Posts Tagged ‘Dogs’

Porker Delights in Chase

December 5, 2012

chester white pig and man with basket

Image from Ebay – “Pig Roast 2” – 1911


Porker That Delights in Chase is Product of Delaware Village.

J.H. Lankford, of Lewes, a small village near Delmar, Del., has what he claims to be the original and only hunting pig in existence. Sir Grunter, who is a thoroughbred Chester White first made his appearance at the Lankford homestead last August and was allowed to run around the house the a pair of small rabbit dogs. At an early age he showed signs of being a hunter and would follow the dogs to the woods and remain until they returned. When the season was open for rabbit hunting Lankford tried to induce “Piggie” to stay at home, but he persisted in following and he allowed him to go with the dogs.

Several rabbits were chased and the pig was constantly following the dogs, but when he found they were running ahead of him he would cut across. When the gun was fired the pig was first to grunt his satisfaction. Lankford will not sell the pig, but says he thinks after careful training he will be able to hunt him without the dogs.

The News (Frederick, Maryland) Dec 4, 1912

Same Dog, Different Day

November 19, 2012

Image from Bite the Apple

Teacher (sternly) — This essay on “Our Dog” is word for word the same as your brother’s.

Small Boy — Yes, ma’am; it’s the same dog.

Sheboygan Press (Sheboygan, Wisconsin) Mar 2, 1934

Stupid Cop Tricks

September 26, 2012

Image from Homicide in Chicago 1870-1930 (not the officer in the story)


CHICAGO, Nov 20. — Policeman Mike Quigley, attempting to accommodate a customer who desired a slippery dog killed, shot himself in the leg. The dog tried to run thru Mike’s legs as the cop fired.

The Lincoln State Journal (Lincoln, Nebraska) Nov 20, 1922

Aw Shucks!

September 6, 2012

Aw Shucks!
He has to go back to school now
Reckon we won’t be goin’ fishin’
Er swimmin’ anymore
Betcha he’ll fergit all about me anyway!

Alton Democrat (Alton, Iowa) Sep 2, 1938

The Dutchman Loseth his Dog and Singeth

May 29, 2012

Image from TEXANS UNITED Presents TEXAS

The Dutchman’s Song.


Oh, Vare! and oh, vare!
Has ter leetle toggy gone?
Oh, vare! and oh, vare!
Can ter raschal tog pe gone?
He’s gone unto ter tivel,
He’s gone mit him I fear;
He may be one pig sausage —
Mine tog — oh, tear! oh, tear!

Oh, vare, and oh, vare!
Can te yaller tog pe gone?
Oh, vare! and oh, vare!
Hash ter schoundrel tog pe gone?
I vood give you von goot tollar
To him ash tells to me
Vare I can find ter toggy,
Or shows me vere he pe.

His bark was full of musick,
It goes just like ting tong;
His ears vere cut off short,
His tail vas cut off long;
He ush’d ter drive ter schickens,
And say to tem pow-wow;
But he’sh gone unto the dickens —
Vy! here comes Schnapps now!

Oh, vare! and oh, vare!
Hash ter good-for-nothin’ peen?
Oh, vare! and oh, vare!
Can ter rascheal toggy peen?
I tink he’sh peen koon hunting —
I tink he’sh goot for koons,
Cause tere’s nothing else he’sh goot for
Under the stars and moons.

Come here, you tam vagabond! — vere you been, eh? O mine noshe! you smells vorse ash one schunk; I vips now mit ter proom, for having to do mit so pad people as schunks. If you runs away agin, I puts you in ter papers, and you ish ruined forever.

The Mountain Democrat (Placerville, California) Sep 9, 1854


From Wikipedia’s entry for Septimus Winner:

Another of his successes, and still familiar, is “Der Deitcher’s Dog”, or “Oh Where, oh Where Ish Mine Little Dog Gone”, a text that Winner set to the German folk tune “Im Lauterbach hab’ich mein’ Strumpf verlorn” in 1864, which recorded massive sales during Winner’s lifetime.

The first verse of “Der Deitcher’s Dog” is particularly noteworthy as its first verse has become a popular nursery rhyme:

Oh where, oh where has my little dog gone?

Oh where, oh where can he be?

With his ears cut short, and his tail cut long,

Oh where, oh where is he?

Modern versions occasionally change “cut” to “so”.

The original song is written in German dialect, and subsequent verses praise lager but lament the fact that “mit no money” it is not possible to drink, and praise sausages and thence to speculate on the fate of the missing dog:

Dey makes un mit dog und dey makes em mit horse,

I guess dey makes em mit he

The Beggar and his Dog

May 6, 2012

Image from the Boston Public Library via flickr

The Beggar and his Dog.


THREE dollars, three, for my dog to pay!
Lightining strike me this moment, I pray!
What can they mean, these tyrant police?
Where will their grinding of poor men cease?

I am a broken, old, weary man,
And earn a penny, I never can;
I have no money, no bread, no dole;
Hunger and want are my portion sole.

And when I sickn’d and fevershook me?
Who pitied me when all else forsook me?
When alone in God’s wide world I stood,
Who was it bore me companionhood?

When my woes were sorest, whose love was unflinching?
Who warm’d my limbs when the forst was pinching?
And when I was hungry and surely, who
Growl’d not, but patiently hunger’d too?

OUr wretched lfie we have both, old friend,
Drain’d to the dregs; it must have an end;
Old and sickly thou’rt grown like me,
I must drown thee, — and this is my thanks to thee!

This is my thanks for thy love unswerving!
‘Tis the way of the world with all deserving,
Though my part in many a fight I have play’d,
‘S death! I am new at the hangman’s trade.

Here is the cord, here it the stone,
There is the water it must be done!
Come hither, poor cur, not a look on me cast,
One push with my foot, and all is past!

As he tied round its neck the fatal band,
The fog fawn’d on him and lick’d his hand;
He tore back the cord in trembling haste,
And round his own neck he bound it fast.

And wildly he utter’d a fearful curse;
And wildly he gathered his latest force,
And he plunged in the flood; white eddies rush’d
Recoiled, chafed, bubbled, and all was hush’d.

In vain sprang the dog to his rescue then,
Howl’d to the ships for the aid of men,
Whining and tugging gathered them round, —
‘Twas the corpse of the beggar was borne,

To the grave in silence the beggar was borne,
With the dog alone to follow and mourn;
And over the turf that wrapped his clay,
The fond brute stretch’d him, and died where he lay!

Hillsdale Whig Standard (Hillsdale, Michigan) Jul 21, 1846