But his speciality was stopping runaway horses, thereby saving the
heroine's life. This, combined with the broken English and the dog,
rendered him irresistible.
He seemed a peaceful, amiable sort of creature, and I decided to try
him. I could not of course be a German professor, but I could, and
did, wear my hair long in spite of much public advice to the
contrary, voiced chiefly by small boys. I endeavoured to obtain
possession of a lame dog, but failed. A one-eyed dealer in Seven
Dials, to whom, as a last resource, I applied, offered to lame one
for me for an extra five shillings, but this suggestion I declined.
I came across an uncanny-looking mongrel late one night. He was not
lame, but he seemed pretty sick; and, feeling I was not robbing
anybody of anything very valuable, I lured him home and nursed him.
I fancy I must have over-nursed him. He got so healthy in the end,
there was no doing anything with him. He was an ill-conditioned
cur, and he was too old to be taught. He became the curse of the
neighbourhood. His idea of sport was killing chickens and sneaking
rabbits from outside poulterers' shops. For recreation he killed
cats and frightened small children by yelping round their legs.
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