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Nature and opened up the world for us； the reformers （they had to do
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something more than talk in those days） who won for us our liberties； the
men who gave their lives to science and art； when science and art brought；
not as now； fame and fortune； but shame and penurythey sprang from the
loins of the rugged men who had learned； on many a grim battlefield； to
laugh at pain and death； who had had it hammered into them； with many a
hard blow； that the whole duty of a man in this world is to be true to his
trust； and fear not。
Do you remember the story of the old Viking who had been converted
to Christianity； and who； just as they were about； with much joy； to baptize
him； paused and asked： 〃But whatif this； as you tell me； is the only
way to the true Valhallawhat has become of my comrades； my friends
who are dead； who died in the old faithwhere are they？〃
The priests； confused； replied there could be no doubt those
unfortunate folk had gone to a place they would rather not mention。
〃Then；〃 said the old warrior； stepping back； 〃I will not be baptized。 I
will go along with my own people。〃
He had lived with them； fought beside them； they were his people。
He would stand by them to the endof eternity。 Most assuredly； a very
shocking old Viking！ But I think it might be worth while giving up our
civilization and our culture to get back to the days when they made men
like that。
The only reminder of such times that we have left us now； is the bull…
dog； and he is fast dying outthe pity of it！ What a splendid old dog he
is！ so grim； so silent； so stanch； so terrible； when he has got his idea； of his
duty clear before him； so absurdly meek； when it is only himself that is
concerned。
He is the gentlest； too； and the most lovable of all dogs。 He does not
look it。 The sweetness of his disposition would not strike the casual
observer at first glance。 He resembles the gentleman spoken of in the
oft…quoted stanza：
'E's all right when yer knows 'im。 But yer've got to know
'im fust。 The first time I ever met a bull…dogto speak to； that is
was many years ago。 We were lodging down in the country； an orphan
friend of mine named George； and myself； and one night； coming home
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late from some dissolving views we found the family had gone to bed。
They had left a light in our room； however； and we went in and sat down；
and began to take off our boots。
And then； for the first time； we noticed on the hearthrug a bull…dog。 A
dog with a more thoughtfully ferocious expressiona dog with； apparently；
a heart more dead to all ennobling and civilizing sentimentsI have never
seen。 As George said； he looked more like some heathen idol than a
happy English dog。
He appeared to have been waiting for us； and he rose up and greeted
us with a ghastly grin； and got between us and the door。
We smiled at hima sickly； propitiatory smile。 We said； 〃Good dog
poor fellow！〃 and we asked him； in tones implying that the question could
admit of no negative； if he was not a 〃nice old chap。〃 We did not really
think so。 We had our own private opinion concerning him； and it was
unfavorable。 But we did not express it。 We would not have hurt his
feelings for the world。 He was a visitor； our guest； so to speakand； as
well…brought…up young men； we felt that the right thing to do was for us to
prevent his gaining any hint that we were not glad to see him； and to make
him feel as little as possible the awkwardness of his position。
I think we succeeded。 He was singularly unembarrassed； and far
more at his ease than even we were。 He took but little notice of our
flattering remarks； but was much drawn toward George's legs。 George
used to be； I remember； rather proud of his legs。 I could never see
enough in them myself to excuse George's vanity； indeed； they always
struck me as lumpy。 It is only fair to acknowledge； however； that they
quite fascinated that bull…dog。 He walked over and criticized them with
the air of a long…baffled connoisseur who had at last found his ideal。 At
the termination of his inspection he distinctly smiled。
George； who at that time was modest and bashful； blushed and drew
them up on to the chair。 On the dog's displaying a desire to follow them；
George moved up on to the table； and squatted there in the middle； nursing
his knees。 George's legs being lost to him； the dog appeared inclined to
console himself with mine。 I went and sat beside George on the table。
Sitting with your feet drawn up in front of you； on a small and rickety
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one…legged table； is a most trying exercise； especially if you are not used
to it。 George and I both felt our position keenly。 We did not like to call
out for help； and bring the family down。 We were proud young men； and
we feared lest； to the unsympathetic eye of the comparative stranger； the
spectacle we should present might not prove imposing。
We sat on in silence for about half an hour； the dog keeping a
reproachful eye upon us from the nearest chair； and displaying elephantine
delight whenever we made any movement suggestive of climbing down。
At the end of the half hour we discussed the advisability of 〃chancing
it；〃 but decided not to。 〃We should never；〃 George said； 〃confound
foolhardiness with courage。〃
〃Courage；〃 he continuedGeorge had quite a gift for maxims
〃courage is the wisdom of manhood； foolhardiness； the folly of youth。〃
He said that to get down from the table while that dog remained in the
room； would clearly prove us to be possessed of the latter quality； so we
restrained ourselves； and sat on。
We sat on for over an hour； by which time； having both grown careless
of life and indifferent to the voice of Wisdom； we did 〃chance it；〃 and
throwing the table…cloth over our would…be murderer； charged for the door
and g