CHAPTER XIII
A DOG CEMETERY IN PARIS
HE rest of the journey to Paris was quite uneventful. They arrived there one evening just as the sun was setting behind the city, throwing the Eiffel Tower and the big square dome of Notre Dame in bold relief against the deep red sky.
Just on the outskirts of the city they came to an island on which was a good-sized cemetery.
“What a nice place for a cemetery!” exclaimed Stubby.
“There seem to be a good many people buried there from all the monuments I can count,” said Billy.
“You may count the monuments and walk or drive down the broad paved roads and walks but you will never pass one grave where a human being is buried,” said Duke.
“You are joking!” said Button. “What do you mean? That there is no one buried there now and that all the bodies have been removed? Bet I hear men chiseling monuments at this minute and soon can see them at work in their shops.”
“True again. But for all that there is not a human being buried there, for it is a dog cemetery where only pet dogs are buried.”
“Well, wouldn’t that beat the Dutch!” exclaimed Billy. “A regular cemetery with flowers on the graves and flower-bordered walks and fenced-in lots and monuments just like people have! It certainly does take the French to think of odd things!”
“Why shouldn’t pet dogs have a nice resting place?” inquired Duke. “They are man’s companions and guard and watch over him as if they were human. Yes, and they are more faithful than the dearest human friends, for they stick when adversity overtakes one, when often a human friend one has counted on proves false. But never a dog! There is one monument there that has this inscription on it in French, but I will translate it for you into English. It reads: ‘The more I see of men, the more I love dogs.’ Pretty hard on his friends, wasn’t he?”
“I bet some one he loved played him false, don’t you?”
“It would seem like it from that inscription,” answered Billy.
“But hush! I hear a bell tolling,” said Button.
“Yes, they toll the bell when a funeral enters the gate just as they do in all cemeteries,” explained Duke.
“Look, fellows!” said Stubby. “There comes a little white hearse just like the ones they use to take babies to the cemetery, and see the autos that are following! Why, it is a regular funeral, with a wreath of flowers on the casket and everything else complete!”
“Certainly! Everything is done just as it is in a cemetery for people and not one thing is left out,” replied Duke. “If you should walk through, you would see on some of the graves the playthings the dogs liked when alive.”
“Really?” said Stubby in amazement.
“Yes, really!” replied Duke. “I had hoped to be buried there myself some day, but now I expect my grave will be a shell hole on the field of battle.”
“Oh, no, it won’t now since you are going to America with us.”
“Over there your grave will probably be made under a rose bush or in some nice quiet orchard or back yard of the family with whom you live,” said Billy.
While they had been talking, the boat drifted away past the cemetery and they were getting near Paris. They had just fixed themselves comfortably on deck to enjoy the approach to the city and watch the people on the banks and wharfs as the boat floated by when the Captain appeared and said,
“Sorry to disturb you, fellows, but it is necessary that we shut you below while we are in the city. If we don’t, some one may see you who has read the papers offering a reward for you and they would come aboard and take you off.”
“Oh, bother that old reward!” from Billy. “I don’t want to be shut in out of the air in that stuffy cabin. I want to be out here where I can stretch my legs and breathe good fresh air.”
Just the same, Billy with the others was shut in a stuffy little cabin scarcely large enough to hold them. There the four of them fretted and grumbled and pouted, but to no purpose.
They had been there about two hours when they felt the boat scrape along the side of a dock, and they found their porthole looked out on the wharf side of the boat. Button soon took advantage of his powers of climbing and sat in the porthole, from which place he could look out and tell the others what he saw.
The boat had come to dock right opposite the Eiffel Tower and on that side of the river. By sticking his head out of the hole he could also see the big Hippodrome with its grassy lawn and flower beds and benches for tired pedestrians to rest on.
“Gee!” exclaimed Billy, “but I would like to get out of this and kick my legs on that lawn and eat some of the grass, for I am awfully tired of the food on this boat. It is all right for people, cats and dogs, but rather dry for goats.”
The next morning the Captain appeared at their door and said, “Now, Chums, here is a good breakfast for you, and a drink of water. Awfully sorry to shut you in, but I have to under the circumstances. Ta-ta until night! We are going up into the city to do some shopping, but One-Eyed Dick is going to stay aboard to look after things. Again ta-ta!” and he slammed the door and was gone.
“Drat him!” exclaimed Billy. “I want to go walking in the park!”
The four ate their breakfast in silence, then lay down to sulk the day away, when all of a sudden Button jumped up and climbed into the porthole again.
“Heigho, fellows! The way this boat lies now I can jump from this porthole onto the dock. And if I don’t leap as far as I mean to do, I will only fall back on deck and not go into the river. I am going to try it anyway. So here goes!”
With a long, flying leap he made it, landing right in front of a dog that chanced to be wandering along the dock just then. The dog made a bound for Button. But Button, contrary to the ways of most cats, stood his ground instead of running and before the dog knew what had happened to him, Button had slapped his face and scratched his nose, leaving a long, red mark down its length, and had disappeared up the path leading to the park.
“I heard Button spit as if he were mad, and then a dog barked,” said Stubby. “I bet he met a dog.”
“I know what we can do,” said Billy. “I can stand under the porthole and then, Duke, you and Stubby can get on my back and jump through the porthole. I am quite sure I am high enough so you can make the jump.”
“But what good will it do even if we can reach the hole? We don’t want to go ashore and leave you here alone.”
“That is just like you, Stubby, to spoil your whole day to stay with a friend that can’t get out. You are too generous. I shan’t let you sacrifice yourself like that for me. You and Duke go, and then you can come back and tell me what you saw. If you stay, I have to stay just the same, and lose the fun of hearing what you fellows do ashore. So jump up on my back and let’s see if you can make the hole.”
Stubby demurred, and so did Duke, but Billy at last prevailed on them to go.
The first thing Billy knew, he was rolling over something soft
that squealed like a stuck pig and that kicked like a calf.
Stubby made the hole and landed on the wharf all right, but Duke was large and the first jump he made he hit his head and fell back into the cabin. He was so fat he made a tight squeeze for the hole but on the second trial he made it. Then he attempted to push and squeeze himself through the hole. To do this he had to go head first, which made him fall on the deck on his nose. But it did not hurt much and no one saw him. He barked back to Billy that he was all right and was going to run up into the city and visit some of his old haunts.
“I’ll steal a bunch of carrots for you from some vegetable stand,” he barked back.
Billy fussed and fussed and kicked around until the cabin looked as if a whole drove of kicking mules had been shut in it. Then all of a sudden he stopped and said to himself,
“What a fool I am, kicking and butting things around here! Why don’t I butt down that old door? It will be easy to do and then I too can go up into the city.”
To think was to do with Billy. And crash! went the door and out through the wreck went Billy. When he arrived at the top of the hatchway he met One-Eyed Dick coming down to see what had caused all the noise. On seeing Billy, he tried to shut the hatchway to keep Billy in by sitting on it. But the next thing he knew the door was lifted up under him and he found himself slipping off. Before he could get to his feet Billy was out and off the boat, and that was the last he saw of Billy for that day.
Duke had just reached the front door of his old home when who should come out of the house but his old master, the one who had taken him to war with him and made him a Red Cross dog.
“Duke, you old sport, where have you been and how did you happen to turn up here just now when I was returning to the front and planning to stop at the dog hospital to get you?”
His master picked him up in his arms and hugged and hugged him until Duke thought his ribs would be crushed in.
“I am so glad you came for now I shall not have to go out of my way to get you. We are on the eve of a big battle and we will both be needed at the front.”
“Here is where I give up going to America,” thought Duke. “But it is all for the best, for since I have seen my old master again and found how he loves me, I think it would have been a mean trick to desert him while he is in danger of his life every moment. But I do wish I could have gone back first and said good-by to Billy, Stubby and Button. They are the three finest friends a dog ever had.”
While Duke was thinking this, his master was carrying him to a big touring car and in a few seconds they were breaking the speed laws of the city.