Elbow-Room eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 315 pages of information about Elbow-Room.

“Come in!”

The door slowly opened, and a dog crept in.  Then the man appeared.  He didn’t seem to know me.  He said,

“I say, old pardy—­I dunno your right name—­I’m trying to sell a watch-dog; that one there; and I thought maybe you might be hungry to get a valuable animal who can watch the head off of any other dog in this yer county, so I concluded to call and throw him away for the ridic’lous sum of—­”

“I wouldn’t have him at any price.”

“What! don’t want him?  Don’t want a dog with an eye like a two-inch auger, that’ll sit and watch a thing for forty years if you’ll tell him to?  Don’t want a dog like that?”

“Certainly I don’t”.

“Well, this is singular.  There don’t appear to be a demand for watch-dogs in this place, now, does there?  You’re the fourth man I’ve tackled about him.  You really don’t want him?”

“Of course not.”

“Don’t want any kind of a dog—­not even a litter of good pups or a poodle?”

“No, sir.”

“Well, maybe you could lend me five dollars on that dog.  I’ll pay you back to-morrow.”

“Can’t do it.”

“Will you take him as a gift, and give me a chaw of terbacker?”

“I don’t chew.”

“Very strange,” he muttered, thoughtfully.  “There’s no encouragement for a man in this world.  Sure you won’t take him?”

“Yes, certain.”

“Then, you miserable whelp, git out of here, or I’ll kick the breath out of you.  Come, now, git!” And he gave the dog a kick that sent him into the middle of the street, and then withdrew himself.

The trade in dogs certainly is not active in Millburg.



One day I met Mr. Butterwick in the street leading his dog with a chain.  He said that it was a very valuable dog and he was anxious to get it safely home, but he had to catch a train, and I would confer a personal favor upon him if I would take the dog to my house and keep it until he returned from the city.  The undertaking was not a pleasant one, but I disliked to disoblige Butterwick, and so I consented.  Butterwick gave me his end of the chain and left in a hurried manner.  I got the dog home with the greatest difficulty, and turned it into the cellar.  About an hour later I received a telegram from Butterwick saying that he had been compelled to go down to the lower part of Jersey, and that he wouldn’t be home for a week or two.  That was on the 12th of June, and after that time only two persons entered the cellar.  The hired girl went down once after the cold beef, and came up disheveled and bleeding, with a number of appalling dog-bites in her legs, and I descended immediately afterward for the purpose of pacifying the infuriated animal.  He did not feel disposed to become calm, however, and I deem it probable that if I had not suddenly clambered into

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Elbow-Room from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.
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