Sable and White - The Autobiography of a Show Collie (A Vintage Dog Books Breed Classic)

Gordon Stables

Description

This moving but charming novel of a collie's turbulent life, was first published in 1893. It is now both expensive and very hard to find in its first edition. VINTAGE DOG BOOKS have republished it, using the original text and beautiful engravings and illustrations by Harrison Weir and Miss Winifred Austen. "Luath" is a sable and white collie of excellent parentage. His story is told in the first person. It takes the reader through his doggie life with its idyllic puppy days, then on through many terrible experiences, interspersed with some happier adventures, to his eventual retirement. A series of owners, some kind, some cruel, use him for both gain and pleasure. From the show benches of that era, to the sad world of lost dogs, life with the gypsies and numerous other escapades, our hero, oft accompanied by his Pug chum, Jim, tells a thrilling tale of a dogs life in Victorian England. This lengthy work consists of two hundred and seventy nine pages illustrated with vintage engravings. It will prove a fascinating read for all dog lovers, and especially for the collie enthusiast. "And the dog is still the faithful, Still the loving friend of man Ever ready at his bidding, Doing for him all he can." Many of the earliest dog books, particularly those dating back to the 1900s and before, are now extremely scarce and increasingly expensive. VINTAGE DOG BOOKS are republishing these classic works in affordable, high quality, modern editions, using the original text and artwork.

Informations

• Publié par: Read Books Ltd.
• Date de parution: 01 décembre 2020
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781528769525
• Langue: English

Extrait

SABLE AND WHITE
SABLE WHITE SERIES .
Elegantly bound in Cloth. Illustrated .
Price 3/6 each .
OUR FOUR-FOOTED AND FEATHERED FRIENDS . By A LEYN M ULLOY , 23 Illustrations by J. A. Shepherd.
SHIREEN AND HER FRIENDS . By G ORDON -S TABLES , M.D., C.M., R.N. Illustrated by Harrison Weir.
SABLE AND WHITE . The Autobiography of a Show Dog. By G ORDON -S TABLES , M.D., C.M., R.N. Illustrated by Harrison Weir. 2nd Edition.
CLEAR AS THE NOON DAY . By E THEL P ENROSE . 36 Illustrations by Edith . Somerville.
LORD LYNTON S WARD . By H ELENA B ROOKS . 36 Illustrations by Paul Hardy. 2nd Edition.
WOOING OF OSYTH . A Story of the Eastern Counties in Saxon Times. By K ATE T. S IZER . 48 Illustrations by M. M. Blake.
THAT BOTHER OF A BOY . By G RACE S TEBBING . 35 Illustrations by Paul Hardy. 3rd Edition.
SAYINGS AND DOINGS IN FAIRYLAND ; or, Old Friends with New Faces. By D. S. S INCLAIR . Upwards of 40 Illustrations by Paul Hardy. 2nd Edition.

London: Jarrold and Sons , 10 and 11, Warwick Lane , E.C .
S ABLE AND WHITE
THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A SHOW DOG
BY
GORDON-STABLES, M.D., C.M., R.N.
Author of Shireen and Her Friends, etc .

ILLUSTRATED BY HARRISON WEIR
TITLE PAGE BY MISS WINIFRED AUSTEN
LONDON
JARROLD SONS, 10 11, WARWICK LANE, E.C.
[ All Rights Reserved ]
Dedication.

TO
MRS. FRANK Y. TOMS,
A SHIPMATE S WIFE, HERSELF A SAILOR,
AND ONE WHOSE KINDLY
SYMPATHETIC HEART CAN FEEL FOR THE WOES
OF ALL CREATURES THAT
SUFFER LIFE,
THIS BOOK IS DEDICATED,
WITH EVERY FRIENDLY WISH,
BY
THE AUTHOR.
CONTENTS.

BOOK I.-LIFE ON THE SHOW BENCH. I. M Y F IRST G RIEF II. F IRST M EETING WITH J IM III. T HE M AN WITH THE S TRAW IN H IS M OUTH IV. F IRST AND S PECIAL V. P OOR C RACK : THE C OSTER S T ERRIER VI. T HE H OME -C OMING VII. C OLD IN THE B EAUTIFUL S UNSHINE VIII. M ISS E TH. A IN T A B IT B ETTER IX. T HE T HEFT OF THE L ITTLE S HOE X. N EVER, O H, N EVER A GAIN ! XI. A B ATTLE OF G IANTS XII. A N OBLE D OG XIII. T OM WAS P OSITIVELY C RYING XIV. B Y THE S AD S EA W AVE XV. H E D IED WITH H IS F ACE TO THE S EA BOOK II.-LIFE ON THE ROAD. I. L OST II. I F I H ADN T W AGGED M Y T AIL III. S TILL AT D ANDY J OE S IV. D EAR C HUMMIE, IT WAS V ERY S AD V. A LL T RUE VI. K OORAN T ELLS OF H IS B ONNIE H IGHLAND H OME VII. A WAY, AND A WAY, AND A WAY VIII. W HERE WAS THE R IVER ? IX. A L OVER AND H IS L ASS X. A T HRILLING A DVENTURE XI. A D AY OF S TRANGE S URPRISES XII. G IPSY -L IFE IN THE G REEN L ANES XIII. H APPY D AYS XIV. M ORE S TRANGE S URPRISES XV. J IM AND I WENT T ROTTING OFF T OGETHER XVI. P OOR J IM S EEMED D OOMED TO D EATH XVII. H OW W OULD IT ALL E ND? XVIII. I T WAS INDEED A C HAMBER OF H ORRORS ! XIX. D ON T D IE AND L EAVE M E , J IM XX. P EACE AT L AST
BOOK I.

LIFE ON THE SHOW BENCH.
SABLE WHITE:
THE
AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A SHOW DOG .

CHAPTER I.
MY FIRST GRIEF.
Scene.-An old-fashioned and beautiful cottage on the banks of the Thames. A green and daisied lawn stretching down to the river. The house is many gabled and thatched, with a broad verandah on which rich red roses grow in wild luxuriance, that accord sweetly with the back-ground of grey, and with the cloudland of elm-green that rolls far behind.
T is the very sweetest time of all the glad year. Bird-song in the bushes, and the scent of syringa blossoms floating through the air.
A drowsy summer s afternoon, a drowsy hum of insect life, a drowsy look about even the river itself and on the hazy landscape that lies beyond. A boating party have hushed their song, have drawn in their oars as if to drink in a portion of the quiet beauty that everywhere meets the eye.
Ah, but there is no drowsiness about the heart of the young girl that is one of the centre figures on the lawn.

A little maid with laughing eye,
And rosy lips apart,
The sunbeams glancing on her hair,
And sunshine in her heart.
She had been gathering a garland of flowers to string round the neck of the old pet collie Luath, till a mischievous puppy and a half-daft kitten appeared on the scene, and now she is madder and merrier than either of them.
The little maiden s father had been quietly smoking in his rocking chair and pretending to read the paper-her mother with her sewing walking near, until something attracted his attention. It was the gravity of a trio of dogs, that sat or lay not far off on this old-fashioned lawn.
He looks up now and his wife s eyes follow his.
Wouldn t you really think, dear? she says, they were talking of old times?
Yes, but note, it is the Newfoundland who is listening, and also, with half-closed eyes, Mr. Consequential, the pug, and Luath, honest old Luath, is telling the story of his life.

You must remember, Luath was saying, I wasn t always a show dog. Oh! no. And I can recollect the time when me-ahem I should say I -and my five little brothers and sisters, used to gambol together in a tree-shaded paddock. That was when we were quite young. And what a lovely paddock that was, how green the grass and how pretty the hedges, all trailed over with wild roses and honeysuckle, while right at the bottom of it ran a stream of pure water, in which father and mother and my uncles and aunts used to gambol and bathe! I have said the grass was green, nevertheless we youngsters did not keep it over tidy. What a litter it was to be sure with our playthings! Mother brought us most of these. And I ll never forget the gentle face of our loving ma as she used to lie on the sward and watch us at play. She herself was rather stiff, you know, to gambol much with us puppies, though I don t suppose we always remembered that when we teased her, and tumbled over her, and pulled her ears and her great rough tail.
Beautiful puppies we were all of us, and I have often heard master say, as he patted my mother s bonnie sable head, Out and out, he would say, you are the best Collie on the show benches, and the Collie with the longest pedigree. And, he added, I wouldn t think much of a judge who said differently.
Then mother would lick his hand and look so pleased.
I knew nothing about benches in those happy days. But one day I asked mother.
Mother, I said, what are show-benches?
Enjoy yourself while you can, my dear, was her reply, you ll find out all too soon what show-benches are. Now run away and romp.
As I have hinted we had plenty of toys in that paddock.
Pieces of half-gnawed wood, huge bones, blacking bottles, empty salmon tins, an old horse rug, a long rope, india-rubber balls to help us in cutting our teeth, and an old boot. I think an old boot is the finest thing in the world. First you pick up the boot and give it a shake or two as if you mean to kill it. Then you look mischievously round to your brothers and sisters, and say, This is my boot. Then you pick it up again, and off you go feathering round and round the paddock as fast as a flying train with the whole lot of your brothers and sisters after you in a stream. It is like being chased by walruses in the forests of Russia. Master says I mean wolves, well, there s no great difference I dare say. But you are wild with joy at being able to keep ahead of them. But by and by they lay a trap for you, and lo! when you don t think of it, one of them dashes out of a bush-an am bush, and rolls you over like a fox.
Then the fun grows fast and furious. Over and over we tumble in a heap, kicking and sprawling, biting and snarling-all pretence, you know-till we are too tired to play any longer. Then home to mother is the general cry. Of course she isn t far off. She has been lying watching us all the time, and thinking of her young days. We go trotting along in a string now, with our pink tongues hanging out over the side, and our breath coming and going so fast you couldn t count it, and when we throw ourselves down round mother s head, she doesn t know which of us to kiss or lick first. Heigho! these happy days are past and gone.
One day we heard mother utter a short, sharp bark, and we all did the same, feeling ourselves in duty bound to support her, though the effort of barking almost made us fall. But it was only the master coming along the paddock accompanied by some strange gentleman.
Hullo! I said to my sisters and brothers, here comes a stranger, let us rend him limb from limb. Follow me to death or victory.
Whereupon we all rushed to confront the newcomer, but somehow at the very last moment, our hearts failed us, and our valour fled.
Plucky little fellows, aren t they? I heard master say.

A STRANGER COMING.
When master put down his hand among us we all tried to lick it at the same time. But he lifted me up in his arms, and marched off with me. I glanced wistfully back at my brothers and sisters, who all sat huddled in a heap, and looking very much astonished. How sad I felt! Poor mother came on after us with her head in the air, but was driven back, and I ll never forget her pitiful, anxious face as she stood there with her ears drawn back into her frill and her eyes filled with sorrow and wonder combined. For, your majesty, I was her favourite child.
I never saw mother more, nor any of my brothers and sisters, nor-nor the old boot .
Good-bye, Luath, said master, patting my sable brow, be a good doggie to your new master.
A kindly hearted human was my old master; mother told me he had never spoken a cross word to her, and even when sick and ailing as he often was, he had always a smile and a kindly welcome for his doggies.
You ll be sure to be kind to young Luath, won t you? my old master called after the new one.
La