It was impossible to resist such persevering affection, and at
length Mr. Hardwick gave up the contest, and allowed Caesar to travel when
and where he chose. But on Sunday he sat on the front-door step, erect
upon his haunches, with one ear dropping forward, and the other upright
like the point of a starched shirt-collar; and though on week-days he was
fond of paying the usual courtesies to his canine acquaintances, and (if
the truth must be told) of barking at strange horses occasionally, yet
nothing could induce him either to follow any of the family, or accost a
dog, or chase after foreign vehicles, on the day of rest. Once only he
forgot what was due to his character, and gave a few yelps in holy time.
But James, with a glance at his father, who was stoutly orthodox, averred
that Caesar's conduct was justifiable, inasmuch as the man he barked at
was one of a band of new-light fanatics who worshipped in the school-
house, and the horse, moreover, was not shod at a respectable place, but
at a tinker's shop in the verge of the township. A dog with such powers of
discrimination certainly merits a place in this true history.
The services of Sunday were finished. Those who, with dill and caraway,
had vainly struggled against drowsiness, had waked up with a jerk at the
benediction, and moved with their neighbors along the aisles, a slow and
sluggish stream.
Pages:
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119