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Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 100, January 10, 1891 by Various
page 7 of 42 (16%)
total, thirteen shillings and sixpence, as aforesaid. Truly a poor man
feeleth an amount like this, and hath to deny himself some necessary
to preserve his affectionate companion, to wit, his dog. I have taught
him, even as one would say, precisely, "thus would I teach a dog." O
'tis a foul thing when a dog cannot keep himself in all companies, but
must grub for garbage in the gutter, and yap at constables' kibes! I
would have, as one should say, one that takes upon himself to be a
dog indeed, to be, as it were, a dog at all things. And art thou so,
_Crab_? But verily 'tis I who have taught thee, that have also to
pay for thee; and, whether the art wholly worth the cost, concerns
not thee, but thy master. Thou hast of late many enemies in seats of
office, and elsewhere; ministers, and scribes, and feeble folk in
fidgety fear of hypothetical hydrophoby. "Out with the dog!" says
one. "That cur looks mad!" says another; "Muzzle him!" says the third.
"Knock me him on the head with a constable's staff!" cries the fourth;
"Give him _euthanasia_ at the Dog's Home!" suggests a fifth, with
more sensibility; "Tax him, collar him, badge him, make his owner
pay roundly for him!" saith the Minister of Agriculture. And they,
between them, make me no more ado than whip me thirteen and six out
of my pinched pocket to pay thee out of danger. How many masters
would do this for their servant? Nay, I'll be sworn I have paid
the fines inflicted by austere Magistrates, when thou, _Crab_,
hast surreptitiously slipped thy muzzle, otherwise thou hadst been
executed; I have "tipped" angry constables when thou hast stolen
out not "under control," otherwise thou hadst suffered for't: thou
thinkest not of this now! Nay, I remember the trick thou servedst me
anigh the end of the year, when I had so far successfully dodged the
Dog Tax for that season: did I not bid thee still mark me, and keep
out of sight when the rate-collector called? When didst thou see me
rush headlong upstairs and make madly for the collector's calves?
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