![]() Our fiat was three-well, not flights-climbs up. The house was the ordinary thing in New York, paved with Parian marble in the entrance hall and cobblestones above the first floor. It took two policemen to keep her from entering me at the Madison Square Garden for the Siberian bloodhound prize. ![]() She thought that the two primeval pups that Noah chased into the ark were but a collateral branch of my ancestors. >From a pedigreed yellow pup I grew up to be an anonymous yellow cur looking like a cross between an Angora cat and a box of lemons. Say, gentle reader, did you ever have a 200-pound woman breathing a flavour of Camembert cheese and Peau d'Espagne pick you up and wallop her nose all over you, remarking all the time in an Emma Eames tone of voice: "Oh, oo's um oodlum, doodlum, woodlum, toodlum, bitsy- witsy skoodlums?" From that moment I was a pet-a mamma's own wootsey squidlums. The fat lady chased a V around among the samples of gros grain flannelette in her shopping bag till she cornered it, and gave up. Old Mother Hubbard was boosting me to beat the band as a genuine Pomeranian-Hambletonian-Red-Irish-Cochin-China-Stoke-Pogis fox terrier. The first thing I can recollect, an old woman had me in a basket at Broadway and Twenty-third trying to sell me to a fat lady. I was born a yellow pup date, locality, pedigree and weight unknown. A yellow dog that's spent most of his life in a cheap New York flat, sleeping in a corner on an old sateen underskirt (the one she spilled port wine on at the Lady Longshoremen's banquet), mustn't be expectcd to perform any tricks with the art of speech. Kipling and a good many others have demonstrated the fact that animals can express themselves in remunerative English, and no magazine goes to press nowadays without an animal story in it, except the old-style monthlies that are still running pictures of Bryan and the Mont Pelee horror.īut you needn't look for any stuck-up literature in my piece, such as Bearoo, the bear, and Snakoo, the snake, and Tammanoo, the tiger, talk in the jungle books. I don't suppose it will knock any of you people off your perch to read a contribution from an animal.
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