Scottie and his lady

Front matter

REFERENCE LIBRARY OF HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY

2 Park STREET, BosTon

NOT TO BE TAKEN FROM THE SHELVES — EXCEPT BY PERMISSION OF THE LIBRARIAN

Book I— The Kennels

I. Tae Beernnine or Wispom ° ° II. SPRINGTIME . 4 ° . ° ° III. DisaAPPOINTMENT . ¢ é ‘ 3 IV. Success. amet. ° ; a ae Vi Bree). ; ° e . ‘ ° VI. Vrxen’s Story. , ; ‘ .

VII. Goop-By to Op FRIENDs . ° ‘ BOOK II— HOME VIII. Scorrre Finps THE DesIRED ONE : IX. Tae Day or Rest X. Scorrme MAKES A VISIT : : XI. New FRIENDS : : é 5 XII. THe Crosep Door : 4 : : XIII. Scorrre tro THE Rescue . ° ‘ XIV. Hormays .. : ; : : e XV. Voices oF THE NIGHT . P ; BOOK III—THE WANDERER XVI. A STRANGER IN A STRANGE LAND XVII. A Frrenp 1x NEED XVIII. THe Mourners. : ; ° -

XXII.

XXIII.

XXIV.

XXV.

XXXVI.

CONTENTS

. THe Waurte Door . “THE WELL-MEANING BUT IGNORANT”? >. &

LIFE ON THE STREETS .

WHERE Doctors DISAGREE.

Two SIDEs OF THE CITY New FRIENDS AND OLD

Home AGAIN.

e

. 271

ILLUSTRATIONS

HE LEFT THEM AT THE FOOT OF THE STAIRCASE

(page 54) tj. : ° : : : ‘ . Frontispiece ScoTTIE . 4 : : ; , ? é . Title-page *“ Wr’VE BEEN TO CHRISTMAS-TREE LAND” . e120

SUPPER WAS DIVIDED BETWEEN THE TWO WITH NICE EXACTITUDE . : : ; } : ; ou Gge

ONCE MORE HIS LADY’S ARMS WERE AROUND HIM . ae gs

BOOK I THE KENNELS

J

THE BEGINNING OF WISDOM

“GET out, you little pryin’, pesterin’ pup, you!”

A woman’s harsh voice broke discordantly on the crisp morning air, and a woman’s broom-wielding arm swept a small object dexterously through the kitchen doorway. A fluffy yellow ball rolled down the steps and fell in a soft heap on the path below. Presently it struck out four very shaky paws, scrambled upon them, and stood peering up at the scene of disaster with gentle, bewildered eyes. —

When Scottie’s brothers knocked him down in rough play they always sniffed him over anxiously to make sure no harm was done. So he now stood with head raised and ears pricked expectantly forward, waiting for the aggressor to appear and explain herself. Apparently, however, she must belong to some superior class which deems an apology unnecessary. She did not return, and a vigorous sound of sweeping suggested to Scottie that a wise dog would not risk a repetition of an unsuccessful experiment. After a few rather lonesome attempts at play, he cuddled down in a snug corner by the steps, and was soon asleep.

This was Scottie’s first view of the world. Hitherto his life had been spent within narrow kennel walls. There was a door leading from a compartment into a small yard, where on pleasant days he romped with his brothers. The yard was inclosed by a slatted fence which the venturesome might climb with their hind feet braced on a low cross board. Between the slats were inviting cracks through which they could try to wriggle their fat bodies. This was an endless source of amusement to the three puppies, but Scottie was the weakest of the trio and could not climb as high as the others. ‘When they all fell backwards, as they invyariably did, he always found himself at the bottom of the pile. After the mass of yellow and

THE BEGINNING OF WISDOM 5 white fluff had disentangled itself he would run to his mother, who constantly was watching them. He never complained of his brothers’ rough treatment, and she never reproached them for it. She simply sat ready to help if needed, and to nose Scottie over before encouraging him to go on with his play. Scottie’s earliest remembrance was of this rough-andtumble game in the sunny yard, and of resting cuddled up to his mother when the scrimmage grew too intense.

One day was scarcely distinguishable from another in this quiet, well-ordered life where playing, eating, and sleeping followed each other in regular succession, until at last the time came when the puppies were to catch their first glimpse of the world. It was upon this occasion also that Scottie received his name.

Early in the morning of his adventure with the broomstick, the keeper of the kennels and a strange man came into the pen. The stranger, who had keen eyes and a protruding under jaw, cast one sweeping glance at Scottie, then turned contemptuously to the keeper.

“That’s no show dog!” he said. “ You ail never eet no medals off of him.”

“T know it,” the keeper answered with regret in his voice. “ You’re an odd one,” he said, patting the puppy not unkindly. “ You’re no credit to the best collie blood in the country. You can’t be registered under a family name. This here is Bruce, and this Rob Roy II,” he said, designating the other two puppies. “They ’ll have to win the prizes for the family.”

“ They ’re all right !”’ the stranger said, turning a professional eye upon the puppies’ broad chests and long noses; then he gave a dismissing glance at the outcast, who had crowded up against his mother for comfort.

“You’ll have to call him Scottie, I guess,” he said jocosely, “to show that he’s got any Scotch blood in him at all.” ;

When their inspection was finished, the keeper lifted all the puppies over the fence. Their mother sprang out after them, fondling them anxiously, then running back to lick her master’s hand, whimpering softly.

“ Leave ’em alone, Bess, old girl!” ” he said.

THE BEGINNING OF WISDOM 7

“‘ Let ’em take care of themselves. We’ll watch ’em at a safe distance.”

So he led her away, but she ran back several times before she could be persuaded to follow him. |

This was a wonderful new world which suddenly had opened for the three puppies. They thrust their heads in air, sniffing the strong fresh breeze, then they capered about, knocking each other down with clumsy, velvety paws, and rolling over and over together in the soft grass.

As usual Scottie was underneath, and when he at last got upon his feet, very shaky and breathless, it was to see Bruce and Rob Roy disappearing over the crest of the hill, cantering side by side like a harnessed team. Scottie started in pursuit, but the open country stretching before him was too vast and lonely. His legs wobbled uncertainly and he sank down in the driveway, which somehow seemed more homelike, forlorn and dejected. Nobody came, so after a while he started upon a tour of his own. He saw a narrow, safe-seeming path and followed it patiently, now and then sitting down to rest when his legs gave out unexpectedly. At length a big building loomed before him, and a friendly open door. Scottie clambered up the steps, pushing with his hind feet as he had learned to do in the pen, and clutching frantically with his fore paws. Finally after many set-backs he gained the top, and sat waiting in the doorway, a tired, wistful little object. Soon he heard approaching footsteps, and he wriggled his fat body in friendly expectation. Then it was that the broom-woman came, and swept him out as though he were a lump of dirt.

Scottie slept peacefully in the sun. Suddenly his dreams were rudely broken by a scuffling sound on the gravel. He tumbled to his feet, fearing an attack from above, but it was only his brothers returning from their expedition. They were full of excitement, and pressed up against Scottie with their heads laid flat to his while they told him all the wonderful things they had seen and done.

“ And we’re tired of the pen,” finished Bruce,

THE BEGINNING OF WISDOM 9 who an hour before had played there in perfect contentment. “ We’re going to live outside now; so will you if you’re any good.”

Instead of being weary after their run, they seemed to have acquired new strength in their sturdy limbs. They made rushes at Scottie, then raced about him in widening circles, and when he sank down to rest they closed in upon him and rolled him over. It was the roughest scrimmage that Scottie ever had known. In the midst of it, the keeper, the broom-woman, who proved to be his wife, and their small boy appeared with Bess, an anxious and quivering spectator, at their heels. She would have rescued Scottie, but was stopped by her master. “Let them be!” he said. “Let’s see if he’s good for anything.”

So Scottie kept at it, though all the wind seemed knocked out of his fat sides, and his mouth was full of choking fur.

At last Bruce and Rob Roy had enough of it, and they all sank down in a soft mass together. Then the keeper picked them up in his arms and bundled them unceremoniously back into the pen. Bess capered joyfully before them.

Bruce and Rob Roy had much to talk over about their adventures, but Scottie was glad to cuddle up to his mother and fall asleep with - his head against her soft breast.

II Springtime

THE early spring days were happy ones for Scottie. Although his brothers grew daily more independent and less friendly, his mother never changed, and when let out of the kennels they were allowed to ramble over the big place together. Those were free, careless days when after scampering over the hillsides they took a plunge in the cooling brook, then stretched out in the warm sunshine to rest and perhaps to catch a short nap.

Bess taught Scottie how to shake himself after his bath, then to race in circles over the short grass until his coat was dry and glossy. Scottie imitated everything that his mother did. He fitted his stride to hers as they trotted side by side on the grass, or broke into a clumsy canter in imitation of her graceful lope. Gradually, as he became sure of his legs, his gait grew more like hers. He noted the level at whicii she held her delicate head and how she carried her tail, a waving plume, straight behind her. All this he learned to do, awkwardly at first but with sure and steady improvement. He thought that perhaps if he learned and put in practice all that his mother could teach him, he might in time equal his brothers and not be a disgrace to his family after all. So he kept happily and persistently at work.

Sometimes in their rambles they would start up a rabbit and chase it squealing to its lair. Usually Bess held back a little and urged Scottie forward, but his wobbly legs never could overtake the rabbit, which would hop cheerfully into its hole. Once, however, Bess shot in ahead, caught the rabbit deftly by the neck, and with a quick shake snapped its back, after it had uttered but one imploring shriek. It lay at their feet, wet and limp, and Bess turned it over with her nose and showed Scottie how to make sure it was quite dead. Scottie felt very proud of his mother and said so, but she answered him rather sadly that she was

SPRINGTIME 13 growing old and stiff for that kind of sport. She had done this for him because she considered it a necessary part of his training.

“Oh, you’ll be good for many a rabbit hunt yet!” Scottie answered her cheerily.

There were of course other dogs at the kennels, some of whom were friendly and some quite the reverse. Scottie’s mother, having a sweet disposition, was on good terms with almost every one. She had, however, one enemy, — Vixen, a collie of about her own size and color. The feud was one which Scottie did not understand and which his mother never had . explained to him, but he believed that it had arisen out of some old jealousy. Whenever they met they would approach each other with stiffened legs and bristling backs, and Scottie would look in wonderment at his mother’s usually gentle mouth curled into an ugly snarl.

“Why don’t you give it to her?” Scottie asked Bess after one of these encounters. He had been circling around, anxiously watching the manceuvres of the two, who finally had stalked away in opposite directions. Each with .

an alert eye covered the retreat of the other to guard against a possible renewal of attack.

“My son,” Bess answered him solemnly, “never provoke a fight, but if you are once in, never let go.” |

This maxim Scottie pondered and took to heart. Meantime he learned to bristle his hair, to stiffen his legs, and to straighten his tail, feeling sure that some day it would be required of him to fight his mother’s battle with the yellow collie. |

Soon after this, for Scottie was fast growing up, he and his brothers began to have daily training by the keeper of the kennels. This confining work was irksome to him after the free life he had led with his mother, and though he was taught to fetch and carry, to charge and come to heel, it all seemed dull in comparison with his mother’s teachings. Also when he was stupid the keeper punished him roughly, while his mother always had shown him patiently how to improve his mistakes.

Once when the puppies were left by their master’s command to await his return, the small

SPRINGTIME: 15 boy inveigled Scottie away to play with hin, and when the keeper returned he whipped Scottie soundly for his disobedience. The dog gazed reproachfully at the small boy, but the child would not confess his misdeed and evidently considered it a huge joke to have so neatly avoided punishment.

Scottie crept to his mother afterwards and poured out to her his feelings about the injustice of mankind.

“They’re stronger than we,” he told her, “and so they think they must bully us.”

“Not always,” his mother answered him. «¢ Sometimes they are our best friends. I had a dear master once, but that was long ago.”

“What happened ?” Scottie asked, pressing his cool nose against her cheek.

“He went away, and his family lost their money, and they sold me to this keeper. He’s not a bad master, but it’s a pretty hard life just having puppies and losing them over and over again. I’m growing old too, and I only hope that when I’m no more use to them, they ll put me out of the way. It’s hard for old dogs who have lived a faithful life to linger on , when their day is done.”

Scottie did not understand quite all this, but he knew that his mother was sad and needed comfort, so he snuggled up to her and pressed his nose against hers.

“T hope,” Bess continued, “that you will some day have a loving master or mistress, for there is no greater happiness than that for a dog.”

“Tsn’t there?” Scottie asked vaguely. Nothing in his experience had taught him the kindness of human beings. His mother was the best friend he had. Besides, he was daily training himself so that he might some day surprise them and compete with his brothers for the honor of his family.

I]

DISAPPOINTMENT

WHEN the puppies were eight months old, the man with the keen eyes and the square jaw came again to see them. Bruce and Rob Roy had grown into broad-chested, strong-limbed fellows, larger than their mother, and even Scottie had made wonderful development. This apparently impressed the keeper so favorably that when he called the dogs out to be inspected he added carelessly, “Come along, Scottie. We may as well find out what he thinks of you.”

Scottie trotted cheerfully in the rear. He was not envious.of his handsome brothers. He knew well he was not their equal. He only hoped that he might pass muster so not to be a family disgrace. He watched eagerly as the man knelt before the two dogs, the better to note each fine point: the broad brow and long, delicate nose, the deep chest, the slender, muscular legs, the plumy tail; then he ran his fingers through the yellow coat, each hair of which was fine and smooth as silk.

“The two best collies I’ve seen this long time,” he pronounced. “They ’ll beat their sire.”

Bruce and Rob Roy stood in dignified silence, but Scottie, who hitherto had kept in the background, now capered up to them to offer his congratulations. The name of their father, whom they never had seen, because he always was traveling from show to show, was a name to conjure with at the kennels.

At this movement the stranger noticed Scottie for the first time. “Why! here’s the little feller!” he exclaimed. “ He’s not a bad sort after all. Let’s have a look at him.”

Scottie trotted up with a friendliness and lack of dignity which alone would have ruined his chance as a prize winner. The man examined him carefully as he had examined the other dogs.

“ Not bad,” he pronounced finally, “but just falls short of requirements. Nose not quite

DISAPPOINTMENT 19 long enough, chest not quite broad enough, in fact not large enough in any way. Good coat — but ”— and he slid his fingers through it — “where in thunder did he get that curl!” It was true; in Scottie’s silky hair was a slight ripple which stubbornly had defied all efforts at repression.

The keeper nodded. “I knew he would n’t pass,” he remarked carelessly. “‘Can’t expect a litter to be all perfect. He’ll ae a good dog for somebody, just the same.’

“Sure he will,” agreed the other reatalys “ Pity though,” he added, reverting to his own point of view, which was the only one which interested him, ‘‘for he’s got the most perfectly marked head of any of ’em.”

He then dismissed Scottie with a friendly slap. Nobody paid any further attention to him. The men lingered to arrange matters concerning the two other dogs. The dogs lingered to hear their fine points praised and discussed.

Scottie slunk away by himself. This then was the outcome of all his hopes and dreams.

He, the son of Rob Roy, the best all-round collie in the country, was no better than a street cur. He was an outcast from the family of McGregor, that long line which for generations had won distinction among its kind. For the first time in his life Scottie could not bear to go to his mother. He thought that she more than any one else would feel the disgrace of his failure. But that is not the way with mothers. As he sat moping by himself in a dark corner, she came to him.

“T’ve been looking for you everywhere,” she told him. “Let’s run down to the brook together.”

As Scottie cantered along by her side he felt some of his youthful spirit reviving. It was weeks since they had been free to do this sort of thing. Soon they were haying their old refreshing plunge in the clear water, their old mad gallop across the grass, then they sank down in the sunshine together and Scottie poured out his story.

“ Dear child,” his mother told him as he finished, and raised his great wistful eyes to hers,

DISAPPOINTMENT | 21

“‘T never wanted that sort of life for you. Isn’t it enough to have two sons before the public ? Can’t I be allowed to keep one to myself ? It’s been hard,” she went on, “to lose Bruce and Rob Roy so early, but I saw what they were fitted for and did not wish to stand in their way. They are like their father, but you and I, Scottie, are alike. We both love the peace and quiet of home life.”

For answer Scottie nestled close to her just as he had done when he was a little puppy.

“To be famous isn’t always to be happy,” Bess went on. “ Your father has been on the bench all his life, so I have learned what that means; constant worry and anxiety, and the strain of appearing always at your best. He has filled his place admirably, and Bruce and Rob Roy will follow his lead, but for you, dear, I want something different.”

All this was a wonderful revelation to Scottie. He did not wish to interrupt his mother, so he just rubbed his face against hers as an encouragement to continue.

“Do you know, dear,” she added presently,

‘‘you are handsomer than either of your brothers? You are more like my side of the family.”

So the soothing mother voice went on, and Scottie learned things that he never had known before, and never would forget.

‘Some day,” his mother told him, “some one will come, not desiring the fine points which mark the show dog. It will be some one in search of a companion and friend. He or she —TI hope it may be a sweet young girl — will look into your eyes and will love you, Scottie. But if unhappy chance should separate you, and you should be thrown with others less kind, remember always to do your part well. Even if people treat you harshly, never be other than gentle and courteous to them.”

This all seemed very doubtful and distant to Scottie, but he knew that his mother had some good reason for such advice, so he accepted it gratefully.

“T divide people,” his mother went on, “in their relation to us into four classes: the willfully cruel; the carelessly neglectful; the well-

——— ee ee

DISAPPOINTMENT 23 meaning but ignorant; the loving and devoted.

These last understand us.”

“Tt seems to me,” Scottie observed, “that they are the only ones who do us any good.”

“That is exactly it,” his mother said; “this one class out of all humanity. But fortunately, Scottie, it is an ever-increasing class, for people are learning more and more, I think, that we are eager to be kind to them, if they only will be a little kind to us. So, always take it for granted that people mean well, and even if they disappoint you, give them another chance.”

“T don’t think I want to love any one but you,” Scottie said wistfully

“That ’s because you don’t know anything about it,” his mother answered. “Some day you will, and I shan’t be jealous, for human beings inspire a different sort of love in us from what we feel for our own kind, a great admiration and a desire to serve to our utmost capacity. Unless you are eager some day to lay down your life for a master or mistress, I shan’t think much of you. And if I am not here to see you,

Scottie, I hope you will think of me, and remember.”

Scottie assured her with soft caresses that he never would forget what she had taught him, though it made him very sad to think of their ever being parted.

“Come!” Bess said, jumping up and shaking herself. “‘ We ’ve talked long enough. It must be dinner time.”

.“T feel very empty,” Scottie confessed.

“T’ll race you to the house, then!”

His mother sprang from him with the long graceful bounds that Scottie had known since early puppyhood. He fell into the same swinging canter, and off they raced, side by side, delicate heads thrust forward, and plumy tails waving in the wind.

IV Success

ScoTtrg always had known that the day would come when he would settle that old score with Vixen, his mother’s enemy. If it had not been against all rules of chivalry he would have made war long ago. According to his own views she had given him just cause. She never openly had attacked either him or his mother, but she teased them in little aggravating ways which roused his blood to the boiling-point. She was ingenious in thinking of things to ruffle Bess’s usually placid temper, while Scottie she ridiculed for his lack of worldly success, and when he refused to fight her, taunted him with being a coward. This was hard enough to bear, but it was when she made fun of his mother to his face that Scottie’s self-control utterly gave way. On several such occasions, Bess had just restrained him from flying at Vixen’s throat.

One' morning when Scottie was trotting across the yard which lay between the kennels and the house, he saw Vixen and his mother together, each in the attitude of defiance which boded evil. Scottie sauntered carelessly alongside, determined that if there were trouble he would have a share in it.

“It’s plain to see,” Vixen told him with a sneer, before Scottie had a chance to wish her a civil good-morning, “where you got your cowardly ways—straight from your mother, who don’t dare strike out no matter what one says to her. I’d know you for her son anywhere, but who would dream you belonged to Rob Roy Macgregor ?”

“Kindly leave my father’s name out of the question,” Scottie said haughtily.

“So she’s trying to teach you pride and dignity, is she ?” Vixen sneered. “ Though how she can know anything about either is more than I can see.”

“Don’t you dare insult my mother!” Scottie threatened, bristling with rage, “or I’ll teach you something you don’t care to know.”

SUCCESS | RT

“Oh ho! She’s trying to make you fight her battles, is she?” Vixen asked breathlessly. ‘7 ll show you that that won’t work with me. I’m not afraid of either of you.” Thereupon she hurled herself, not at Scottie, the present offender, but upon Bess in a fury of accumulated hatred.

This was too much for Scottie. Chivalry and etiquette were forgotten. Bess, taken off her guard, was thrown to the ground, where she made a plucky attempt to regain her footing. But her enemy was upon her, and struggle was useless.

In that instant when everything looked black to Bess, and when Vixen felt that at last her hour of triumph had come, Scottie found his own strength. Inthe next instant he had sprung upon Vixen and thrown her panting to the ground. It was in his power then to silence forever that malicious tongue, and there was anger in his breast sufficient to make the deed possible. But Bess, who had sprung to her feet, whispered in his ear, “ Don’t kill her! I could n’t bear to have you guilty of such a crime.”

Scottie loosened his hold, and in that second, Vixen wrenched herself free and flew straight at his throat. That was a thrilling fight. On the whole the two were evenly matched. Scottie was heavier and stronger of limb; Vixen was quicker and through long practice more expert. The chief difference lay in the fact that Scottie, since his mother’s warning, was merely playing the defensive, while Vixen was fighting to the death. Round and round they circled, one savagely attacking, the other cleverly guarding. Over and over they rolled, first one agile body uppermost, then the other. Bess hovered near them, longing to help, but knowing the rules of the game too well to interfere. Scottie showed her that she need not worry about him; that this was his affair and he must fight it out in his own way. Indeed, after the first, Bess was not alarmed for his safety. Vixen completely lost her head and fought wildly, losing strength with each attack, but Scottie was cool, and gained poise and selfreliance after every round.

‘With each assault Vixen was met by a guard

-. SUCCESS | 29 so strong that she was forced back in helpless fury. At last she sank down, exhausted and blind with rage and disappointment, but quite unhurt. Scottie, dripping with blood, was triumphant.

Several spectators had gathered during the fight and had watched with breathless interest, though nobody attempted to interfere.

“Let em have it out!” roared the keeper. “T 711 trust Vixen to hold her own, and I want to see what the young one’s good for.”

They all were astonished by Scottie’s pluck, and by his final complete mastery.

To the victor himself it seemed part of the general injustice of humanity that his master, who was openly pleased with his courage, concluded the affair by beating him soundly.

“Why don’t you lick Vixen?” some one suggested. “ It was all her fault.”

“No use,” grunted the keeper. “She’s too old to teach. The young one’s got to learn he has no business to fight a lady. Though I must say,” he added with a laugh, “I’m confoundedly pleased that he knows how to fight at all.”

At the kennels, Scottie made a swift rise in the esteem of his own kind. They had an innate admiration for the conqueror and contempt for the conquered, and Scottie’s display of cool judgment as well as brute force won him the highest place among them.

All these opinions made small impression upon Scottie himself, for he had developed selfreliance. ‘his his mother discovered when they discussed the affair that evening.

“ Indeed I have reason to be proud of my son this day,” she told him.

Scottie nevertheless saw trouble in her eyes, and knew the cause. “ Never again will I break the rules of courtesy among our kind,” he whispered. “I fought her to save you, and it will never happen again except under like provocation.”

With this his mother was supremely happy, and Scottie was content to fall asleep. He was weary of limb, but light of heart, for he had proved himself worthy of his blood, and henceforth would be no disgrace to the line of Mc- Gregor.