Chapter XVII: The School Children

One day Medor strayed off from the house where he had been born, and had always lived quite comfortably. He was in pursuit of a cat that had stolen a piece of meat given him by the cook, who thought it a little tainted. Medor, not being so delicate, had just put it down by his kennel, when a cat concealed near by, darted at the meat and carried it off, much to my friend’s indignation, as he was not often regaled on such luxuries. He pursued the thief with all the speed of his limbs, and would soon have caught her, if, wicked cat that she was, she had not bethought herself of climbing a tree. Medor, of course could not follow, and he was tantalized with seeing her devour before his eyes, the delicious morsel of which she had robbed him. Justly irritated at such effrontery, he remained at the foot of the tree, barking, growling and uttering a thousand reproaches. This attracted the attention of some children just out of school, and they united with Medor in annoying her. They even attacked her with stones until at last it was a veritable shower. The cat climbed higher, and tried to conceal herself in the thickest foliage. But this did not stop them, the shower of stones continued, accompanied by loud hurrahs, whenever a plaintiff mewing informed her persecutors that she had been hit.

Medor began to weary of this game; the enemy’s touching cries had appeased his wrath and he feared that the children were too cruel. To end their sport he commenced to bark at them, and pull them by the blouse, but it had no effect, save that of causing a few stones to be directed against himself. At last, a hoarse, horrible cry, followed by a rustling among the branches, announced their success, the poor cat was grievously wounded, and had fallen from the tree. One minute after, she was not only wounded, but dead, her head having been crushed by a stone. This was a source of rejoicing to the mischievous children, who ought to have wept over their cruelty. As for Medor, he regarded his enemy with compassion, and the boys with an air of keen reproach. Just as he was about to return to the house, one of them exclaimed:

“Oh! let us give him a bath in the river, it would be so amusing!”

“Yes indeed, what a splendid idea,” cried the others, “catch him, Frederick, there he goes!”

Behold Medor pursued by the cruel rascals, he and they running at full speed. Unfortunately, there were about a dozen of them scattered around, which obliged him always to run straight ahead, for if he deviated in the least, to the right or left, he could be surrounded and his flight retarded instead of hastened. At that time he was very young, not more than four months old; he could run neither very swiftly, nor any great distance without stopping, consequently his pursuers captured him. One seized him around the body, one by the tail, another by the paw, the neck, the ears, the back, they pulled him this way and that, to amuse themselves with his cries. At last, putting a cord around his neck almost tight enough to strangle him, they forced him by dint of kicks to the river.

Two of them were about to remove the cord, and plunge him in, when the biggest boy exclaimed:

“Wait, let’s tie two bladders to his neck, and make him swim; we can push him to the mill, and make him pass under the wheel.”

Vainly did poor Medor struggle; what could he do against a dozen little scamps, the youngest of them, at least, in his seventh year? Andrew the most cruel of the band, tied the two bladders around his neck, and then launched him into the very middle of the stream. My persecuted friend, impelled by the current, and still more vigorously by the poles in his tormentors’ hands, reached the place where the water precipitates itself under the mill wheel. Once under the wheel, he would certainly be ground to pieces.

The workmen returned from their dinner, and one of them hastened to raise the barrier restraining the water. Perceiving Medor, he said:

“Another of your cruel tricks,” you rascals; said he looking at the boys who waited in delightful anticipation of seeing Medor drawn under the wheel. “Friends,” he added, speaking to his fellow workmen, “come here and help punish these bad boys, who have been amusing themselves trying to drown a poor dog.”

His comrades ran, and whilst he saved Medor by pushing a plank towards the poor creature for him to climb upon, the others gave chase to the boys, caught every one, and whipped them well, some with ropes, some with whips, some with sticks. The cries of the chastised children resounded far and near, for the workmen did not strike lightly. At last the job was finished, and Medor’s persecutors retreated, crying, sobbing and rubbing their smarting skins.

The strangling cord around Medor’s neck was cut, and he was put out in the sun to dry upon some hay. He was soon dry, and ready to go home, but when the blacksmith led him back, the people there said they did not want him, they had too many dogs already, and they would throw him in the water with a stone to his neck, if he were left. The blacksmith was a kind man, and pitying Medor, took him to his own house. But at sight of the dog his wife got angry, her husband would ruin them, she said, they had not the wherewith to feed a worthless cur, and, besides, there was a tax upon dogs.

Her opposition was so determined and so violent that her husband for peace sake got rid of Medor, by giving him to the cruel farmer with whom I then lived, and who had been wanting a watch dog.

You now know how Medor and I became acquainted, and also, why we were so fondly attached to each other.