Rensselaer Republican, Volume 27, Number 19, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 3 January 1895 — THE COLONEL AND JIM. [ARTICLE]

THE COLONEL AND JIM.

Youth's Companion. a The Colonel was quiet and a inan of settled habits; Jim was lively and liked variety. The Colonel was tall and dignified of demeanor; Jim was small, sharp-eyed, and his little 43tump tail made him look ridiculous, Yet they were .the best of friends. They were inseparable companions too, except for an occasional hour when the Colonel sat writing and Jim went out to watch for woodchucks. Between Jim and Ann Eliza, the housekeeper, there was <iot the cordiality of feeling that the Colonel, and Jim himself, desired. Ann Eliza thought dogs had their places; she thought they should be kept in that place, and she tried to -keep Jim there —to-wit, out of doors. The mild Colonel usually let Ann Eliza have her own way in the household; but Jim asserted himself with a persistency more than equal to her Own, and often triumphed over fixed principles. The Colonel and Jim had but an occasional difference of opinion. It occurred whenever a certain carriage drew up before the Colonel's modest gate. Jim resented the approach of so fine an equipage; he seemed no friend to gold-mounted harness. Moreover, he did not like the looks of thelady with eyeglasses who descended from the carriage to make a call on the Colonel. And he altogether condemned the fat little pug that sat up beside the coachman *nd blinked down disdainfully at him.

In vain did Jim yelp lustily at the top of his voice, and jump about lustily and pat the, ground invitingly with his pajs. The pug would not come jflrown— he had made that experiment once in the early part of his career. Jim had pounced upon him and rolled him aver in a mud puddle so quickly that the- pug hardly had sufficient presence of mind to howl. Then the lady with the glasses had jhrieked, the coachman had jumped town with the whip, and the Colonel had dragged Jim off the prostrate pug. The Colonel then lifted the pug, wiped off some mud with his handkerchief and restored him to his irate mistress politely, yet with a gleam in his eye that was not wholly apology. “I don’t see what m akes you keep -t fighting creature like that, Maliolm," coinplained the lady. “I bate bulldogs." “Jim isn't a bulldog," replied the i Colonel, as warmly as was consistent with courtesy. “What is he, then?" The Colonel was silent. ■“ls he a dog with a pedigree? Puggie has a beautiful pedigree, all written out." Now the truth was that Jim had wandered in at the Colonel’s door, a little vagabond puppy, from whence the Colonel knew not. “I do not think Americans need tare for pedigrees,” said the Colonel, with dignity. Ann Eliza, you keep Jim in the kitchen while my sister-in-law is here.” ' To Jim’s surprise. Ann Eliza patted him and gave him a bone while It was yet between meals. Probably Aiin Eliza did not like pugs, either. After the departure of the carriage the Colonel called Jim and reasoned with him.

“Jim. my little chap, there are -times when really one has to be polite, whether one wants to or not.” Jim did not commit himself to a reply. “Now, that lady’, Jim. she Was the wife of my brother, who was in the war with me, and was killed in the battle that save me this bulletin <ny leg Do you understand what I say, Jim?” 'Fbe little fellow looked him soberly 'ln the f vie. “She s married again, Jim—a rich dry goods man. You don’t know much about dry goods, do you? Well, I don’t either, but she always seems to. She calls here regularly once a year, and she thinks that’s doing pretty well, considering how -e ch she is, and we’re not. So no matter how we feel about it, we’re going to be polite. Will you remember?" And so their disagreement ended for that time. Every morning the Colonel and Jim took a walk to town together after the mail. When the clock •truck 10 Jim usually hinted that it was time to start. If his suggestions were unheeded be emphasized his opinion bv divers sharp yelps. By 10:15 the Colonel was obliged to begin to look for his hat, and by twenty minutes past they were fairly off, the Colonel walking rather .•flow because of the bullet in his leg, And Jim flying all about the street and growling up fiercely to every ■dog be met, little or big. But a morning came when Jim failed to appear at the usual hour. IThe Colonel waited till 10:30, but no little paw scratched at his knee and no little voice whined imploringly. JBLeknew he ought to start, for Ann

Eliza did not like him to be late at dinner. But he wasted as much time as possible looking for his hat, and after he had started he returned to the house to get a clean handkerchief. Still Jim did not appear. Ann Eliza, however, came to the back door- and -stood jratchingr So the Colonel went straight down the street, only giving, as he turned into Main street, a little whistle. The Colonel hurried a little on his homeward way. He whistled again as he turned off Main street toward his cottage, but he saw only Ann Eliza standing in the doorway, and he knew from her attitude that she was thinking the soup was standing too long. However, when the Colonel sat down to dinner he did not notice about the soup. He ate but little and soon went back to his chair in the library. Ann Eliza cleared the table and filled a plate with juicy scraps and rich bones. She might not wholly approve of Jim, but she ministered faithfully to his appetite. She set the plate on the doorstep. “Here’s your dinner, Jim, - ’ she called. The Colonel"listened in anxious silence. She went to the door again. , “Jim!” she called sharply. There was no response. The Colonel le*t his paper fail and rose as Ann Eliza came in. “Do you know where Jim is?” asked the woman. “He’s right on hand for dinner generally, especially when we have soup. He’s uncommon fond of beef bones, and smells ’em a mile off.”

“He didn’t go down town with me,” the Colonel confessed. “He wasn’t here. 1 thought perhaps you knew where he was.” Ann Eliza reflected. “I don’t know nothin’ about him.” “When was the last time you saw him?” “The last time I see him it was just after breakfast,” she said rather slowly. “Now, Ann Eliza, what did you say to him?” Ann Eliza bridled. “I didn’t say nothin’ at all that he need to mind. He’d tracked mud all over my clean floor, and I just shoved him with the broom, and says I. ‘Het out er here, ye little nuisance!’ says I; but land, Colonel, he don’t mind that. I’ve said .it to him forty times. He sidled out this morning as if he knew I was jokin’.” “Now, Ann Eliza, you ought not to talk to Jimmie like that. He isn’t like other dogs; he’s sensitive. Which way did he go after that?” "Well, I went for the mop, and I think he went the other way. When I came back with the mop I recollect seein’ them King boys cornin’ up over the hill, and Jim settin’ out in the road ready to bark at ’em. Land sakes, Colonel, you don’t think —” and Ann Eliza raised the corner of her apron in a way so suggestive of tears that the Colonel retreated at once.

The afternoon passed with no word from Jim. The Colonel made little pretense of eating supper, and there was a look about his face that made Ann Eliza refrain from conversation; and when she refrained from conversation it meant a good deal. In the evening a good-hearted neighbor, Luke Fairfield’s wife, came to the door and called Ann Eliza in a rasping whisper: “Ann Eliza where is Jim?" ‘Sh h-h!” The Colonel stole to the window and listened. “Don’t talk so loud. Jim’s lost. Been gone all day. Colonel, he’s in a dreadful takin’. He couldn’t eat no supper, and he says his limb’s painin’ him. Land, ’tain’t no limb, it’s just his'worryin’ over that little dog.” The Colonel winced a little, but strained his ears to hear.

“You don’t say! Well, Luke, when he was cornin’ home tonight, he thought he see Jim up by the King boy’s barn, a-howlin’. Don’t ye know sometimes when the Colonel goes off to call on his sister-in-law, and don’t take Jim, how he’ll set and howl? Well, the dog was settin' and howlin' like that." “I want to know! Now how in the world did Jim get up to the King’s place?” “Them King boys are awful critters," said Mrs. Luke. “ ’Sposethey stole him?” • ■■ —

“That’s what they done,” said Ann Eliza, conclusively. “They giust ’a stole him just after I see ’em cornin’ over the hill this mornin.’ Now, don’t you say one word about it, and I’ll go over in the mornin’ and git him. 1 bet I’ll give them King boys a piece of my mind, too." It was about 8 o’clock when Mrs. Luke departed. Some fifteen minutes later the Colonel was noiselessly going down the path to the front gate. Now a walk to the King boys place was out of the question for the Colonel. No one knew that better than he. He had not walked more than half a mile at a time since that bullet lodged in his leg; and it was a good two miles to the tumble-down cottage of the Kings. But the Colonel turned in the direction of the King place, though his evening custom was to walk a few steps the other way. “I wish I were able to walk so far,” he thought. “How lonesome Jim must be. How glad he would be to see me!” Hero he abandoned himself to certain pleasing reminiscences of Jim’s affectionate ways; It was past midnight when he reached the place. After all,no sound of Jim came from the barn. What if Jim were not there, after all? The Colonel began to feel rather foolish,

and half a mind to start for home before any one found him out. Then suddenly came a wailing howl, prolonged and violent. Only Jim, in all the country round, could produce it. The Colonel strode down the hill like a boy. He flung open the gate, marched up to the front door and rang the crazy bell. There was no response. He pulled again. After long waiting a window opened over his head “What do you want?” called a woman's voice. i “I want my dog.” “Well, I ain’t got him.” “He’s out here in your barn. Tell Orrin King to come out here. ” “He ain’t to home-” “Tell his brother to come.” “He ain’t to home neither.” The Colonel stood still a minute. He could not make war upon a woman. Yet he did not intend to go home without Jim. The woman herself decided the matter.

,‘lf you want him you’ll have to git him,” she called, and dropped the window. “I don't know nothin’ about him.” The Colonel went down the walk and across to the barn, where he gave a low whistle. Yap! yap! answered Jim, in delighted recognition. The barn door was locked and the window, which was only a hole for ventilation, was a little higher than the Colonel’s head. He piled some loose boards to step on and painfully clambered up till he could look into the opening. Sure enough, there was Jim, jumping and yelping and tearing about frantically. “Come here, Jimmie,” called the Colonel. More yelps, more leaps, but no change in position. The little fellow grew almost frantic. “There, there, Jim.” said the Colonel, soothingly. “You keep still and I’ll get in and untie you.” He stopped, rubbed his knee a little and then made a spring. He caught the windowsill and slowly drew himself up, regardless of the pain it cost him, and at last perched himself on the narrow casement. Then he looked down more closely into the pitchy darkness of the shed. Two motionless balls of fire met his gaze. The Colonel knew they were the eyes of one of the fiercest bulldogs in the county.

The Colonel reflected. He was not fond of dogs in general. It was Jim and .Tim only who possessed his affections. He would rather have faced a battery than meet that bulldog; yet when Jim began to howl again the Colonel turned and slowly began to lower himself into the blackness of the shed. At that instant the sound of wheels came along the road. The King boys were being brought home by a passing neighbor.— The Colonel felt himself to be in a hard place. A few minutes before he had greatly wanted to meet those young men and demand from them his dog, But to be found hanging to the window of the barn, with a savage bulldog beneath him! No! y.-' -.- It seemed to him he was hanging there for hours, though it was really but a few minutes. The continued howling of Jim brought Orrin King to the door at once. “You go lay down there and keep still,” he shouted, giving the door an angry kick. The bulldog, thinking the command addressed to himself, lay down quietly, and the Colonel dropped safely to the floor. In an instant he was beyond the reach of the savage creature's chain, and had caught Jim up into his arms. His dear little Jim!

Jim had no notion of rejoicing in silence. Loud yelps of joy cleft the midnight stillness. Vainly did the Colone l try to smother the sounds in his coat. In a minute Orrin King came striding back, cracking a whip. At that sound the bulldog crept fearfully into his corner, and Jim cowered down close to the Colonel's breast. Poor fellow! Had he known it already? The Colonel drew himself erect and waited. Young King unlocked the padlock and attempted to raise the old-fash-ioned latch. Quick as thought the Colonel leaned forward, thrust his finger into the opening, and thus prevented the latch from lifting so that the door could be opened. King tried it again. He took the handle of his whip and pounded upon it. Yet the latch did not quite open. Finally he swore at the dogs with a parting threat, and went back to the house. Then the Colonel withdrew his crushed and bleeding finger, and, trying to think it did not pain him, turned to go. “Let’s get out of here as quick as we can," he whispered to Jim. “We’d better go right home, and let Ann Eliza poultice us up.” When Mrs. Luke came Qyer the next morning Jim did not stir from his bed, but cracked out his customary bark. “Land. Jim’s got home, ain’t he?” she remarked, disappointedly. “When’d he come?”

“Early this morning,” replied Ann Eliza, directly under the Colonel’s window, “Jim’s all right, but the Colonel, he’s sick.” “You don’t say! Is his leg bad again?" “Dreadful... I made him a poultice for ft. He’s got a bad finger, too. Ho says it gat pinched. I poulticed that, too.’’ “You don’t say. Does he know Jim’s got back? ’ Ann Eliza sniffed a little. Then the Colonel heard that shrill whisper again. “Oh, he knows that fast enough.

I’ll bet you anything now that he walked clean over to them King boys and got Jim himself last night. But he don’t s’pose I know it.” Then the Colonel turned his face on the pillow and sighed. -