A Dark-Brown Dog – Stephen Crane 1871-1900
Crane has only recently received due credit for his stories. True, his Red Badge of Courage made quite a stir in the nineties, but apart from that book, he was not well-known until some four or five years ago. He was a free-lance writer to the end of his short life. His best work is found in his few volumes of short tales, war stories and stories of contemporary life. He was a war-correspondent in the Balkans and Cuba, though he wrote his most striking war stories before he had ever witnessed a battle. He was not a trick-story writer; he was neither facile nor ingenious; his work at its best is the sound product of an honest artist.
This story is from Men, Women, and Boats, published in 1921 by Boni & Liveright, New York. It is here reprinted by permission of Alfred A. Knopf.
A Dark-Brown Dog
A child was standing on a street-corner. He leaned with one shoulder against a high board fence and swayed the other to and fro, the while kicking carelessly at the gravel.
A Dark-Brown Dog – Sunshine beat upon the cobbles, and a lazy summer wind raised yellow dust which trailed in clouds down the avenue. Clattering trucks moved with indistinctness through it. The child stood dreamily gazing. After a time, a little dark-brown dog came trotting with an intent air down the sidewalk. A short rope was dragging from his neck. Occasionally he trod upon the end of it and stumbled.
He stopped opposite the child, and the two regarded each other. The dog hesitated for a moment, but presently he made some little advances with his tail. The child put out his hand and called him. In an apologetic manner the dog came close, and the two had an interchange of friendly pattings and waggles. The dog became more enthusiastic with each moment of the interview, until with his gleeful caperings he threatened to overturn the child. Whereupon the child lifted his hand and struck the dog a blow upon the head.
This thing seemed to overpower and astonish the little dark-brown dog, and wounded him to the heart. He sank down in despair at the child’s feet. When the blow was repeated, together with an admonition in childish sentences, he turned over upon his back, and held his paws in a peculiar manner. At the same time with his ears and his eyes he offered a small prayer to the child.
