michael, brother of jerry-第50部分

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to　Steward；　back　through　all　the　ages　to　the　lost　pack；　and　with　the　shadowy　lost　pack　itself　across　the　snowy　wastes　and　through　the　forest　aisles　in　the　hunt　of　the　meat。

The　spectral　forms　of　the　lost　pack　were　all　about　him　as　he　sang　and　ran　in　open…eyed　dream；　the　violinist　paused　in　surprise；　the　men　poked　the　monkey　leader　of　the　monkey　orchestra　and　whirled　him　about　wildly　raging　on　his　revolving　stool；　and　Johnny　laughed。　　But　Harris　Collins　took　note。　　He　had　heard　Michael　accurately　follow　the　air。　　He　had　heard　him　singnot　merely　howl；　but　SING。

Silence　fell。　　The　monkey　leader　ceased　revolving　and　chattering。　The　men　who　had　poked　him　held　poles　and　wires　suspended　in　their　hands。　　The　rest　of　the　monkey　orchestra　merely　shivered　in　apprehension　of　what　next　atrocity　should　be　perpetrated。　　The　violinist　stared。　　Johnny　still　heaved　from　his　laughter。　　But　Harris　Collins　pondered；　scratched　his　head；　and　continued　to　ponder。

〃You　can't　tell　me　。　。　。　〃　he　began　vaguely。　　〃I　know　it。　　I　heard　it。　　That　dog　carried　the　tune。　　Didn't　he　now？　　I　leave　it　to　all　of　you。　　Didn't　he？　　The　damned　dog　sang。　　I'll　stake　my　life　on　it。Hold　on；　you　fellows；　rest　the　monkeys　off。　　This　is　worth　following　up。Mr。　Violinist；　play　that　over　again；　now；　'Home；　Sweet　Home；'let　her　go。　　Press　her　strong；　and　loud；　and　slow。　Now　watch；　all　of　you；　and　listen；　and　tell　me　if　I'm　crazy；　or　if　that　dog　ain't　carrying　the　tune。There！　　What　d'ye　call　it？　Ain't　it？〃

There　was　no　discussion。　　Michael's　jaw　dropped　and　his　forefeet　began　their　restless　lifting　after　several　measures　had　been　played。　　And　Harris　Collins　stepped　close　to　him　and　sang　with　him　and　in　accord。

〃Harry　Del　Mar　was　right　when　he　said　that　dog　was　the　limit　and　sold　his　troupe。　　He　knew。　　The　dog's　a　dog　Caruso。　　No　howling　chorus　of　mutts　such　as　Kingman　used　to　carry　around　with　him；　but　a　real　singer；　a　soloist。　　No　wonder　he　wouldn't　learn　tricks。　　He　had　his　specially　all　the　time。　　And　just　to　think　of　it！　　I　as　good　as　gave　him　away　to　that　dog…killing　Wilton　Davis。　　Only　he　came　back。Johnny；　take　extra　care　of　him　after　this。　　Bring　him　up　to　the　house　this　afternoon；　and　I'll　give　him　a　real　try…out。　My　daughter　plays　the　violin。　　We'll　see　what　music　he'll　sing　with　her。　　There's　a　mint　of　money　in　him；　take　it　from　me。〃


Thus　was　Michael　discovered。　　The　afternoon's　try…out　was　partially　successful。　　After　vainly　attempting　strange　music　on　him；　Collins　found　that　he　could　sing；　and　would　sing；　〃God　Save　the　King〃　and　〃Sweet　Bye　and　Bye。〃　　Many　hours　of　many　days　were　spent　in　the　quest。　　Vainly　he　tried　to　teach　Michael　new　airs。　Michael　put　no　heart　of　love　in　the　effort　and　sullenly　abstained。　But　whenever　one　of　the　songs　he　had　learned　from　Steward　was　played；　he　responded。　　He　could　not　help　responding。　　The　magic　was　stronger　than　he。　　In　the　end；　Collins　discovered　five　of　the　six　songs　he　knew：　　〃God　Save　the　King；〃　〃Sweet　Bye　and　Bye；〃　〃Lead；　Kindly　Light；〃　〃Home；　Sweet　Home；〃　and　〃Roll　Me　Down　to　Rio。〃　　Michael　never　sang　〃Shenandoah；〃　because　Collins　and　Collins's　daughter　did　not　know　the　old　sea…chanty　and　therefore　were　unable　to　suggest　it　to　him。

〃Five　songs　are　enough；　if　he　won't　never　learn　another　note；〃　Collins　concluded。　　〃They'll　make　him　a　bill…topper　anywhere。　There's　a　mint　in　him。　　Hang　me　if　I　wouldn't　take　him　out　on　the　road　myself　if　only　I　was　young　and　footloose。〃



CHAPTER　XXXII



And　so　Michael　was　ultimately　sold　to　one　Jacob　Henderson　for　two　thousand　dollars。　　〃And　I'm　giving　him　away　to　you　at　that；〃　said　Collins。　　〃If　you　don't　refuse　five　thousand　for　him　before　six　months；　I　don't　know　anything　about　the　show　game。　　He'll　skin　that　last　arithmetic　dog　of　yours　to　a　finish　and　you　won't　have　to　show　yourself　and　work　every　minute　of　the　turn。　　And　if　you　don't　insure　him　for　fifty　thousand　as　soon　as　he's　made　good　you'll　be　a　fool。　　Why；　I　wouldn't　ask　anything　better；　if　I　was　young　and　footloose；　than　to　take　him　out　on　the　road　myself。〃

Henderson　proved　totally　different　from　any　master　Michael　had　had。　　The　man　was　a　neutral　sort　of　creature。　　He　was　neither　good　nor　evil。　　He　neither　drank；　smoked；　nor　swore；　nor　did　he　go　to　church　or　belong　to　the　Y。M。C。A。　　He　was　a　vegetarian　without　being　a　bigoted　one；　liked　moving　pictures　when　they　were　concerned　with　travel；　and　spent　most　of　his　spare　time　in　reading　Swedenborg。　　He　had　no　temper　whatever。　　Nobody　had　ever　witnessed　anger　in　him；　and　all　said　he　had　the　patience　of　Job。　　He　was　even　timid　of　policemen；　freight　agents；　and　conductors；　though　he　was　not　afraid　of　them。　　He　was　not　afraid　of　anything；　any　more　than　was　he　enamoured　of　anything　save　Swedenborg。　　He　was　as　colourless　of　character　as　the　neutral…coloured　clothes　he　wore；　as　the　neutral…coloured　hair　that　sprawled　upon　his　crown；　as　the　neutral…coloured　eyes　with　which　he　observed　the　world。　　Nor　was　he　a　fool　any　more　than　was　he　a　wise　man　or　a　scholar。　　He　gave　little　to　life；　asked　little　of　life；　and；　in　the　show　business；　was　a　recluse　in　the　very　heart　of　life。

Michael　neither　liked　nor　disliked　him；　but；　rather；　merely　accepted　him。　　They　travelled　the　United　States　over　together；　and　they　never　had　a　quarrel。　　Not　once　did　Henderson　raise　his　voice　sharply　to　Michael；　and　not　once　did　Michael　snarl　a　warning　at　him。　　They　simply　endured　together；　existed　together；　because　the　currents　of　life　had　drifted　them　together。　　Of　course；　there　was　no　heart…bond　between　them。　　Henderson　was　master。　　Michael　was　Henderson's　chattel。　　Michael　was　as　dead　to　him　as　he　was　himself　dead　to　all　things。

Yet　Jacob　Henderson　was　fair　and　square；　business…like　and　methodical。　　Once　each　day；　when　not　travelling　on　the　interminable　trains；　he　gave　Michael　a　thorough　bath　and　thoroughly　dried　him　afterward。　　He　was　never　harsh　nor　hasty　in　the　bathing。　　Michael　never　was　aware　whether　he　liked　or　disliked　the　bathing　function。　　It　was　all　one；　part　of　his　own　fate　in　the　world　as　it　was　part　of　Henderson's　fate　to　bathe　him　every　so　often。

Michael's　own　work　was　tolerably　easy；　though　monotonous。　　Leaving　out　the　eternal　travelling；　the　never…ending　jumps　from　town　to　town　and　from　city　to　city；　he　appeared　on　the　stage　once　each　night　for　seven　nights　in　the　week　and　for　two　afternoon　performances　in　the　week。　　The　curtain　went　up；　leaving　him　alone　on　the　stage　in　the　full　set　that　befitted　a　bill…topper。　Henderson　stood　in　the　wings；　unseen　by　the　audience；　and　looked　on。　　The　orchestra　played　four　of　the　pieces　Michael　had　been　taught　by　Steward；　and　Michael　sang　them；　for　his　modulated　howling　was　truly　singing。　　He　never　responded　to　more　than　one　encore；　which　was　always　〃Home；　Sweet　Home。〃　　After　that；　while　the　audience　clapped　and　stamped　its　approval　and　delight　of　the　dog　Caruso；　Jacob　Henderson　would　appear　on　the　stage；　bowing　and　smiling　in　stereotyped　gladness　and　gratefulness；　rest　his　right　hand　on　Michael's　shoulders　with　a　play…acted　assumption　of　comradeliness；　whereupon　both　Henderson　and　Michael　would　bow　ere　the　final　curtain　went　down。

And　yet　Michael　was　a　prisoner；　a　life…prisoner。　　Fed　well；　bathed　well；　exercised　well；　he　never　knew　a　moment　of　freedom。　　When　travelling；　days　and　nights　he　spent　in　the　cage；　which；　however；　was　generous　enough　to　allow　him　to　stand　at　full　height　and　to　turn　around　without　too　uncomfortable　squirming。　　Sometimes；　in　hotels　in　country　towns；　out　of　the　crate　he　shared　Henderson's　room　with　him。　　Otherwise；　unless　other　animals　were　hewing　on　the　same　circuit　time；　he　had；　outside　his　cage；　the　freedom　of　the　animal　room　attached　to　the　particular　theatre　where　he　performed　for　from　three　days　to　a　week。

But　there　was　never　a　chance；　never　a　moment；　when　he　might　run　free　of　a　cage　about　him；　of　the　walls　of　a　room　restricting　him；　of　a　chain　shackled　to　the　collar　about　his　throat。　　In　good　weather；　in　the　afternoons；　Henderson　often　took　him　for　a　walk。　But　always　it　was　at　the　end　of　a　chain。　　And　almost　always　the　way　led　to　some　park；　where　Henderson　fastened　the　other　end　of　the　chain　to　the　bench　on　which　he　sat　and　browsed　Swedenborg。　Not　one　act　of　free　agency　was　left　to　Michael。　　Other　dogs　ran　free；　playing　with　one　another；　or　behaving　bellicosely。　　If　they　approached　him　for　purposes　of　investigation　or　acquaintance；　Henderson　invariably　ceased　from　his　reading　long　enough　to　drive　them　away。

A　life　prisoner　to　a　lifeless　gaoler；　life　was　all　grey　to　Michael。　　His　moroseness　changed　to　a　deep…seated　melancholy。　　He　ceased　to　be　interested　in　life　and　in　the　freedom　of　life。　　Not　that　he　regarded　the　play　of　life　about　him　with　a　jaundiced　eye；　but；　rather；　that　his　eyes　became　unseeing。　　Debarred　from　life；　he　ignored　life。　　He　permitted　himself　to　become　a　sheer　puppet　slave；　eating；　taking　his　baths；　travelling　in　his　cage；　performing　regularly；　and　sleeping　much。

He　had　pridethe　pride　of　the　thoroughbred；　the　pride　of　the　North　American　Indian　enslaved　on　the　plantations　of　the　West　Indies　who　died　uncomplaining　and　unbroken。　　So　Michael。　　He　submitted　to　the　cage　and　the　iron　of　the　chain　because　they　were　too　strong　for　his　muscles　and　teeth。　　He　did　his　slave…task　of　performance