CHAPTER V
THE WILLOWDALE KENNELS
As Harry Barton had said, it was only a short run on the train toThornboro. The three boys disembarked at the station and walked up awinding, muddy road, for the sun was gathering strength and the snowhad been melting fast. The fields and hillsides lay brown and dry, butnot uninviting. It was a glorious day to be out of doors, especiallyupon such a quest.
They came at length to an entrance in a privet hedge and passed up along driveway with maple trees along both sides. At the end of it theycould see a large brick house with white pillars along the front.
"My, but this is a big place," said Ernest.
"Sure," said Harry. "Mr. Hartshorn is a rich man. If he wasn't, how doyou s'pose he could keep so many dogs and hire a man just to take careof them?"
"What does he do with so many?" inquired Jack, to whom the care of onesmall puppy seemed a considerable responsibility.
"Oh, he shows them," was Harry's somewhat vague explanation. "He takesprizes with them at dog shows. Some of them are champions. He breedsthem, too, and he sells the puppies he doesn't want to keep. I guesshe makes a good deal of his money that way."
"What kind of dogs are they?" asked Ernest.
"Mostly Airedale terriers and white bull terriers," said Harry. "Notcommon bull terriers, like Frank Symonds's, but the finest kind, allwhite."
As they neared the house, Harry led them into a path through theshrubbery which brought them at last around to the rear, where therewas a big stable and garage, a greenhouse, and some other buildings.
"That long low building is the kennels," said Harry. "The dogs are intheir runs out back, I expect, and prob'ly Tom is out there, too."
"Why!" exclaimed Jack, "it's just like a house for people."
The Willowdale kennel house was indeed a more elaborate affair thanthe boys had imagined could ever have been built just for dogs. Itmade Rome appear very humble in comparison. It was a well-built house,long and low, with windows all along the front and a door in themiddle. Over this door was an ornamental gable and there was a cupolaat the top. The whole was painted white.
The boys passed around the end of the building, from behind whichissued the voices of many dogs which they presently saw runningabout in yards built of wire fencing. Some of the dogs were smooth andpure white and some were wiry-coated and a rich black and tan--tan onthe legs and head and black or a very dark grizzle on the neck andbody. They all appeared to be very lively, active dogs, and some ofthem seemed rather pugnaciously anxious to get at one another throughthe wire fences.
"There's Tom," announced Harry, and the other boys, following hispointing finger, observed a man in brown clothes and leather leggingsapparently engaged in mending the fence at the rear of one of theruns. As they approached he straightened up and came forward to meetthem, with a little smile on his broad face.
"Well," said he, "'ere we are. An' 'ow's the little man to-day? An''ow's the dog Mike?"
"Pretty well, thank you," said Harry, in a rather more subdued tonethan he had been using toward Jack and Ernest. "These are my friends,Ernest and Jack Whipple. They want to see your dogs."
Tom Poultice regarded the newcomers quizzically. "Sure you aren'tafraid o' gettin' bit?"
"Oh, no, we aren't afraid of dogs," asserted Ernest.
"Right-o," said Tom. "Come along and I'll show you our new Hairedale,Bingo's Queen Molly. She's a 'ummer, Molly is."
He led the way through a wire gate into one of the runs and called thenew dog to him, whereat the dogs in the neighboring runs set up a loudbarking.
"They're all jealous," said Tom, "but they wouldn't touch 'er. A maledog scarcely ever attacks a female."
White English Bull Terrier]
Molly proved to be a sweet, gentle creature, and allowed the boys topat and stroke her hard little head.
"She's the genooine harticle," said Tom. "See the straight legs of 'eran' the square muzzle. She'll win something, or I'm no judge."
"She's a little smaller than some of them, isn't she?" asked Harry.
"Yes, but she's just about the right size for showing," said Tom."Thirty-seven she weighs. I'm partial to the bigger dogs, myself, butthe judges generally favor a smaller dog if he's got the points.Molly's certainly got the points."
Much to the edification of the boys, Tom went on to describe thestandard points of the Airedale, illustrating with several of thedogs, all of whom seemed to be very fond of the kennelman. Then hetook them in to see the bull terriers.
"'Ere's a different kind of dog entirely," he said. "As good a fighterand watchdog as the Hairedale, but not useful in so many ways. It's anolder breed than the Hairedale. I can remember when the bull terrierwas a heavier dog, and brindles were just as good as whites, but nowthey want only this kind in the shows, with a long skull and purewhite. Eyes small and shaped like almonds, and set wide apart. That'sthe kind. The ears have to be cropped in this country to win prizes.Beastly custom. They don't do it in Hengland any more. I'm glad theylet the Hairedales' ears alone."
For some time Tom Poultice discoursed learnedly on these two breedsand answered numerous questions.
"What-ho," he exclaimed suddenly. "'Ere's Mr. 'Artshorn coming. Get'im to tell you about dogs. 'E knows a thing or two 'imself."
A well-dressed gentleman in a gray overcoat and hat, with a graypointed beard, and carrying a cane, appeared around the end of thekennel house. The boys appeared a little ill at ease.
"Don't be scared of 'im," said Tom. "'E likes boys."
"Well, Tom," said Mr. Hartshorn, stopping now and then to poke hisstick through the fence at the dogs that came yelping down their runsto greet him, "how's Molly?"
"Mighty fine, sir," said Tom; "mighty fine."
"Some of your friends?" he inquired, indicating the boys.
"Yes, sir," said Tom. "This is Harry Barton, sir, from Boytown, andthese--what did you say your names were?"
"Ernest and Jack Whipple," said Ernest.
"Ah, yes," said Mr. Hartshorn, just as though he had been readingabout these boys in the paper. "Glad to meet you, I'm sure. Came up tohave a look at the finest dogs in Connecticut, I suppose."
He had a pleasant, friendly face, and though the boys were a littleawed by his imposing appearance and courtly manner, they soon losttheir shyness and found themselves asking him many questions aboutdogs.
"Come up to the house," said he at length. "I can explain thingsbetter up there, where I have some pictures."
Tom went back to his work and the boys, bidding him good-by, followedMr. Hartshorn up to the big house. He took them into a room that hesaid was his den. There was a big desk in it, all littered up withpapers, and well filled bookcases around the room.
"Are all these books about dogs?" inquired Harry.
"Well, a good many of them are," said Mr. Hartshorn. "I have aboutevery book on dogs that has been printed, I expect."
On the walls above the bookcases were photographs and colored picturesof dogs and horses in frames, and at one side of the room was a longleather sofa. Mr. Hartshorn seated himself at his desk and beganrummaging in a drawer full of photographs, while he told the boys tobe seated on the sofa.
"Now, then," he said when they were all settled, "you were asking meabout the different kinds of terriers, and I guess I've got picturesof good specimens of about every kind. How many kinds of standardbreeds of terriers do you suppose there are?"
"About eight, I guess," said Harry, who was a little more forward thanthe Whipple boys.
"Wrong," said Mr. Hartshorn. "There are nearly a hundred recognizedbreeds of dogs in this country, all different, and eighteen of theseare terriers. To make them easier to remember, I will divide them intothree classes, smooth-coated, wire-haired, and long-haired. Thesmooths are the bull terrier, the Boston, the smooth fox terrier, theManchester, and the Doberman pinscher. The wires are the wire-hairedfox terrier, the Airedale, the Bedlington, the Irish, the Welsh, theScottish, the West Highland white, the Dandie Dinmont, the ca
irn, andthe Sealyham. The long-haired ones are the Skye, the Clydesdale, andthe Yorkshire."
"My!" exclaimed Ernest. "I never heard of some of them before."
"Lots of people haven't," said Mr. Hartshorn, "but they're all worthknowing. You can see nearly all of them at a big show like the oneheld every year in New York. I'm going to tell you something aboutthem all, if you'd like to listen."
"Oh, yes, please do," said Ernest.
"Well," said Mr. Hartshorn, arranging his photographs, "first let meexplain what a terrier is. Most of them come from England andScotland. A few from Wales and Ireland. Terrier means earth dog, andthat's what they were called hundreds of years ago when they werefirst used to hunt animals that run into the ground or under stones.They had to be brave and gamey and not too big, and they became veryactive little dogs and mighty efficient. At first, some weresmooth-coated and some wire-coated. Finally, however, Englishmen beganto breed certain favorite kinds, and so the different breeds weregradually established.
"One of the oldest kinds is the Manchester or black-and-tan terrier.He was first bred by the mill hands in the Midland counties of Englandwhere he was famous as a ratter. Here's a picture of one. Handsomechap, isn't he? Nice, intelligent dog, too. His ears are cropped buthis tail isn't. The white bull terrier is a near relative of theManchester. I've already told you about him.
"Now here's the Boston. I guess you know this kind."
"Oh, yes," said Ernest. "Theron Hammond has one named Alert."
"This is an American-made breed," said Mr. Hartshorn, "out of Britishraw material. Some Boston fanciers developed it from the brindle bullterrier about 1890. It's one of the most popular breeds here now. Asmallish dog--sometimes too small, I think--brindle and white. Andhere's the smooth fox terrier. You've seen lots of those. Anothersmall one, not over twenty pounds. He was developed from the oldEnglish working terrier about fifty years ago.
Airedale Terrier]
"Now here's one that I don't believe you know. It's a Dobermanpinscher. Funny name. Wonderfully smart dog, though. They call him thedog with the human brain. He comes from Germany, where he was first awatchdog and was later trained as a police dog. I believe the firstones were brought over here in 1907. A muscular dog, weighing forty orfifty pounds. He is marked like the Manchester but his coat is lesssilky.
"Now we come to the wires. The wire-haired fox terrier is really justlike the smooth, but he looks quite different because of his stiff,wiry coat. Then there's the Airedale. You know about those. Bestall-round dog in the world in my opinion. This is a Bedlington. Youwon't see many of those. Has a head like a lamb, hasn't he? And noticethe silky topknot. He's a good little sporting dog if he does look somild. They're mostly blue-gray and tan, and weigh about twenty-fourpounds.
"Here's the liveliest one of the lot, the Irish terrier. Sometimesthey call him the dare-devil. He's a great little scrapper. He comesfrom Ireland, of course. He's a red dog, weighs twenty-four pounds,and makes one of the best comrades a boy can have. The Welsh terrieris related to the wire-haired fox, though he looks more like a smallAiredale, being black and tan. He's a little smaller than theIrishman.
"Several terriers come from Scotland, and as you can see from thesepictures they're a short-legged, strong-headed, long-bodied lot.That's because they were bred to go into the ground and the piles ofrocks after badger and such-like game. They had to be pretty tough tomanage it, too. This is the cairn terrier. He used to be called theHighland terrier, and I guess he's more nearly like the originalterrier of Scotland than any of the others, He came from theHebrides Islands. I expect you've never seen one, for they aren'tcommon in this country. But they're jolly little beggars. They're thesmallest of the lot, weighing only twelve to fifteen pounds, butmighty hardy and gamey. They are various sandy and grizzled colors andalways have this foxy little head.
"You may have seen one of these. It's a Scottish terrier, once calledthe Aberdeen, and we have a lot of good ones over here now. Some callhim the Scottie or the die-hard. See how wise he looks, with hisbright eyes under his big eyebrows. Notice the big head and short legsand upright tail. There are some sandy ones, but mostly they're a darkgrizzled gray. They weigh eighteen to twenty pounds. Here's his firstcousin, the West Highland white terrier. He comes from Argyllshire, onthe west coast of Scotland, and he's always pure white. Like most ofthe other Scotchmen he has a harsh outer coat and a soft under coat,which are practically waterproof. He has a more pointed muzzle thanthe Scottie and he's smaller."
At the next picture the boys all laughed. It was such a queer-lookingdog, with such a big head and long body, and a face like that of anold Scotchman.
"He's a Dandie Dinmont," said Mr. Hartshorn. "If you ever read 'GuyMannering' by Sir Walter Scott, you may remember that he speaks ofDandie Dinmont's pepper and mustard terriers. The book was publishedin 1814, and Dandie Dinmont terriers have been popular in the bordercountries of Scotland ever since. The Dandie is related to theBedlington. You see he has the same drooping ears and the topknot.Gray and fawn are the colors.
"This is the last of the wires. It's a Sealyham. He looks as though hemight be related to the Scotch breeds, with his short legs and stronghead. He was, in fact, bred for badger hunting, as they were, but hecomes from Wales. We have had them in this country only since 1912.The Sealyham is a mighty lovable little dog. He is white, often withblack or brown markings, and he's about the same size as the WestHighlander.
"Now we come to the long-coated ones, and the first of them is theSkye, another of the Scotch breeds. He's a close relative of thecairn, but he has a long coat and hair over his eyes. He's about thesame size as the West Highlander and he's blue-gray or fawn. They usedto be much more common than they are now. By the way, did you everread the story of Greyfriars Bobby?"
None of the boys had read it.
"Well, do so the first chance you get. That's on of the loveliest dogstories ever written, and it's true. Greyfriars Bobby was a Skyeterrier.
"This is the Clydesdale or Paisley terrier. Not at all a common breed.I doubt if you'll ever see one in the United States. He lookssomething like the Skye, but his coat is silkier. He's steel blue onthe body and head, with golden tan feet. The Yorkshire comes from theother side of the border, and he's something like the Clydesdale, onlywith longer legs and shorter body. He's a fancy dog with a wonderfulcoat, parted down the middle and sweeping the ground. He's steel bluewith tan markings on the head, chest, and legs.
"There you have all the terriers," he concluded, "and I guess you'vehad a long enough lesson for one day. These facts are all veryinteresting, but they become prosy and confusing if taken in too largedoses. Here, take this book home with you, and look it over at yourleisure. You'll find in it all the things I've told you and a lot morebesides."
"Terriers are the smartest dogs there are, I guess," said Harry.
"Well, I don't know as I should want to say quite that," said Mr.Hartshorn. "Smartness and other qualities are as much a matter ofindividuals as of breeds. However, the terriers certainly have wonthat reputation."
"Do you know any good stories about them?" asked Harry, who wasnever backward in such matters. Mr. Hartshorn laughed.
"Unfortunately my memory for stories isn't very good," said he, "but Ihave lots of stories in books, and before you boys come up again, I'lllook up some of them. Meanwhile, see if they have a book in theBoytown Library by Edward Jesse, called 'Anecdotes of Dogs.' It waspublished in London in 1858, and it isn't very common, but if you canfind a copy, it's a dandy. It contains most of the historic dogstories. It includes several stories about terriers, chieflyillustrating their intelligence, but also their devotion. Many ofthem, I recall, are stories of dogs that found their way home overunknown roads after being carried away for long distances. This hominginstinct seems to be very strong in the terrier. The breed has alwaysbeen a very close and intimate companion of man, and that hassharpened his wits and deepened his sympathies.
"The only terrier story that I recall at the moment is a
littleanecdote that illustrates the terrier's shrewdness rather than hisuprightness of character. A lady music teacher was going to the homeof one of her pupils one day when some sort of wire-haired terriersurprised and startled her by running out from a field and seizing herskirt in his teeth. She tried to drive him away, but he wouldn't go.Becoming somewhat alarmed by his actions, she called to two laborerswho were working in the field, and they came to her assistance.
"'He wants you to go with him, ma'am," one of the men said. 'I'veheard of dogs actin' like that. Maybe it's a murder or something. Iguess we'd better go along.'
"They followed the dog to the rear of a cottage, and he at once beganto dig feverishly at a heavy plank. The workmen, half expecting tofind a corpse, lifted the plank, only to disclose a large beef bone.This the terrier at once appropriated and made off with it, withoutwaiting to express his thanks for assistance."
The boys laughed over this story, and thanked Mr. Hartshorn warmly forthe interesting things he had told them. Then, squabblinggood-naturedly over the possession of the dog book, they hurried offto catch the late afternoon train back to Boytown.
It was not long before they had another lesson in dog lore, thoughthis time it was not Mr. Hartshorn who was their teacher. The nextSaturday the three of them made another trip to Thornboro to returnthe book, in the fascinating contents of which they had been revelingfor a week. They met Tom Poultice on the road with half a dozen of thedogs out for exercise. They were a lively lot, and it took about allof Tom's attention to keep them in hand.
"Mr. 'Artshorn isn't 'ome to-day," said Tom. "You come along with meand the dogs and I'll show you some fun. You can leave the book up atthe 'ouse when we get back."
The boys accepted this as a rare privilege, and for an hour or twoaccompanied Tom and his troublesome pack about the country roads. Thebull terriers were fairly well behaved, but the Airedales seemed bentupon getting into all kinds of mischief. On two occasions Tom had hishands full breaking up what promised to become a free-for-all fight.But the boys could not help admiring the boundless vigor of these dogswho seemed hardly able to contain all the youth and joy and lifewithin them. It made the boys want to run and romp and caper insympathy.
As they entered the drive at Willowdale on their return, they saw asweet-faced woman standing on the porch with a little woolly white dogbeside her.
"That's Mrs. 'Artshorn," said Tom. "You can give the book to 'er.She'd like you to stop and speak to 'er."
Somewhat shyly the boys followed his advice, but Mrs. Hartshorn, likeher husband, seemed to have the faculty of making them soon feel attheir ease. She at once introduced them to Daisy, her toy whitepoodle. Daisy's long hair had been trimmed and clipped in aridiculous manner that made the boys laugh, but she soon provedherself to be as smart as a whip. Mrs. Hartshorn put her through allher pretty tricks.
"I suppose, after seeing all those Airedales and bull terriers, youwon't think much of my little dogs," said Mrs. Hartshorn. "TomPoultice is very scornful about toys. But a dog is a dog, no matterhow little. I want you to come in and see my prize Pomeranian, Tip."
They followed her into the house and up a broad staircase. At the topshe turned and said:
"I think Tip is in the nursery with the baby. Don't be startled if hetries to eat you up. You needn't be quiet, because it's about time forbaby's nap to be over."
She ushered them into the nursery, a pretty pink and white room, andthere lay a handsome, chocolate-colored little dog on a mat beside awhite crib. At the sight of strangers Tip growled a little and showedhis white teeth.
"Don't you want to take a look at the baby?" asked Mrs. Hartshorn,with a twinkle in her eyes.
Harry Barton stepped bravely forward, but was met by an attack sosavage that he hastily retired. Tip did not bark; barking was notpermitted in the nursery. But he defended his charge with a ferocityquite out of proportion to his diminutive size.
"Lie down, Tip," said Mrs. Hartshorn, laughing. "It's all right." AndTip retired, grumbling, to his rug.
Pomeranian]
"He's little, but, oh, my!" said Mrs. Hartshorn. "I don't believe oneof you would dare to touch that baby with Tip anywhere around. Nowisn't he a dog, after all?"
The boys admitted quite readily that he was.
"He chased a tramp away once," said she. "The tramp came to thefront door when Mr. Hartshorn was away, and spoke so roughly to mymaid that I was really quite frightened. Tip heard him and came outlike a flash. The man swore and kicked at him. Nothing makes a dog soangry as kicking at him, and Tip jumped and nipped the man's finger.He swore again, but Tip renewed his attack to such good purpose thatthe man backed away and finally retreated in disorder with Tip at hisheels. I've known big dogs that couldn't do so much."
The boys looked upon Tip with new respect.
"Now come and see my Pekes," said Mrs. Hartshorn.
The boys followed her into another room where two Pekingese spanielsgot lazily out of a basket and came forward to greet her. And for thenext few minutes the boys found infinite amusement playing with thefluffy little pets.