In the time of Landseer a familiar figure about the streets of London was the itinerant dealer in dog's meat. His outfit consisted of a square covered wheelbarrow in which he carried the meat, a basket, a pair of scales, knives, skewers, and similar tools of his trade. His assistant was a dog, whose duty was to guard the meat barrow while the butcher called for orders or delivered his goods. In this capacity a dog would serve even better than a boy, in keeping hungry animals from his master's property. There is a quaint old saying that "it takes a rogue to catch a rogue." The dog's wages were all the meat he could eat, and having satisfied himself to the point of gluttony, there would be no danger of any inroads on the meat from him.

In our picture a butcher has left his barrow standing on the cobble-stone pavement at the corner of the narrow entrance to a square. His dog Jack controls the situation in his absence, and rules with undisputed authority.

Such is the master's confidence in the dog's ability to manage, that he has taken no pains to put the meat away in the barrow. A large cut is left in the scale pan, and a basket on the pavement contains some choice bits. Naturally the tempting odor has drawn a number of stray street dogs to the place.

From his elevated position Jack surveys them as a monarch receiving a throng of obsequious courtiers. As a matter of fact he is himself a low mongrel cur, vastly inferior in origin to some of the surrounding dogs. Circumstances having raised him to a position of authority he regards them all with supercilious disdain. A miserable, half starved hound approaches the basket with eyes fixed hungrily on the contents, the tail drooping between the shaking legs, the attitude expressing the most abject wretchedness. He is a canine Uriah Heep professing himself "so 'umble." Behind is a retriever, uplifting a begging paw, and farther away are other eager dogs. A puppy in front has just finished eating, and, still gnawing the skewer, looks up to ask for more.

Not one of them all dares touch the meat, though Jack moves not a muscle to prevent them. It is a question whether an overfed, tight-skinned animal like this would prove a very redoubtable enemy in a fight. Jack's influence, however, is due in no small measure to his sagacious air of importance. Seated on his haunches, he holds between his fore legs the handle of the scales as the insignia of office. A broad collar and a small leather harness show he has to take his own turn in serving another. Ignoring the appeal of the puppy, he turns to the group of larger dogs, regarding them with a contemptuous expression of his half-closed eyes. He has been a keen observer of dog nature, and knows what value to place upon the professions of these fawning creatures.

The situation inevitably suggests corresponding relations in human life. It often happens that a man of inferior qualities is raised to some position of authority which he holds with arrogant assumption. Himself the servant of another, he delights in the exercise of a petty tyranny. He is forthwith surrounded by a throng of flatterers seeking the benefits he has to bestow. It is pitiable to see how some who were originally his superiors humiliate themselves before him. Like the sycophant hound and the imploring retriever, they seem to lose all sense of self-respect.

One can see how easily the picture of Jack in Office could be converted into a caricature, and it is not surprising to learn that it has been used in England as a political cartoon. American politics might also produce many a parallel situation. The party boss in a municipal government holding petty appointments in his control is a veritable Jack in Office surrounded by his followers.

The humor of the picture is, as we see, a trifle keener than in Dignity and Impudence. Arrogance and sycophancy are such despicable qualities, whether in dog or man, that they are held up not only for our laughter but for our contempt.

As may be inferred from our previous illustrations, the greater number of Landseer's dog subjects were drawn from animals of the finer breeds. Jack in Office is unique in our collection as dealing with the commoner animals of the street. Even here, however, the painter found material for his favorite theme of the dog's fidelity to his master. Jack is, as it were, the butcher's business partner, sharing alike in his labors and his gains. As we are to see again in our next picture, the dog which is made the companion of daily labor is even more to his master than one which is merely a playmate.

It is instructive to examine one by one the details of the composition, which the painter has rendered with much technical skill. The vista of the square at the end of the alley is a pleasant feature of the composition, giving a more spacious background to the group.