Encouraged By The Landlord, We Introduced
Ourselves To The Dog At Cama, And Found Him To Be A Most Sweet
Person, With No Sense Whatever Of Self-Respect, And Shrinking From
No Ignominy In His Importunity For Bits Of Bread.
When we put the
bread into his mouth and felt his teeth, he would not take it till
he had looked in our eyes and said as plainly as though in words,
"Are you quite sure that my teeth are not painful to you?
Do you
really think I may now close my teeth upon the bread without
causing you any inconvenience?" We assured him that we were quite
comfortable, so he swallowed it down, and presently began to pat us
softly with his foot to remind us that it was our turn now.
Before we left, a wandering organ-grinder began to play outside the
inn. Our friend the dog lifted up his voice and howled. I am sure
it was with pleasure. If he had disliked the music he would have
gone away. He was not at all the kind of person who would stay a
concert out if he did not like it. He howled because he was
stirred to the innermost depths of his nature. On this he became
intense, and as a matter of course made a fool of himself; but he
was in no way more ridiculous than an Art Professor whom I once
observed as he was holding forth to a number of working men, whilst
escorting them round the Italian pictures in the National Gallery.
When the organ left off he cast an appealing look at Jones, and we
could almost hear the words, "What IS it out of?" coming from his
eyes.
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