Chapter 45

DOGS AND HORSES

It was definitely decided in August that Jane was not to go back to Farmington. We had all been of two minds over this question, and it was a comfort to have it settled, though I always suspect that my share of it was not beyond the suspicion of selfishness.

Jane was just past nineteen. She had a fair education, so far as books go, and she did not wish to graduate simply for the honor of a diploma. Indeed, there were many studies between her and the diploma which she loathed. She could never understand how a girl of healthy mind could care for mathematics, exact science, or dead languages. English and French were enough for her tongue, and history, literature, and metaphysics enough for her mind.

"I can learn much more from the books in your library and from the dogs and horses than I can at school, besides being a thousand times happier; and oh, Dad, if you will let me have a forge and workshop, I will make no end of things."

This was a new idea to me, and I looked into it with some interest. I knew that Jane was deft with her fingers, but I did not know that she had a special wish to cultivate this deftness or to put it to practical use.

"What can you do with a forge?" said I. "You can't shoe the horses or sharpen the ploughs. Can you make nails? They are machine-made now, and you couldn't earn ten cents a week, even at horse-shoe nails."

"I don't want to make nails, Dad; I want to work in copper and brass, and iron, too, but in girl fashion. Mary Town has a forge in Hartford, and I spent lots of Saturdays with her. She says that I am cleverer than she is, but of course she was jollying me, for she makes beautiful things; but I can learn, and it's great fun."

"What kind of things does this young lady make, dear?"

"Lamp-shades, paper-knives, hinges, bag-tops, buckles, and lots of things. She could sell them, too, if she had to. It's like learning a trade, Dad."

"All right, child, you shall have a forge, if you will agree not to burn yourself up. Do you roll up your sleeves and wear a leather apron?"

"Why, of course, just like a blacksmith; only mine will be of soft brown leather and pinked at the edges."

So Jane was to have her forge. We selected a site for it at once in the grove to the east of the house and about 150 yards away, and set the carpenter at work. The shop proved to be a feature of the place, and soon became a favorite resort for old and young for five o'clock teas and small gossiping parties. The house was a shingled cottage, sixteen by thirty-two, divided into two rooms. The first room, sixteen by twenty, was the company room, but it contained a work bench as well as the dainty trappings of a girl's lounging room. In the centre of the wall that separated the rooms was a huge brick chimney, with a fireplace in the front room and a forge bed in the rear room, which was the forge proper.

I suppose I must charge the $460 which this outfit cost to the farm account and pay yearly interest on it, for it is a fixture; but I protest that it is not essential to the construction of a factory farm, and it may be omitted by those who have no daughter Jane.

There were other things hinging on Jane's home-staying which made me think that, from the standpoint of economy, I had made a mistake in not sending her back to Farmington. It was not long before the dog proposition was sprung upon me; insidiously at first, until I had half committed myself, and then with such force and sweep as to take me off my prudent feet. My own faithful terrier, which had dogged my heels for three years, seemed a member of the family, and reasonably satisfied my dog needs. That Jane should wish a terrier of some sort to tug at her skirts and claw her lace was no more than natural, and I was quite willing to buy a blue blood and think nothing of the $20 or $30 which it might cost. We canvassed the list of terriers,--bull, Boston, fox, Irish, Skye, Scotch, Airedale, and all,--and had much to say in favor of each. One day Jane said:--

"Dad, what do you think of the Russian wolf-hound?"

"Fine as silk," said I, not seeing the trap; "the handsomest dog that runs."

"I think so, too. I saw some beauties in the Seabright kennels. Wouldn't one of them look fine on the lawn?--lemon and white, and so tall and silky. I saw one down there, and he wasn't a year old, but his tail looked like a great white ostrich feather, and it touched the ground. Wouldn't it be grand to have such a dog follow me when I rode. Say, Dad, why not have one?"

"What do you suppose a good one would cost?"

"I don't know, but a good bit more than a terrier, if they sell dogs by size. May I write and find out?"

"There's no harm in doing that," said I, like the jellyfish that I am.

Jane wasted no time, but wrote at once, and at least seventeen times each day, until the reply came, she gave me such vivid accounts of the beauties of the beasts and of the pleasure she would have in owning one, that I grew enthusiastic as well, and quite made up my mind that she should not be disappointed. When the letter came, there was suppressed excitement until she had read it, and then excitement unsuppressed.

"Dad, we can have Alexis, son of Katinka by Peter the Great, for $125! See what the letter says: 'Eleven months old, tall and strong in quarters, white, with even lemon markings, better head than Marksman, and a sure winner in the best of company.' Isn't that great? And I don't think $125 is much, do you?"

"Not for a horse or a house, dear, but for a dog--"

"But you know, Dad, this isn't a common dog. We mustn't think of it as a dog; it's a barzoi; that isn't too much for a barzoi, is it?"

"Not for a barzoi, or a yacht either; I guess you will have to have one or the other."

"The Seabright man says he has a girl dog by Marksman out of Katrina that is the very picture of Alexis, only not so large, and he will sell both to the same person for $200; they are such good friends."

"Break away, daughter, do you want a steam launch with your yacht?"

"But just think, Dad, only $75 for this one. You save $50, don't you see?"

"Dimly, I must confess, as through a glass darkly. But, dear, I may come to see it through your eyes and in the light of this altruistic dog fancier. I'm such a soft one that it's a wonder I'm ever trusted with money."

The natural thing occurred once more; the fool and his money parted company, and two of the most beautiful dogs came to live on our lawn. To live on our lawn, did I say? Not much! Such wonderful creatures must have a house and grounds of their own to retire to when they were weary of using ours, or when our presence bored them. The kennel and runs were built near the carriage barn, the runs, twenty by one hundred feet, enclosed with high wire netting. The kennel, eight by sixteen, was a handsome structure of its kind, with two compartments eight by eight (for Jane spoke for the future), and beds, benches, and the usual fixtures which well-bred dogs are supposed to require.

The house for these dogs cost $200, so I was obliged to add another $400 to the interest-bearing debt. "If Jane keeps on in this fashion," thought I, "I shall have to refund at a lower rate,"--and she did keep on. No sooner were the dogs safely kennelled than she began to think how fine it would look to be followed by this wonderful pair along the country roads and through the streets of Exeter. To be followed, she must have a horse and a saddle and a bridle and a habit; and later on I found that these things did not grow on the bushes in our neighborhood. I drew a line at these things, however, and decided that they should not swell the farm account. Thus I keep from the reader's eye some of the foolishness of a doting parent who has always been as warm wax in the hands of his, nearly always, reasonable children.

In my stable were two Kentucky-bred saddlers of much more than average quality, for they had strains of warm blood in their veins. There is no question nowadays as to the value of warm blood in either riding or driving horses. It gives ability, endurance, courage, and docility beyond expectation. One-sixteenth thorough blood will, in many animals, dominate the fifteen-sixteenths of cold blood, and prove its virtue by unusual endurance, stamina, and wearing capacity.

The blue-grass region of Kentucky has furnished some of the finest horses in the world, and I have owned several which gave grand service until they were eighteen or twenty years old. An honest horseman at Paris, Kentucky, has sold me a dozen or more, and I was willing to trust his judgment for a saddler for Jane. My request to him was for a light-built horse; weight, one thousand pounds; game and spirited, but safe for a woman, and one broken to jump. Everything else, including price, was left to him.

In good time Jane's horse came, and we were well pleased with it, as indeed we ought to have been. My Paris man wrote: "I send a bay mare that ought to fill the bill. She is as quiet as a kitten, can run like a deer, and jump like a kangaroo. My sister has ridden her for four months, and she is not speaking to me now. If you don't like her, send her back."

But I did like her, and I sent, instead, a considerable check. The mare was a bright bay with a white star on her forehead and white stockings on her hind feet, stood fifteen hands three inches, weighed 980 pounds, and looked almost too light built; but when we noted the deep chest, strong loins, thin legs, and marvellous thighs, we were free to admit that force and endurance were promised. Jane was delighted.

"Dad, if I live to be a hundred years old, I will never forget this day. She's the sweetest horse that ever lived. I must find a nice name for her, and to-morrow we will take our first ride, you and Tom and Aloha and I--yes, that's her name."

We did ride the next day, and many days thereafter; and Aloha proved all and more than the Kentuckian had promised.