Well--(excuse us while we go into a corner and mutter a silent remark)--it
came in on the train Monday, and was taken to the barn. It is the
confoundedest looking dog that a white man ever set eyes on. It is about
the color of putty, and about seven feet long, though it is only
six months old. The tail is longer than a whip lash, and when you speak
sassy to that dog, the tail will begin to curl around under him, amongst
his legs, double around over his neck and back over where the tail
originally was hitched to the dog, and then there is tail enough left for
four ordinary dogs.
If that tail was cut up into ordinary tails, such as common dogs wear,
there would be enough for all the dogs in the Seventh Ward, with enough
left for a white wire clothes line. When he lays down his tail curls up
like a coil of telephone wire, and if you take hold of it and wring you
can hear the dog at the central office. If that dog is as long in
proportion, when he gets his growth, and his tail grows as much as his
body, the dog will reach from here to the Soldier's home.
[Illustration: 'THEREBY HANGS A TAIL'.]
His head is about as big as a graham gem, and runs down to a point no
bigger than a cambric needle, while his ears are about as big as a thumb
to a glove, and they hang down as though the dog didn't want to hear
anything.
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