bruce-第5章

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man　of　twelve；　he　sputtered　rapturously：



〃I　KNEW　I'd　find　you；　LassieI　knew　it　all　the　time；even　the

times　when　I　was　deadsure　I　wouldn't！　Gee；　but　you've　grown；

though！　And　you're　beautifuler　than　ever。　Isn't　she；　Miss？〃　he

demanded；　turning　to　the　Mistress　with　instinctive　knowledge　that

here　at　least　he　would　find　confirmation。　〃Indeed　she　is！〃　the

Mistress　assured　him。



〃And　see　how　glad　she　is　to　be　with　you　again！　She〃



〃And　Dad　says　she　can　stay　with　me；　for　keeps！〃　exulted　Dick。　〃He

says　he'll　put　a　new　lock　on　the　cellar　door；　so　she　can't　ever

push　out　again；　the　way　she　did；　last　time。　But　I　guess　she's　had

her　lesson　in　going　out　for　walks　at　night　and　not　being　able　to

find　her　way　back。　She　and　I　are　going　to　have　the　dandiest　times

together；　that　ever　happened。　Aren't　we；　Lass？　Is　that　her　little

boy？〃　he　broke　off；　in　eager　curiosity；　as　the　Master　appeared

from　the　kennels；　carrying　Bruce。



The　puppy　was　set　down　on　the　veranda　floor　for　Dick's

inspection。



〃He's　cunning；　isn't　he？　Kind　of　like　a　Teddy　Bear；the　sort

kids　play　with。　But；〃　with　a　tinge　of　worry；　〃I'm　not　sure　Ma

will　let　me　keep　two。　Maybe〃



〃Perhaps；〃　suggested　the　Mistress；　〃perhaps　you'd　like　us　to　keep

little　Bruce；　to　remember　Lass　by？　We'll　try　to　make　him　very

happy。〃



〃Yes'm！〃　agreed　Dick；　in　much　haste；　his　brow　clearing　from　a

mental　vision　of　Mrs。　Hazen's　face　when　she　should　see　him　return

with　twice　as　many　dogs　as　he　had　set　out　for。　〃Yes'm。　If　you

wouldn't　mind；　very　much。　S'pose　we　leave　it　that　way？　I　guess

Bruce'll　like　being　with　you；　Miss。　II　guess　pretty　near

anybody　would。　You'llyou'll　try　not　to　be　too　homesick　for

Lass；　won't　you？〃



On　the　steps　of　the　veranda　the　downy　and　fat　puppy　watched　his

mother's　departure　with　no　especial　interest。　By　the　Mistress's

wish；　Mr。　Hazen　had　not　been　required　to　make　any　part　of　his

proffered　hundred…dollar　payment　for　the　return　of　his　boy's　pet。

All　the　Mistress　had　stipulated　was　that　Lass　might　be　allowed　to

remain　at　The　Place　until　baby　Bruce　should　no　longer　need　her。



〃Bruce；〃　said　the　Mistress　as　the　car　rolled　up　the　drive　and　out

of　sight；　〃you　are　the　sole　visible　result　of　The　Place's

experiment　in　raising　prize　collies。　You　have　a　tremendous

responsibility　on　those　fat　little　shoulders　of　yours；to　live

up　to　it　all。〃



By　way　of　showing　his　scorn　for　such　trifles　as　a　〃tremendous

responsibility；〃　Bruce　proceeded　to　make　a　ferocious　onslaught　at

the　Mistress's　temperamental　gray　Persian　kitten；　〃Tipperary；〃

which　was　picking　a　mincing　way　across　the　veranda。



A　howl　of　pain　and　two　scratches　on　his　tiny　nose　immediately

followed　the　attack。　Tipperary　then　went　on　with　her　mincing

promenade。　And　Bruce；　with　loud　lamentations；　galloped　to　the

shelter　of　the　Mistress's　skirt。



〃Poor　little　chap！〃　soothed　the　Mistress；　picking　him　up　and

comforting　him。　〃Responsibility　isn't　such　a　joke；　after　all；　is

it；　Baby？〃







CHAPTER　II。　The　Pest



Thackeray；　as　a　lad；　was　dropped　from　college　for　laziness　and

for　gambling。　Bismarck　failed　to　get　a　University　degree；　because

he　lacked　power　to　study　and　because　he　preferred　midnight　beer

to　midnight　oil。　George　Washington；　in　student　days；　could　never

grasp　the　simplest　rules　of　spelling。　The　young　Lincoln　loved　to

sprawl　in　the　shade　with　fish…pole　or　tattered　book；　when　he

should　have　been　working。



Now；　these　men　were　giantsphysically　as　well　as　mentally。　Being

giants；　they　were　by　nature　slow　of　development。



The　kitten；　at　six　months　of　age；　is　graceful　and　compact　and　of

perfect　poise。　The　lion…cub；　at　the　same　age；　is　a　gawky　and

foolish　and　ill…knit　mass　of　legs　and　fur；　deficient　in　sense　and

in　symmetry。　Yet　at　six　years；　the　lion　and　the　cat　are　not　to　be

compared　for　power　or　beauty　or　majesty　or　brain；　or　along　any

other　lines。



The　foregoing　is　not　an　essay　on　the　slow　development　of　the

Great。　It　is　merely　a　condensation　of　the　Mistress's　earnest

arguments　against　the　selling　or　giving　away　of　a　certain

hopelessly　awkward　and　senseless　and　altogether　undesirable

collie　pup　named　Bruce。



From　the　very　first；　the　Mistress　had　been　Bruce's　champion　at

The　Place。　There　was　no　competition　for　that　office。　She　and　she

alone　could　see　any　promise　in　the　shambling　youngster。



Because　he　had　been　born　on　The　Place；　and　because　he　was　the

only　son　of　Rothsay　Lass；　whom；　the　Mistress　had　also　championed

against　strong　opposition；　it　had　been　decided　to　keep　and　raise

him。　But　daily　this　decision　seemed　less　and　less　worth　while。

Only　the　Mistress's　championing　of　the　Undesirable　prevented　his

early　banishment。



From　a　fuzzy　and　adventurous　fluff…ball　of　gray…gold…and…white

fur；　Bruce　swiftly　developed　into　a　lanky　giant。　He　was　almost　as

large　again　as　is　the　average　collie　pup　of　his　age；　but；　big　as

he　was；　his　legs　and　feet　and　head　were　huge；　out　of　all

proportion　to　the　rest　of　him。　The　head　did　not　bother　him。　Being

hampered　by　no　weight　of　brain；　it　would　be　navigated　with　more

or　less　ease；　in　spite　of　its　bulk。　But　the　legs　and　feet　were

not　only　in　his　own　way；　but　in　every　one　else's。



He　seemed　totally　lacking　in　sense；　as　well　as　in　bodily

coordination。　He　was　forever　getting　into　needless　trouble。　He

was　a　stormcenter。　No　one　but　a　born　foolcanine　or　humancould

possibly　have　caused　one…tenth　as　much　bother。



The　Mistress　had　named　him　〃Bruce；〃　after　the　stately　Scottish

chieftain　who　was　her　history…hero。　And　she　still　called　him

Brucefifty　times　a　dayin　the　weary　hope　of　teaching　him　his

name。　But　every　one　else　on　The　Place　gave　him　a　title　instead　of

a　namea　title　that　stuck：　〃The　Pest。〃　He　spent　twenty…four

hours；　daily；　living　up　to　it。



Compared　with　Bruce's　helplessly　clownish　trouble…seeking

propensities；　Charlie　Chaplin's　screen　exploits　are　miracles　of

heroic　dignity　and　of　good　luck。



There　was　a　little　artificial　water…lily　pool　on　The　Place；

perhaps　four　feet　deep。　By　actual　count；　Bruce　fell　into　it　no

less　than　nine　times　in　a　single　week。　Once　or　twice　he　had

nearly　drowned　there　before　some　member　of　the　family　chanced　to

fish　him　out。　And；　learning　nothing　from　experience；　he　would

fall　in　again；　promptly；　the　next　day。



The　Master　at　last　rigged　up　a　sort　of　sloping　wooden　platform；

running　from　the　lip　of　the　pool　into　the　water；　so　that　Bruce

could　crawl　out　easily；　next　time　he　should　tumble　in。　Bruce

watched　the　placing　of　this　platform　with　much　grave　interest。

The　moment　it　was　completed；　he　trotted　down　it　on　a　tour　of

investigation。　At　its　lower　edge　he　slipped　and　rolled　into　the

pool。　There　he　floundered；　with　no　thought　at　all　of　climbing　out

as　he　had　got　in；　until　the　Master　rescued　him　and　spread　a　wire

net　over　the　whole　pool　to　avert　future　accidents。



Thenceforth；　Bruce　met　with　no　worse　mischance；　there；　than　the　…

perpetual　catching　of　his　toe…pads　in　the　meshes　of　the　wire。

Thus　ensnared　he　would　stand；　howling　most　lamentably；　until　his

yells　brought　rescue。



Though　the　pool　could　be　covered　with　a　net；　the　wide　lake　at　the

foot　of　the　lawn　could　not　be。　Into　the　lake　Bruce　would　wade

till　the　water　reached　his　shoulders。　Then　with　a　squeal　of

venturesome　joy；　he　would　launch　himself　outward　for　a　swim；　and；

once　facing　away　from　shore；　he　never　had　sense　enough　to　turn

around。



After　a　half…hour　of　steady　swimming；　his　soft　young　strength

would　collapse。　A　howl　of　terror　would　apprise　the　world　at　large

that　he　was　about　to　drown。　Whereat　some　passing　boatman　would

pick　him　up　and　hold　him　for　ransom；　or　else　some　one　from　The

Place　must　jump　into　skiff　or　canoe　and　hie　with　all　speed　to　the

rescue。　The　same　thing　would　be　repeated　day　after　day。



The　local　S。P。C。A。　threatened　to　bring　action　against　the　Master

for　letting　his　dog　risk　death；　in　this　way；　from　drowning。

Morbidly；　the　Master　wished　the　risk　might　verge　into　a

certainty。



The　puppy's　ravenous　appetite　was　the　wonder　of　all。　He　stopped

eating　only　when　there　was　nothing　edible　in　reach。　And　as　his

ideas　of　edible　food　embraced　everything　that　was　chewable；from

bath…towels　to　axle…greasehe　was　seldom　fasting　and　was

frequently　ill。



Nature　does　more　for　animals　than　for　humans。　By　a　single

experience　she　warns　them；　as　a　rule；　what　they　may　safely　eat

and　what　they　may　not。　Bruce　was　the　exception。　He　would　pounce

upon　and　devour　a　luscious　bit　of　laundry…soap　with　just　as　much

relish　as　though　a　similar　bit　of　soap　had　not　made　him　horribly

sick　the　day　before。



Once　he　munched；　relishfully；　a　two…pound　box　of　starch；　box　and

all；　on　his　recovery；　he　began　upon　a　second　box；　and　was　unhappy

when　it　was　taken　from　him。



He　would　greet　members　of　the　family　with　falsetto…thunderous

barks　of　challenge　as　they　came　down　the　drive　from　the　highway。

But　he　would　frisk　out　in　joyous　welcome　to　meet　and　fawn　upon

tramps　or　peddlers　who　sought　to　invade　The　Place。　He　could

scarce　learn　his　own　name。　He　could　hardly　be　taught　to　obey　the

simplest　command。　As　for　shaking　hands　or　lying　down　at　order

（those　two　earliest　bits　of　any　dog's　education）；　they　meant　no

more　to　Bruce　than　did　the　theory　of　quadratic　equations。



At　three　months　he　launched　forth　merrily　as　a　chicken…killer；

gleefully　running　down　and　beheading　The　Place's　biggest

Orpington　rooster。　But　his　first　kill　was　his　last。　The　Master

saw　to　that。



There　is　no　use　in　thrashing　a　dog　for　killing　poultry。　There　is

but　one　practically　sure　cure　for　the　habit。　And　this　one　cure

the　Master　applied。



He　tied　the　slain　rooster　firmly　around　Bruce's　furry　throat；　and

made　the　puppy　wear　it；　as　a　heavy　and　increasingly　malodorous

pendant；　for　three　warm　days　and　nights。



Before　the　end　of　this　seventy…two…hour　period；　Bruce　had　grown

to　loathe　the　sight　and　scent　of　chicken。　Stupid　as　he　was；　he

learned　this　lesson　with　absolute　thoroughness；as　will　almost

any　chicken…killing　pup；and　it　seemed　to　be　the　only　teaching

that　his　unawakened　young　brain　had　the　power　to　grasp。



In　looks；　too；　Bruce　was　a　failure。　His　yellowish…and…white　body

was　all　but　shapeless。　His　coat　was　thick　and　heavy　enough；　but

it　showed　a　tendency　to　curlalmost　to　kinkinstead　of　waving

crisply；　as　a　collie's　ought。　The　head　was　coarse　and　blurred　in

line。　The　body　was　gaunt；　in　spite　of　its　incessant　feedings。　As

for　contour　or　style



It　was　when　the　Master；　in　disgust；　pointed　out　these　diverse

failings　of　the　pup；　that　the　Mistress　was　wont　to　draw　on

historic　precedent　for　other　instances　of　slow　development；　and

to　take　in　vain　the　names　of　Thackeray；　Lincoln；　Washington　and

Bismarck　and　the　rest。



〃Give　him　time！〃　she　urged　once。　〃He　isn't　quite　six　months　old

yet；　and　he　has　grown　so　terribly　fast。　Why；　he's　over　two　feet

tall；　at