It was noticed that the bull's
horns were crimson with blood, so there could be no doubt who was the
delinquent.
"'The more you know of a bull, the less faith you can put in one,' said
our old cowherd to me one day when I recounted to him in Yorkshire my
escape; 'and, saving your ladyship's presence,' he added, 'bulls are as
given to tantrums as young females.'
[Sidenote: George's Tricks]
"When George was young we tried to teach him some tricks," continued
Lady Constance, "but, like a village boy, he 'was hard to learn;' and
the only accomplishment he ever acquired was, during meals, to stand up
and plant his front paws upon our shoulders, look over into our plates,
and receive as a reward some tit-bit. Sometimes he would do this without
any warning, and he seemed to derive a malicious pleasure in performing
these antics upon the shoulders of some nervous lady, or upon some guest
who did not share with us our canine love."
* * * * *
It had now come to my turn to contribute a story, and in answer to the
children's appeal I told them that I would tell them all that I could
remember of my old favourite mastiff, "Rory Bean," so-called after the
Laird of Dumbiedike's pony in the "Heart of Midlothian."
"Rory was a very large fawn mastiff, with the orthodox black mask. I
remember my little girl, when she was younger, having once been told
that she must not go downstairs to her godmamma with a dirty face,
resolved that if this was the case Rory must have a clean face too.
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