‘Mr. Brown’ Sees London

Sun (Auckland), Volume II, Issue 544, 22 December 1928, Page 16

‘Mr. Brown’ Sees London

Citizen’s Winning Way \ He pressed against us at the street-crossing, obviously with intention. We looked down. He was a thick-set terrier, the colour of white velvet, a little darkness under the white. He looked up at us, obviously a dog of character. He wanted something. 1 We understood. He meant to take i us for a walk. | A more urbane citizen of London i I have not known, writes Katharine j Tynan, novelist, in the London ; “Daily Mail.” He led us into the j traffic .with all the accustomed mas--31 terliness of the policeman on point ' duty, awaiting our sloxv progress on r an island, his tail going as fast as 3 it was his nature wag it. He had ‘ a deliberate way with him. Safely on the other side his upturned eye made suggestions. . . . 1 Whither? We were going for a walk, 2 j and he fell in with the idea. He was . j a most agreeable companion. i! For the duration of that walk he 1 j was ours—going before us in a high r j mood of exploration, returning to 1 j see if we were all right, pressing I against us with a confiding air, re--3 1 fusing to be detached by the dogs 3 j we met. Was he a lost dog given 3 ! to us by some kind fate? His looks - j belied that. He was fat and well- " j living. The despair of the lost dog 3 j had never laid hold upon him. Be- ’ : sides, he was not such’ a dog as gets 3 | lost; he was London’s citizen, a ‘ j citizen of the world. While we passed and considered j him he sat down and considered us. I think he liked our company but | despised our intelligence. He wore a ’’collar We had not thought of con- ' ! suiting that collar. We were very ! near dog-stealing at the moment. If the collar had been nameless—l don’t know what we might not have done. .■ “You’ve got to go home, miles,” , we said to him. It seemed ridiculous to say it to a dog of his quality. “There are hundreds of crossings. You can come in and have dinner, of course. Afterwards we may take you home in a taxi-cab.” He yawned prodigiously. Plainly he had known people like us before. We felt humbly that we bored him. He waited with ineffable patience, a little too obviously for good manners, while we examined his collar. It bore the inscription; "Mr. Brown, Kensington Court. Don’t bother, please. I know my way home.” He smiled while w r e read it. Obviously he was accustomed to such happenings. He must have taken hundreds of people for walks. He parted from us urbanely. We looked for him in vain. Then we caught sight of him, with liis master obviously. He made as though he nodded w r ith a sidew'ays eye. He had planly no use for us; but it had been an agreeable walk. Again we thought we caught sight of him between a throng of women, close-pressed. He was gazing in at a shop window as though he did it every afternoon, like the women. We thought the window showed dogs’ collars, coats and toilet articles, but that may have been a mistake. This shop might have been a more suitable choice for dogs of the yappy sort. But it may not have been Mr. Brown, after all.