Dogs -- Fiction; Great Britain. Royal Navy -- Fiction; Historical fiction; Seafaring life -- Fiction
But there was another personage on the deck, a personage of no small
importance, as he was all in all to Mr Vanslyperken; and Mr
Vanslyperken was all in all to him; moreover, we may say, that he is the
hero of the TAIL. This was one of the ugliest and most ill-conditioned
curs which had ever been produced: ugly in colour; for he was of a dirty
yellow, like the paint served out to decorate our men-of-war by his
Majesty's dockyards;--ugly in face; for he had one wall-eye, and was so
far under-jawed as to prove that a bull-dog had had something to do with
his creation;--ugly in shape; for although larger than a pointer, and
strongly built, he was coarse and shambling in his make, with his fore
legs bowed out. His ears and tail had never been docked which was a
pity as the more you curtailed his proportions the better looking the
cur would have been. But his ears, although not cut, were torn to
ribbons by the various encounters with dogs on shore, arising from the
acidity of his temper. His tail had lost its hair from an inveterate
mange, and reminded you of the same appendage to a rat. Many parts of
his body were bared from the same disease. He carried his head and tail
low, and had a villainous sour look. To the eye of a casual observer,
there was not one redeeming quality that would warrant his keep; to
those who knew him well, there were a thousand reasons why he should be
hanged. He followed his master with the greatest precision and
exactitude, walking aft as he walked aft, and walking forward with the
same regular motion, turning when his master turned, and, moreover,
turning in the same direction; and, like his master, he appeared to be
not a little nipped with the cold, and, as well as he, in a state of
profound meditation. The name of this uncouth animal was very
appropriate to his appearance, and to his temper. It was Snarleyyow.
At last, Mr Vanslyperken gave vent to his pent-up feelings. "I can't,
I won't stand this any longer," muttered the lieutenant, as he took his
six strides forward. At this first sound of his master's voice the dog
pricked up the remnants of his ears, and they both turned aft. "She has
been now fooling me for six years;" and as he concluded this sentence,
Mr Vanslyperken and Snarleyyow had reached the taffrail, and the dog
raised his tail to the half cock.
They turned, and Mr Vanslyperken paused a moment or two, and compressed
his thin lips; the dog did the same. "I will have an answer, by all
that's blue!" was the ejaculation of the next six strides. The
lieutenant stopped again, and the dog looked up in his master's face;
but it appeared as if the current of his master's thoughts was changed,
for the current of keen air reminded Mr Vanslyperken that he had not
yet had his breakfast.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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