bruce(布鲁斯)-第7节
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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？〃
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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
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Bruce
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
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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
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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 chi
