Aileen Aroon, A Memoir
man, and then the man's head and his would be abouton a level.
"Somebody taught him a trick of taking gentlemen's hats off in thestreet."
"Oh!" cried Ida, "I know who the somebody was; it was you, uncle. Hownaughty of you!"
"Well, Ida," I confessed, "perhaps you are right; but remember that boththe dog and I were younger then than we are now. But Nero frequentlytook a fancy to a policeman's helmet, and used to secure one very neatlywhen the owner had his back turned, and having secured it, he would gogalloping down the street with it, very much to the amusement of thepassengers, but usually to the great indignation of the denudedpoliceman. It would often require the sum of sixpence to put matters torights."
"I am so glad," said Ida, "he does not deprive policemen of theirhelmets now; I should be afraid to go out with him."
"You see, Ida, I am not hiding any of the dog's faults nor follies. Hehad one other trick which more than once led to a scene in the street.I was in the habit of giving him my stick to carry. Sometimes he wouldcome quietly up behind me and march off with it before I had time toprevent him. This would not have signified, if the dog had not taken itinto his head that he could with impunity snatch a stick from the handsof any passer-by who happened to carry one to his--the dog's--liking.It was a thick stick the dog preferred, a good mouthful of wood; but heused to do the trick so nimbly and so funnily that the aggrieved partywas seldom or never angry. I used to get the stick from Nero as soon asI could, giving him my own instead, and restore it with an ample apologyto its owner.
"But one day Nero, while out walking with me, saw limping on ahead of usan old sailor with a wooden leg. I daresay he had left his original legin some field of battle, or some blood-stained deck.
"`Oh!' Nero seemed to say to himself, `there is a capital stick. Thatis the thickness I like to see. There is something in that one can layhold of.'
"And before I could prevent him, he had run on and seized the poor manby the wooden leg. Nero never was a dog to let go hold of anything hehad once taken a fancy to, unless he chose to do so of his own accord.On this occasion, I feel convinced he himself saw the humour of theincident, for he stuck to the leg, and there was positive merrimentsparkling in his eye as he tugged and pulled. The sailor was Irish, andjust as full of fun as the dog. Whether or not he saw there washalf-a-crown to be gained by it I cannot say, but he set himself down onthe pavement, undid the leg, and off galloped Nero in triumph, wavingthe wooden limb proudly aloft. The Irishman, sitting there on thepavement, made a speech that set every one around him laughing. I foundthe dog, and got the leg, slipping a piece of silver into the oldsailor's hand as I restored it.
"Well, that was an easy way out of a difficulty. Worse was to come,however, from this trick of Nero's; for not long after, in a dockyardtown, while out walking, I perceived some distance ahead of me ourelderly admiral of the Fleet. I made two discoveries at one and thesame time: the first was, that the admiral carried a beautiful strongbamboo cane; the second was, that master Nero, after giving me a glancethat told me he was brimful of mischief, had made up his mind to possesshimself of that bamboo cane. Before I could remonstrate with him, theadmiral was caneless, and as brimful of wrath as the dog was of fun.
"The situation was appalling.
"I was in uniform, and here was a living admiral, whom _my_ dogassaulted, the dog himself at that very moment lying quietly a littleway off, chewing the head of the cane into match-wood. An apology wasrefused, and I couldn't offer him half-a-crown as I had done the oldwooden-legged sailor.
"The name of my ship was demanded, and with fear and trembling in myheart I turned and walked sorrowfully away."
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CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN.
THE STORY OF AILEEN'S HUSBAND, NERO--CONTINUED.
"His hair, his size, his mouth, his lugs, Showed he was none o' Scotland's dogs."
Burns.
"You see, dear," I continued, "that Nero had even in his younger days avery high sense of humour and fun, and was extremely fond of practicaljoking, and this trait of his character sometimes led his master intodifficulties, but the dog and I always managed to get over them. At avery early age he learned to fetch and carry, and when out walking henever seemed happy unless I gave him something to bring along with him.Poor fellow, I daresay he thought he was not only pleasing me, butassisting me, and that he was not wrong in thinking so you will readilybelieve when told that, in his prime, he could carry a large carpet bagor light portmanteau for miles without the least difficulty. He washandy, therefore, when travelling, for he performed the duties of alight porter, and never demanded a fee.
"He used to carry anything committed to his charge, even a parcel withglass in it might be safely entrusted to his care, if you did not forgetto tell him to be very cautious with it.
"I was always very careful to give him something to carry, for if I didnot he was almost sure to help himself. When going into a shop, forinstance, to make a purchase, he was exceedingly disappointed ifsomething or other was not bought and handed to him to take home. OnceI remember going into a news-agent's shop for something the man did nothappen to have. I left shortly, taking no thought about my companion,but had not gone far before Nero went trotting past me with awell-filled paper bag in his mouth, and after us came running, gaspingand breathless, a respectable-looking old lady, waving aloft a bluegingham umbrella. `The dog, the dog,' she was bawling, `he has run offwith my buns! Stop thief!'
"I stopped the thief, and the lady was gracious enough to accept myapologies.
"Not seeing me make any purchase, Nero had evidently said tohimself--`Why, nothing to carry? Well, I don't mean to go away withoutanything, if my master does. Here goes.' And forthwith he had pouncedupon the paper bag full of buns, which the lady had deposited on thecounter.
"At Sheerness, bathers are in the habit of leaving their boots on thebeach while they enjoy the luxury of a dip in the sad sea waves. Theyusually put their stockings or socks in the boots. When quite a mileaway from the bathing-place, one fine summer's day, I happened to lookround, and there was Nero walking solemnly after me with a young girl'sboot, with a stocking in it, in his mouth. We went back to the place,but I could find no owner for the boot, though I have no doubt it hadbeen missed. Don't you think so, birdie?"
"Yes," said Ida; "only fancy the poor girl having to go home with oneshoe off and one shoe on. Oh! Nero, you dear old boy, who could havethought you had ever been so naughty in the days of your youth!"
"Well, another day when travelling, I happened to have no luggage. Thisdid not please Master Nero, and in lieu of something better, he pickedup a large bundle of morning papers, which the porter had just thrownout of the luggage van. He ran out of the station with them, and itrequired no little coaxing to make him deliver them up, for he wasextremely fond of any kind of paper to carry.
"But Nero was just as honest, Ida, when a young dog as he is now.Nothing ever could tempt him to steal. The only thing approaching totheft that could be laid to his charge happened early one morning atBoston, in Lincolnshire. I should tell you first, however, that thedog's partiality for rabbits as playmates was very great indeed. He hastaken more to cats of late, but when a young dog, rabbits were hisespecial delight.
"We had arrived at Boston by a very early morning train, our luggagehaving gone on before, the night before, so that when I reached myjourney's end, I had only to whistle on my dog, and, stick in hand, setout for my hotel. It was the morning of an agricultural show, andseveral boxes containing exhibition rabbits lay about the platform.
"Probably the dog had reasoned thus with himself:--
"`Those boxes contain rabbits; what a chance to possess myself of adelightful pet! No doubt they belong to my master, for almosteverything in this world does, only he didn't notice them; but I'm surehe will be as much pleased as myself when he sees the lovely rabbit hopout of the box; so here goes. I'll have this one.'
"The upshot of Nero's cogitations
was that, on looking round when fullya quarter of a mile from the station, to see why the dog was not keepingpace with me, I found him marching solemnly along behind with a boxcontaining a live rabbit in his mouth. He was looking just a littlesheepish, and he looked more so when I scolded him and made him turn andcome back with it.
"Dogs have their likes and dislikes to other animals and to people, justas we human beings have. One of Nero's earliest companions was abeautiful little pure white Pomeranian dog, of the name of `Vee-Vee.'He was as like an Arctic fox--sharp face, prick ears, and all--as anydog could be, only instead of lagging his tail behind him, as a foxdoes, the Pomeranian prefers to curl it up over his back, probably forthe simple reason that he does not wish to