Originally Posted by JeromeKJerome
"A great many burglaries had lately taken place in our neighbourhood," he began, "and the pater came to the conclusion that it was time he laid down a dog. He thought a bull-dog would be the best for his purpose, and he purchased the most savage and murderous-looking specimen that he could find.
"My mother was alarmed when she saw the dog. 'Surely you're not going to let that brute loose about the house!' she exclaimed. 'He'll kill somebody. I can see it in his face.'
"'I want him to kill somebody,' replied my father; 'I want him to kill burglars.'
"'I don't like to hear you talk like that, Thomas,' answered the mater; 'it's not like you. We've a right to protect our property, but we've no right to take a fellow human creature's life.'
"'Our fellow human creatures will be all right--so long as they don't come into our kitchen when they've no business there,' retorted my father, somewhat testily. 'I'm going to fix up this dog in the scullery, and if a burglar comes fooling around--well, that's _his_ affair.'
"The old folks quarrelled on and off for about a month over this dog. The dad thought the mater absurdly sentimental, and the mater thought the dad unnecessarily vindictive. Meanwhile the dog grew more ferocious-looking every day.
"One night my mother woke my father up with: 'Thomas, there's a burglar downstairs, I'm positive. I distinctly heard the kitchen door open.'
"'Oh, well, the dog's got him by now, then,' murmured my father, who had heard nothing, and was sleepy.
"'Thomas,' replied my mother severely, 'I'm not going to lie here while a fellow-creature is being murdered by a savage beast. If you won't go down and save that man's life, I will.'
"'Oh, bother,' said my father, preparing to get up. 'You're always fancying you hear noises. I believe that's all you women come to bed for--to sit up and listen for burglars.' Just to satisfy her, however, he pulled on his trousers and socks, and went down.
"Well, sure enough, my mother was right, this time. There _was_ a burglar in the house. The pantry window stood open, and a light was shining in the kitchen. My father crept softly forward, and peeped through the partly open door. There sat the burglar, eating cold beef and pickles, and there, beside him, on the floor, gazing up into his face with a blood-curdling smile of affection, sat that idiot of a dog, wagging his tail.
"My father was so taken aback that he forgot to keep silent.
"'Well, I'm--,' and he used a word that I should not care to repeat to you fellows.
"The burglar, hearing him, made a dash, and got clear off by the window; and the dog seemed vexed with my father for having driven him away.
"Next morning we took the dog back to the trainer from whom we had bought it.
"'What do you think I wanted this dog for?' asked my father, trying to speak calmly.
"'Well,' replied the trainer, 'you said you wanted a good house dog.'
"'Exactly so,' answered the dad. 'I didn't ask for a burglar's companion, did I? I didn't say I wanted a dog who'd chum on with a burglar the first time he ever came to the house, and sit with him while he had supper, in case he might feel lonesome, did I?' And my father recounted the incidents of the previous night.
"The man agreed that there was cause for complaint. 'I'll tell you what it is, sir,' he said. 'It was my boy Jim as trained this 'ere dawg, and I guess the young beggar's taught 'im more about tackling rats than burglars. You leave 'im with me for a week, sir; I'll put that all right.'
"We did so, and at the end of the time the trainer brought him back again.
"'You'll find 'im game enough now, sir,' said the man. ''E ain't what I call an intellectual dawg, but I think I've knocked the right idea into 'im.'
"My father thought he'd like to test the matter, so we hired a man for a shilling to break in through the kitchen window while the trainer held the dog by a chain. The dog remained perfectly quiet until the man was fairly inside. Then he made one savage spring at him, and if the chain had not been stout the fellow would have earned his shilling dearly.
"The dad was satisfied now that he could go to bed in peace; and the mater's alarm for the safety of the local burglars was proportionately increased.
"Months passed uneventfully by, and then another burglar sampled our house. This time there could be no doubt that the dog was doing something for his living. The din in the basement was terrific. The house shook with the concussion of falling bodies.
"My father snatched up his revolver and rushed downstairs, and I followed him. The kitchen was in confusion. Tables and chairs were overturned, and on the floor lay a man gurgling for help. The dog was standing over him, choking him.
"The pater held his revolver to the man's ear, while I, by superhuman effort, dragged our preserver away, and chained him up to the sink, after which I lit the gas.
"Then we perceived that the gentleman on the floor was a police constable.
"'Good heavens!' exclaimed my father, dropping the revolver, 'however did you come here?'
"''Ow did _I_ come 'ere?' retorted the man, sitting up and speaking in a tone of bitter, but not unnatural, indignation. 'Why, in the course of my dooty, that's 'ow _I_ come 'ere. I see a burglar getting in through the window, so I just follows and slips in after 'im.'
"'Did you catch him?' asked my father.
"'Did I catch 'im!' almost shrieked the man. ''Ow could I catch 'im with that blasted dog of yours 'olding me down by the throat, while 'e lights 'is pipe and walks out by the back door?'
...
Jerome k Jerome "Novel Notes", Chapter 2.
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