Brownsmiths Boy - A Romance in a Garden - Page 141/241

"Get out!" shouted Mr Solomon as the sour-looking man closed and

fastened the doors; but the dogs barked the more furiously. "Here, come

along," said Mr Solomon to me, and he took me up to the great

furious-looking hound on whose neck, as I approached, I could see a

brass collar studded with spikes, while as we closed up, his white teeth

glistened, and I could see right into his great red mouth with its black

gums.

"Hi, Nero!" cried Mr Solomon, as I began to feel extremely nervous.

"Steady, boy. This is Grant. Now, Grant, make friends."

There was a tremendous chorus of barks here, just as if Nero was out of

patience, and the other four dogs were savage because he was going to be

fed with the new boy before them; but as Mr Solomon laid his hand on

the great fierce-looking beast's head it ceased barking, and the others

stopped as well.

"He won't hurt you now," said Mr Solomon. "Come close."

I did not like the task, for I was doubtful of the gardener's knowledge,

but I did go close up, and the great dog began to smell me from my toes

upwards, and subsided into a low growl that sounded like disappointment

that he was not to eat me.

"Pat him now," said Mr Solomon.

I obeyed rather nervously, and the great dog threw up his head and began

striking at me with one great paw, which I found meant that it was to be

taken, and I gave it a friendly shake.

Hereupon there was a chorus of short sharp whining barks and snaps from

the other dogs, all of which began to strain at their chains with

renewed vigour.

"Go and pat 'em all," said Mr Solomon; "they'll make friends now."

I went to the great shaggy Newfoundland, who smelt me, and then threw

himself up on his hind legs, and hanging against his chain put out his

tongue in the most rollicking fashion, and offered me both his hands--I

mean paws--in token of friendship. Then the retriever literally danced,

and yelped, and jumped over his chain, favouring me with a lick or two

on the hand, while the two spotted coach-dogs cowered down, licked my

boots, and yelped as I patted them in turn.

Only so many dogs, who barked again as I left them, but it seemed to do

me good, and I felt better and readier to help Mr Solomon when he

called me to aid in unharnessing the horse, which trotted of its own

free-will into its stable, while we ran the cart back into the shed, and

lifted my box out on to the stones.

"That'll be all right till we fetch it," said Mr Solomon in his quiet

dry way, and he led the way into the stable, where, as I was thinking

how hard and unfriendly he seemed, he went up to the horse, patted it

kindly, and ended by going to a bin, filling a large measure with oats;

and taking them to the horse, which gave a snort of satisfaction as they

were turned into its manger.