The Young Dragoon: Every Day Life of a SoldierDrayson, Alfred W. (Alfred Wilks)
History
The Young Dragoon: Every Day Life of a Soldier
Drayson, Alfred W. (Alfred Wilks)
Soldiers -- Juvenile fiction
"`Come on!' said the old man, `and with this hammer,' (flourishing it
over his head) `I will be thy butcher,' said he. Still Turk trotted on,
apparently undismayed, until within a few yards of the stonebreaker, who
lost his temper and threw the hammer with all his force at the head of
Turk. The bulldog jumped aside and avoided the murderous weapon, then,
with a short, sharp growl, he dashed at the old man, who turned round
and stooped towards the stone-heap for one to throw at the dog. Turk
instantly took advantage of the man's position by seizing hold of his
breeches, which he tore to shreds, and then, as if satisfied with the
assault, he cantered up the lane and crept into his kennel to meditate
upon his plan of revenge upon poor little Prim. How was he to get
square with the terrier for biting his tail? Plan after plan was turned
over in his mind as he lay with his head between his paws just outside
the kennel, his upper lip curled up, and showing a formidable set of
snow-white teeth. He hated even the flies as they dropped on his nose,
and crawled around his bleary-looking eyes, bloodshot with rage. At
last he thought of a plan. True, it would not be a very agreeable one
for himself, but what of that? He was a thorough-bred bulldog, and
nothing should stand between him and his plan of revenge.
"Hitherto Turk's appetite had been good; he had never been known to
desert a bone until it was as bare and as shiny as his own teeth. He
gradually began to leave off his inroads upon the farmer's kitchen, and
the wife thought he must in consequence be sick. In vain he was tempted
with the choicest bits, raw and cooked; he gazed at them with a longing
look, and even condescended to snuff in their savoury odours, but that
was all. One bite sufficed for his breakfast, two or three for his
dinner, and be retired into the farthest end of his kennel supperless.
"A Brummagem dog-fancier was sent for, and notwithstanding Turk's
determined opposition, some medicine was forced down his throat, which,
it was said, would give him an appetite as good as a famished gorilla in
about a couple of days. But the two days passed without restoring his
appetite; he grew thinner and thinner, and the farmer at last gave him
up as incurable, assigning as his reason that he must be in a `dog
consumption.'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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