74: THE BARKING DOG. 



the machinery, till there, looking out through the face of 

 that old family clock, distinct and palpable as the sun at 

 noonday, or the moon in a cloudless night, I saw the ogre 

 head of that 'dog ; his great glassy, fishy eyes, his half 

 drooping, half erect ears, his slavering jaws, and as he gazed 

 in a stupid meaningless stare upon me, uttered his everlast- 

 ing bow, wow ! Tell me that the room was dark ; that 

 not a ray of light penetrated the closed doors or the cur- 

 tained windows. What of that ? That dog's head, I repeat, 

 was there ; I saw it, if I ever saw the sun, the moon or the 

 bright stars. I saw it staring at me through all the gloom, 

 all the thick darkness, and I heard its terrible bow, wow ! 

 ' Get out !' I shouted in horror. 



" ' What's the matter T cried my wife, springing up hi an 

 ecstasy of terror. 



" ' Drive out that dog/ I replied. 



" ' What dog ?' she inquired. 



" ' There,' I replied, ' that dog there, in the clock with his 

 great staring, glassy eyes ; drive him out !' 



" She lighted the gas, and as it flashed up, there stood 

 the old clock, the pendulum swung back and forth, the tick- 

 ing went on, and its white old-fashioned face, looked out in 

 calm serenity; but the dog was gone. It was all natural as 

 life. The lighting of the gas had frightened the cur back 

 to his yard, and as the forty-fourth tick ceased, his bow, 

 wow ! was heard again, and it lasted while the pendulum 

 swung back and forth just fifteen times. I took a cooling 

 draft, and counted in feverish agony forty-four, and fifteen, 



