The Black-Eyed Puppy

VII

EVERY day Mr. Bonelli took all of us down into a big cellar under the house.

There was a raised part at one end that he called a stage, and we had to get up on the stage and go through our tricks every day. If any dog made a mistake he had to go through his tricks all over again.

We all had sort of fancy things to wear when we were on the stage.

The other dogs wore cloth collars that came down over their breasts and a kind of saddle strapped around them. The collars and saddles were red, and had trimming around the edges.

I was dressed differently, because I was the clown dog. I wore a red cap that was cut so that it came round and fastened under my chin, and a big white thing round my neck that they called a ruff. I wore a little coat with my front legs put through the sleeves of it, and little striped trousers with my tail coming through at the back.

At first, when they dressed me that way, I felt so foolish I wanted to get down under a chair or sofa and hide, but afterwards I became used to it, and then I felt quite proud, and liked to be dressed in them.

Mr. Bonelli made me the clown dog because I could grin. The first thing he taught me was to grin whenever he made a certain sign with a little whip he always carried.

When he was teaching me he used to give me a bit of cake or sugar every time I grinned, so I was always glad when he made the sign for me to do it. But afterwards he stopped giving me the cake and sugar, but I had to grin just the same.

As soon as we were on the stage we had to run over to a row of chairs and jump up on them. There was a chair for each dog, and each dog had his own particular chair. We were never allowed to sit on any but our own chairs.

All the dogs except me sat with their backs against the backs of the chairs and their tails hanging down, but when I got up in my chair I turned with my head to the back of it and my tail toward the front. That was what I had been taught to do.

Mr. Bonelli would call to me and tell me to turn around, but I wouldn’t stir. He would call to me louder and louder, as if he was getting angry, but I wouldn’t pay any attention. At last he would come over and lift me up and set me down the right way, but as soon as he went away I would turn around again. We would do this several times, and at last he would say, “All right, Master Grineo, suit yourself then,” and would walk away and leave me.

Then I would turn round and sit the right way and grin at him, and he would seem very much surprised when he looked round and saw me sitting that way.

Later, when we acted in a theatre with people looking on, I found this trick always made the people laugh.

(Mr. Bonelli didn’t call it a trick, though; he called it an “act.”)

Another “act” we did was the Jumping Act.

A long board would be put on the stage with one end resting on something high so that it stuck up in the air. A mattress was always laid on the stage down below the high end. The dogs would run up the board and jump off on the mattress. The mattress was put there so they wouldn’t hurt their legs when they came down.

All the dogs would jump except me, but I would just sit and look on.

Then the mattress would be moved further off, and a chair would be put between it and the board. The dogs would run up the board and jump off the end and out over the chair and light on the mattress as before. Then the mattress would be moved further and two chairs put there. The little dogs would stop jumping then. But most of the larger dogs kept on.

Then two chairs and a table would be put there for them to jump over, and then two chairs and two tables, and so on. After a while the jumps would be so long that only Graceful and Punch could do them. They were both fine jumpers, but Graceful was the best.

Now I would get down from my chair and trot over to Mr. Bonelli and stand up on my hind legs in front of him and bark: “Bow-wow-wow-wow!”

“What, Grineo!” he would say. “You want to try it, too?”

“Bow-wow!”

“But that’s too long a jump for you.”

“Bow-wow-wow!”

“You think you can do it?”“Bow-wow.”

“Very well! Then go ahead, but I’m afraid you can’t do it, and you may hurt yourself, too.”

Then I would go back to the furthest edge of the stage, and run as hard as I could across the stage and up the board, and just as I got to the edge I would stop short and stand there with all my feet together and not jump at all. Then I would look round at Mr. Bonelli and grin.

“There!” he would say. “I knew you couldn’t do it. Come down now and let Graceful jump.” But I wouldn’t come down.

“Come, come!” he would cry impatiently. “You’re keeping everybody waiting. Come down, I say.”

Still I wouldn’t move, and then Graceful would run up the board and jump right over me and far out over the chairs and tables, and land on the mattress so lightly you scarcely knew when he touched it. Even Punch was not able to make that last long jump, only Graceful. After that last jump I would come down from the board and go back to my chair again.

Then we would play ball. Mr. Bonelli would toss a big bright ball to one after another of the dogs, and each dog would jump up in the air and catch it and bring it back to him.

After they had played for a while I would jump down from my chair and run over in front of him, and stand up on my hind legs and wave my paws.

“So!” he would cry. “You want to play, too, do you?”

“Bow-wow-wow!” I would bark.

“Very well,” he would say; “then catch.”

He would throw the ball to me, and I would catch it as the others had done, but instead of bringing it back to him I would run away with it, and he would chase me all around the stage and pretend to get very angry.

At last he would cry, “Police! Police!”

Graceful would jump right over me.Then Frolic, who had jumped down from his chair and had run out a little while before, would come in walking on his hind legs and dressed like a policeman. A black stick was strapped to his paw, and he would come hopping over toward me and wave the stick as if he meant to hit me, and I would pretend to be frightened and would drop the ball and run and hide under a chair.

Frolic would go out again, and after he had gone I would come out from under the chair and sit down in front of Mr. Bonelli, and beg again and wave my paws up and down.

Mr. Bonelli would say, “So you want to play again. Sure you won’t run away with the ball this time?”

I would wave my paws harder.

“Very well, we’ll try once more, but remember! If you play any more of your tricks I’ll call the policeman again, and then he’ll take you away and shut you in the lock-up.”

And now would come the most difficult trick I ever had to learn. It was one that none of the other dogs could do. I don’t know whether any other dog ever did it or not. When Mr. Bonelli threw the ball to me this time, I would catch it and throw it back to him. This I would do by jerking my head forward and letting go of the ball at the same time. We would throw it backward and forward three or four times, and then we would stop, for it was hard for me to do this, and after doing it three or four times I was tired.

After that I would rest awhile, and some of the other dogs would do their tricks. A long red carpet would be unrolled across the stage, and Frisco, and Snaps, and Diamond and Sancho would turn somersaults across it from one side of the stage to the other.

After they had done this for a while they would stop and go back to their chairs, and three little round barrels painted with stripes of red, white and blue would be brought in.This was an act for Sambo and Frolic and me. We would get on top of the barrels and roll them along with our feet from one end of the carpet to the other, always keeping on top of them and never falling off. That was a hard thing to do.

Then Graceful and Ruby would come in dressed like people. Graceful was the lady, with a skirt, and a hat with a feather in it, and Ruby was the gentleman, in a coat and trousers. Graceful’s dress was so long at the back that it trailed on the floor. The music played and they stood up on their hind legs and danced together, and after I had watched them for a while I would jump down and hop after them on my hind legs, and every now and then I would hop on Graceful’s train so he couldn’t dance and at last he would have to stop and run off the stage on all fours.

These are some of the acts we did, but there were a great many more of them.

The last of all was the “Fire Act.” A little house would be brought on the stage, and Mr. Bonelli would pretend to set fire to it. It was fixed so it wouldn’t really burn, but the fire was inside and came out of the windows, so it looked as though it were burning.

Then Graceful and Ruby would come galloping in harnessed to a little fire engine, with Sancho sitting up in front with the reins in his paws. Diamond stood on the back of the fire engine and kept pushing a gong with his paw so it went “Jang! jang! jang! jang! jang!”

There was a hose on the engine, and Judy had to catch it in her teeth and hold it so that when the water was turned on it would squirt on the house and seem to put the fire out.

We would get on top of the barrels and roll them along with our feet.

I was the little dog that ran about barking when the house was burning, and then pushed the other little dog off the engine and rang the bell myself. We none of us liked this act because of the fire. We were afraid of the fire. Still we had to do as we were told, and we had to practise this act over and over and over again because it was a hard one.

There were a great many other tricks besides these, as I said, but these are enough to show you the sort of things we did.

Every day we practised these things over and over until every one of us knew exactly what he was to do and when he was to do it.

Then one morning we didn’t practise. We played out in the yard and around the house, and we didn’t have any lessons.

In the afternoon two men came to the house, and Mr. Bonelli called to us and whistled us into the room where he and the men were.

“Come, my children!” said he. (He often called us his children.) “This afternoon we go to the theatre to practise, and we will see whether you can be as perfect there as here. Then tonight we will act in the show, and everybody will look and laugh and wonder at you.”I didn’t know what he meant, but he looked so kind and smiling I thought he must mean play. I guess the other dogs did, too, because we all began to bark and jump about him.

I did like Mr. Bonelli, but I didn’t love him the way I loved Tommy. I never could love anyone else the way I had loved Tommy.

Mrs. Bonelli came up from downstairs carrying in her arms the things we wore, and she and Mr. Bonelli dressed us. After that Mr. Bonelli put collars on our necks and fastened straps to them, and he and the men took hold of the straps and led us out of the house and into the wide, sunny street. How big and bright it seemed! I hadn’t been in the street for a long time.

We trotted along, the men leading some of us and Mr. Bonelli leading some, and everybody turned to stare at us and smiled, and a crowd of children followed after us, talking and calling. Some of them wanted to pat us, but Mr. Bonelli wouldn’t let them.After a while we came to the theatre. I had never been in a theatre before, and I didn’t know what the name meant at first, but I learned afterward. It is a great big place where crowds of people come to see dogs act. There is always a stage in a theatre, and bright lights. There are queer places back of the stage, and men hurry about and drag things round.

I was scared when I first saw it all and I stayed close to Mr. Bonelli’s legs and kept looking up at him, but the other dogs were used to it, they had been there before so many times. They sniffed about, and some of the men stopped and patted them.

Mr. Bonelli led us out on the stage, and then some men came with our chairs and set them in a row.

“Now, my children!” said Mr. Bonelli.

He pointed to the chairs and flicked his little whip, and we ran and got up in our places, only I forgot and sat down with my head turned toward him and my tail toward the back of the chair just the way the other dogs were sitting.

Mr. Bonelli wasn’t pleased with that. He spoke to me quite sharply, and then I remembered and turned round the other way,—the way he had taught me to sit.

The lights shone out along the edge of the stage and there was music somewhere in front of us, but Mr. Bonelli spoke to us just the way he always did. He came and turned me round in my chair, and when I turned back again he said, “All right, Master Grineo; suit yourself!” just as he did when we were at home, and so presently I didn’t feel strange any more.

We went through all our tricks as we did at home, and when we came to the end Mr. Bonelli went about among us, patting us and praising us. “Good! Good dogs! Well done!” he said.

We all felt so pleased we wagged our tails, and some of us jumped about and barked. Then we went home and had our suppers and lay down and rested for a while.

But that wasn’t all. Almost always when we had gone through our tricks once we had finished for the day; but that evening the men came to the house again, and Mr. Bonelli put collars and straps on us,—but he didn’t dress us in our fancy things this time. Mrs. Bonelli put the things in a big case and fastened it, and then we all set out, Mrs. Bonelli too.

We went the same way we had gone in the morning, and after we came to the theatre Mrs. Bonelli took us to a room downstairs, dressed us, and then upstairs again where the stage was.

We didn’t go on the stage right away, though. A man and woman were out on it. They were walking up and down and singing and talking. After a while they came off and went on again and came off, and then a big curtain came down in front so the stage was shut in like a room.“Now,” said Mr. Bonelli, “get those chairs on.”

Some men ran about and carried our chairs out on the stage. One of them almost fell over me.

Then the big curtain that had come down in front of the stage went up again, and Mr. Bonelli led us out on the stage.

He motioned to us to get up in our chairs and we did, and then I heard him speaking and a big noise as though a lot of people were clapping their hands. It made me feel so queer inside I wanted to turn round and bark and bark.

Then we began acting just as we did at home, and every now and then there would be the same sound of clapping hands. There were crowds and crowds of people out in front of the stage. Sometimes when I did my tricks they laughed and clapped, and then I wagged my tail and grinned. I wanted to do them over again but Mr. Bonelli wouldn’t let me.

Sometimes there was music. It was bigger than when Mrs. Bonelli played the piano. When we rolled the barrels and when we turned somersaults there was music. And when the dogs jumped off the board the big drum went “Bumb!” And there was music when Graceful and Ruby danced.

After a while it was all over, and we had to go off the stage. I didn’t want to go off one bit, but we had to. When the music began again I barked and ran out on the stage again, but a man ran after me and caught hold of me and pulled me back, and everybody laughed.

Then the collars were fastened around our necks, and the men came and took hold of the straps and we went home again.

That was our first night of acting. But there were many more after that. We acted for a long time at that same theatre. Night after night we acted there, and sometimes in the afternoons, too. I got so used to it that I didn’t think any more about it.

Clyx.com