, a flash broke from the black clouds, and for a single moment shed a blue light over everything. What a spectacle! All around, for miles and miles and miles, was nothing but dancing water, like shining hills with milky tops, but not a living creature beside myself to keep me company, or say a kind word, or listen to me when I spoke, or pity me when I moaned! Oh! who could tell what I then felt, what I feared, and what I suffered! Alone! alone!

When I think, as I often do now, of that terrible scene, and figure to myself my drenched body clinging to that piece of timber, I seem to feel a strange pity for the miserable dog thus left, as it seemed, to die, away from all his fellows, without a friendly howl raised, to show there was a single being to regret his loss--and I cannot help at such times murmuring to myself, as if it were some other animal, "Poor Job! poor dog!"

I remember a dimness coming over my eyes after I had beheld that world of water--I have a faint recollection of thinking of Fida--of poor Nip--of the drowning puppies I had tried in vain, to save--of my passing through the streets of Caneville with my meat-barrow, and wondering how I could have been so foolish as to feel ashamed of doing so--and then--and then--I remember nothing more.

PAINS AND PLEASURES.

When I again opened my eyes after the deep sleep which had fallen upon me, morning was just breaking, and a grey light was in the sky and on the clouds which dotted it all over.

As I looked round, you may well think, with hope and anxiety, still nothing met my view but the great world of water, broken up into a multitude of little hills. I now understood that I was on the sea, where I had been borne by the rushing river; that sea of which I had often read, but which I could form no idea about till this moment.

The sad thought struck me that I must stop there, tossed about by the wind and beaten by the waves, until I should die of hunger, or that, spent with fatigue, my limbs would refuse to sustain me longer, and I should be devoured by some of the monsters of the deep, who are always on the watch for prey.

Such reflections did not help to make my position more comfortable, and it was painful enough in itself without them. It was certain, however, that complaint or sorrow could be of no service, and might be just the contrary, as the indulging in either would, probably, prevent my doing what was necessary to try and save myself should an opportunity offer.

The grey light, in the meantime, had become warmer and warmer in its tone, until the face of every cloud towards the east was tinged with gold. While I was admiring the beautiful sight, for it was so beautiful that it made me forget for a time my sad position, my eyes were caught by the shining arch of the rising sun, as it sprang all of a sudden above the surface of the sea. Oh! never shall I forget the view! Between me and the brilliant orb lay a pathway of gold, which rose, and fell, and glittered, and got at last so broad and dazzling, that my eyes could look at it no longer. I knew it was but the sun's light upon the water, but it looked so firm, that I could almost fancy I should be able to spring upon it, and run on and on until I reached some friendly country. But alas! there seemed little chance of such a thing happening as my ever reaching land again.

As the sun got high up, and poured his rays on to the sea, I began to feel a craving for food, and, though surrounded with water, yet the want of some to drink. When the thirst came upon me, I at first lapped up a few drops of the sea-water with avidity, but I soon found that it was not fit to drink, and that the little I had taken only made my thirst the greater. In the midst of my suffering, a poor bird came fluttering heavily along, as if his wings were scarce able to support his weight. Every little object was interesting to me just then, and as I sat upon my piece of timber I looked up at the trembling creature, and began comparing his fate with my own. "Ah, Job," I said, half-aloud, "you thought, perhaps, that you were the only unhappy being in the world. Look at that poor fowl; there he is, far away from land, from his home, from his friends, perhaps his little ones (for many birds have large families), with tired wings, and not a piece of ground as broad as his own tail for him to rest upon. He must go on, fatigued though he may be, for if he fall, nothing can prevent his death; the water will pour among his feathers, clog his wings, and not only prevent him ever rising more into the air, but pull him down until his life is gone. So, Job, badly off as you are just now, there is another, as you see, whose fate is worse; and who shall say that in other places, where your eye cannot reach, there are not others yet so very, very miserable, that they would willingly, oh! how willingly! change places with you, or with that poor fluttering bird?"

This talk with myself quieted me for a time, and I felt a certain joy when I saw the bird slowly descend, and having spied my uncomfortable boat, perch heavily on the other end of it. He did not do so until he had looked at me with evident alarm; and, worn out as he was, and his heart beating as though it would burst through his yellow coat, he still kept his eyes fixed upon me, ready to take wing and resume his journey, wherever he might be going, at the least motion I should make.

Some time passed over in this way; myself in the middle, and Dicky at the end of the beam. We did not say a word to each other; for, as I spoke no other language but my own, and he seemed about as clever as myself, we merely talked with our eyes.

A thought now came into my head. My thirst returned, and I felt very hungry. What if I should suddenly dart on little Dicky, and make a meal of him? I did not consider at the instant that, by so doing, I should be acting a very base part, for Dicky had placed confidence in me; and killing him for trusting to my honour, and eating him because he was poor and unfortunate, would be neither a good return nor a kind action. Luckily for Dicky, and even for myself, although he was not able to speak foreign languages, he could read my meaning in my eyes; for when I turned them slowly towards him, just to see my distance, he took alarm, and rose into the air with a swiftness which I envied. I am sorry to say my only thought at first was the having lost my dinner: but as I watched him through the air, flying on and on, until he diminished to a misty speck, and then disappeared, my better feelings came back to me and said, "Oh, Job! I would not have believed this of you!" "But," replied my empty stomach, "I am so hungry; without food, I shall fall in, and Job will die." "Let Job die," said my better self again, in a cold, firm tone; "let Job rather die, than do what he would live to feel ashamed of."

As the day wore on, I began to think that death only could relieve me; and the thought was very, very painful. Nothing before and around but the salt waves--nothing above but the blue sky and hot sun--not even a cloud on which to rest my aching eyes. The want of water which I could drink was now becoming terrible. When I thought of it, my head began to turn; my brain seemed to be on fire; and the public basins of Caneville, where only the lowest curs used to quench their thirst, danced before me to add to my torture; for I thought, though I despised them once, how I could give treasures of gold for one good draught at the worst of them just then.