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THE TEST OF REMUS
The Boytown party was at the fair grounds long before the show opened the following morning, and you may be sure the dogs were glad to see their masters, though they had been well cared for by Tom.
Though technically an outdoor show, there was room for all the dogs in the commodious cattle-show sheds in case of rain. The weather promised to be fair and warm, however, so only the smaller dogs and some of the larger short-coated ones were benched inside, where they had plenty of room and plenty of ventilation. The collies and Old English sheepdogs were tied in a row in the shade of some maple trees at one side of the grounds, and the rough-coated terriers, the setters, and some of the other breeds were also outside. The boys found the places reserved for their dogs and saw to it that they were properly and comfortably benched.
When the show opened and the spectators began to arrive, the Boytown dogs were at first nervous and excited and could not bear to have their masters leave them. After an hour or two, however, they became accustomed to their surroundings, and leaving them in charge of Tom Poultice, the boys made the rounds of the show under the guidance of Mr. Hartshorn.
It was a most interesting experience for them. Some of the breeds were of course familiar to them, and Mr. Hartshorn called attention to their points and showed how some of the dogs back home fell short of conforming to the requirements of the standard. In some instances they recognized breeds that Mr. Hartshorn had told them about but which they had never seen before. There were, for example, a Scottish deerhound, an Irish water spaniel, and some cairn terriers. As Mr.
Hartshorn had predicted, there were noteworthy entries of Sealyhams, wire-haired fox terriers, and Boston terriers, and particularly interesting exhibits of bulldogs and chows. There was one dog that puzzled them--a white dog with fluffy coat and bright eyes. The catalogue stated that it was a Samoyede.
"What is a Samoyede, Mr. Hartshorn?" asked Herbie Parsons. "I don't think I ever heard of that kind."
"That's so," said Mr. Hartshorn. "I guess I never told you about the Arctic breeds. This is one of them. They're not very common."
There were individual dogs, too, that demanded special attention, friendly dogs that wanted to shake hands and be patted and that begged the boys to stay with them. This encouraged loitering and made the circuit of the benches quite a protracted affair. Mr. Hartshorn had warned them about approaching the dogs without an introduction.
"There are always some dogs that aren't to be trusted," said he, "and as the day wears on and they get more and more nervous, they may snap.
It's always well to be cautious at a dog show, no matter how well you understand dogs. Never make a quick motion toward a dog or try to put your hand on the top of his head at first. Reach your hand out toward him quietly and let him sniff at the back of it. Then you can soon tell whether he invites further advances or not."
The boys became so absorbed in trying out this form of introduction that it was noon before they had finished visiting all the benches.
Mrs. Hartshorn insisted on having luncheon.
"I'm hungry if no one else is," said she.
The five boys suddenly discovered that they were hungry, too. Mr.
Hartshorn led them to a restaurant on the grounds and ordered the meal. It might have been better, but the boys were not critical. When they had finished eating they went out and sat for a little while in the shade of some trees, not far from the collies, and watched the people.
"Now I'll tell you about those Arctic breeds," said Mr. Hartshorn, "and get that off my mind."
It was very warm, and they were all glad of a little chance to rest.
It is tiring to walk around a dog show and one becomes more weary than one realizes. The boys stretched themselves out on the gra.s.s and listened to Mr. Hartshorn's words mingled with the barking of the dogs in all keys.
"It won't take very long to tell about these northern breeds," he began. "Their natural habitat is in the Arctic and sub-Arctic regions of Asia, Europe, Greenland, and North America. They are probably related to the Arctic wolf and they are generally used in those countries as sledge dogs.
"The spitz dog found his way down from the cold countries long ago, but he still retains some of his racial characteristics. The proper name for the one occasionally seen here is the wolfspitz. He is the largest of the spitz family, of which the Pomeranian is the miniature member.
"The Samoyede or laika is the sledge dog of northern Russia and western Siberia and was used by Nansen in his explorations. Next to the wolfspitz, the Samoyede is the most attractive and domestic of the Arctic breeds and has acquired some popularity among American fanciers, especially the white ones.
"The Norwegian elkhound is used as a bird dog as well as for hunting big game in Scandinavia. It is not a hound at all, but a general utility dog of the Arctic type, dating back to the days of the Vikings. A few have been shown in this country.
"The Eskimo dog is larger than the Samoyede and is nearer to the wolf in type. He has long been known as a distinct breed, being a native of Greenland and northern Canada, and was used by Peary, the Arctic explorer. The breed has occasionally been shown in the United States.
"There are also a number of loosely bred sledge dogs in North America, including the Canadian husky and the malamutes and Siwash dogs of Alaska. The husky, is a powerful dog, weighing 125 pounds or more, and is the common draught dog of Canada. He is said to be the result of a cross between the Arctic wolf and the Eskimo dog."
"He sounds rather unattractive to me," said Mrs. Hartshorn.
"Well, he is, as a pet," said her husband, "but he is a wonderfully useful animal in his own country. Is everybody rested now? I imagine we'd better be going back. I want to be on hand when they judge the Airedales."
The party rose and trooped back to the sheds. At intervals during the afternoon they visited their own dogs and before night they had finished their rounds of the show, but a good share of the time was spent in the vicinity of the judging rings. These were two roped-off enclosures on the open lawn, with camp chairs arranged about them for the ladies. At all times there was a goodly gathering about the rings of people whose interest was in the outcome of the judging.
Considering the fact that there was no lively action like that of a field trial or an athletic contest, it was remarkable how much excitement could be derived from these quiet compet.i.tions. When a favorite dog was given the blue ribbon there was much hand-clapping and a little cheering, and the boys heard very little complaining or rebellion against the decisions of the judges. Dog fanciers are, for the most part, good sports.
The Airedales were judged among the first, and as usual the Willowdale dogs, skilfully exhibited by Tom Poultice, bore off their fair share of the honors. Soon the Boston terriers were called for. This was Theron Hammond's big moment, and when Alert was awarded second prize in the novice cla.s.s Theron was warmly congratulated by friends and strangers alike, for there were a lot of good dogs shown and, as Mr.
Hartshorn had said, Alert was in fast company.
Rover, as Darley's Launcelot of Middles.e.x, had an easier time of it, for only eight Old English sheepdogs were benched and none of the famous kennels were represented here. There were only three dogs in the novice cla.s.s, and as the other two were second-rate dogs, Rover won first place. He also won third in the open cla.s.s, but was beaten out by better dogs in the winners contest.
[Ill.u.s.tration: Old English Sheepdog]
Hamlet, however, didn't win anything. His forelegs weren't straight and the judge took special note of them. He had better dogs against him, and the better dogs won. It was a fair contest, but Herbie was bitterly disappointed.
"Never mind, Herbie," said Jack Whipple, consolingly. "I bet Hamlet is a better dog to own than any of them. That's what I said about Remus when they said he hadn't any nose."
And Herbie, not to be outdone by the younger boy, plucked up spirit and bore his defeat manfully.
It was a two-day show, and the judging of the bird dogs, hounds, and some of the other breeds was put over to the second day. Ernest and Jack, therefore, still had their exciting time ahead of them, but the whole party was tired with so much walking about and watching, and they were glad to turn their dogs over to Tom's care and return to the hotel, with another day of it before them.
"Have you told us about all the breeds there are?" asked Ernest that evening in Mr. Hartshorn's room.
"I believe I have," said Mr. Hartshorn, "except some little known foreign ones."
"Oh, please tell us about those," pleaded Ernest.
Mr. Hartshorn laughed. "You're bound to know it all, aren't you?" said he. "There are a number of European, Asiatic, and Australasian breeds, some of which are very interesting, but you will probably never see any of them and I haven't a list of them with me. When we get back to Boytown, if there are any of you boys that would like to look up these uncommon breeds, just to make your dog knowledge complete, I shall be very glad to lend you a book which contains them all. For instance, there's the German boxer which has sometimes been shown in this country, and the Pyrenean sheepdog whose blood is to be found in several of our large breeds, including the St. Bernard and the Irish wolfhound. There are other European sheepdogs and hunting dogs, Asiatic greyhounds, and some queer hairless freaks. When you've looked those all up you'll know more about dogs than most naturalists do."
"Then if the breeds are all used up, I suppose the anecdotes have all been used up, too," said Jack.
Mr. Hartshorn looked at his watch. "Well, no, not quite all used up,"
said he. "I have thought of two or three more, and I guess we've got time for one of them to-night. It is about a tradesman of the Rue St.
Denis in Paris, a man named Dumont. He had a very smart dog, but I don't know what kind of dog it was. Perhaps a terrier or a poodle.
This dog was great at finding hidden articles. One day Dumont was walking with a friend in the Boulevard St. Antoine and was bragging about his dog. The friend would not believe his statements, so they laid a wager, the master claiming that the dog could find and bring home a six-livre piece hidden anywhere in the dust of the road.
"So the piece of money was hidden in the dust when the dog was not looking, and they went on a mile farther. Then the dog, whose name was Caniche, was told to go back and get the coin, and he promptly started. The friend wished to wait and see how it would come out, but Dumont said, 'No, we will proceed. Caniche will bring the money home.'
They accordingly went to Dumont's home and waited, but no dog appeared. The friend a.s.serted that the dog had failed and claimed the wager, but Dumont only said, 'Be patient, _mon ami_; something unexpected has happened to delay him, but he will come.'
"Something unexpected had indeed happened. A traveler from Vincennes came driving along in a chaise soon after Dumont and his friend had pa.s.sed that way, and his horse accidentally kicked the coin out of the dust. The traveler, seeing it glisten, got out and picked it up, and then drove on to his inn.
"When Caniche came up the money was, of course, not there, but he picked up the traveler's scent and followed his chaise to the inn.
Arriving there and finding his man, Caniche proceeded to make friends with him. The traveler, flattered by this attention, and being fond of dogs, said he would like to adopt Caniche, and took him to his room.
The dog settled down and appeared to be quite content.
"When bedtime came and the man began to undress, Caniche arose and barked at the door. The man, thinking this was quite natural, opened the door to let him out. Suddenly Caniche turned, seized the man's breeches, which he had just taken off, and bolted out with them. There was a purse full of gold pieces in the breeches, and the traveler dashed after the dog in his nightcap and _sans culottes_, as the French say. Caniche made for home with the angry man after him.
"Arriving at Dumont's house, Caniche gained admittance and deposited the breeches at his master's feet. Just then the owner of the breeches burst in, loudly demanding his property and accusing Dumont of having taught his dog to steal.
"'Softly, softly,' said Dumont. 'Caniche is no thief, and he would not have done this without a reason. You have a coin in these breeches that is not yours.'
"At first the stranger denied this, and then he remembered the coin he had picked up in the Boulevard St. Antoine. Explanations followed, the breeches and gold were restored to the traveler and the six-livre piece was handed to Caniche, who returned it to his master with the air of one who had fulfilled his duty. Dumont's friend paid his wager and Dumont opened a bottle of wine, and they all drank to the health of the cleverest dog in France.