This incident had the effect for a time of somewhat diminishing the delight which the denizens of the Grey Way took in mockery. But after some time had elapsed, his surprising action was forgotten, and a great number of healthy, cheery, and cruel throats once more shouted after the stooped and indecisive man: “Ho, ho, Tobias!”
One sunny forenoon at eleven o’clock Mindernickel left the house and walked through the entire town out towards the Lerchenberg, a far-stretching hill, which constituted the most fashionable afternoon promenade of the place. The pleasant spring weather which prevailed at this time had, however, induced a number of pedestrians and owners of carriages to visit the promenade thus early. A man with a young hunting-dog on a leash stood under one of the trees in the avenue, and manifested to the passersby his intention of selling this dog. It was a small, yellow, and muscular animal, about four months old, with a black ring about one eye, and one black ear.
As Tobias noticed this at a distance of ten paces, he stood still, passed his hand across his chin several times, and looked thoughtfully at the man and the little dog with its tail wagging alertly. He then went on again, and, with the crook of his cane pressed against his mouth, thrice encircled the tree against which the man was leaning, then went up to him, and, while he kept his eye fixed upon the dog, asked in a low and hasty voice: “How much for the dog?”
“Ten marks,” said the man.
Tobias was silent for a moment and then repeated, indecisively: “Ten marks?”
“Yes,” said the man.
Tobias then drew forth a black leather purse from his pocket, took out a five-mark, a three- and a two-mark note, hastily handed this money to the seller of the dog, seized the leash, and with a shy and humble glance about him—for a number of people had observed the sale and were laughing—pulled the yelping and struggling animal along behind him. He fought the entire way, braced his forelegs against the ground, and looked up with anxious, questioning eye at his new master, who kept on tugging with silent energy, and so they came safely back through the town.
A vast commotion ensued among the street children of the Grey Way when Tobias appeared with the dog, but he took him in his arms, bent his head over him, and hurried through the mocking cries and the laughter, and the pulls at his coattails, up the stairs and into his room. Here he put down the dog, who was persistently whining, stroked him kindly, and said with condescension: “Well, well, you needn’t be afraid of me, you animal; that’s quite unnecessary.”
Hereupon he opened a drawer in the bureau and took out a plate with cooked meat and potatoes, and threw a portion of this to the dog, which at once stopped whining and swallowed the food with smacking chops and wagging tail.
“And your name is going to be Esau,” said Tobias; “do you understand? Esau. You will be able to remember that simple sound.” Then, pointing at the floor in front of him, he called in a tone of command: “Esau!”
The dog, no doubt in hopes of getting still more to eat, came at the call. Tobias patted his sides approvingly, and said: “Quite right, my friend; you deserve praise.”
He then stepped back a few paces, pointed at the floor again, and commanded anew: “Esau!”
And the animal, which had grown quite merry, again came bounding up and licked the boots of his master.
This trick Tobias repeated at least twelve or fourteen times, with unflagging pleasure in the command and its execution; but finally the dog appeared to be tired; he seemed anxious to rest and digest, and laid himself down upon the floor in the pretty and clever pose which hunting-dogs assume, with both of his long and delicately shaped forelegs stretched out close beside each other.
“Once more!” said Tobias. “Esau!”
But Esau turned his head aside and did not move.
“Esau!” cried Tobias, with loud, imperious voice, “you’ve got to come, even when you’re tired!”
But Esau laid his head upon his paws and did not come.
“See here!” said Tobias, and his voice was full of suppressed and terrible threats, “you obey, or you’ll discover that it’s not wise to irritate me!”
But the dog merely moved his tail a little.
Hereupon Mindernickel was seized by a vast, a disproportionate and furious anger. He seized his black cane, lifted Esau by the scruff of his neck, and began to rain blows upon the yelping little animal. Beside himself with furious indignation, he kept repeating in a terribly hissing voice: “So! you disobey? You dare to disobey me?”
Finally he threw the stick aside, put the whimpering dog on the floor, and began walking up and down with his hands behind his back, drawing deep breaths, while now and again he threw a disdainful and angry glance at Esau. After he had paced to and fro for a time, he stood still before the animal, which lay upon its back and moved its front legs in a beseeching fashion. Tobias folded his arms upon his breast and spoke with that dreadfully cold, hard look and voice with which Napoleon confronted the company which had lost its eagle in battle: “How have you behaved yourself, if I may ask?”
And the dog, already happy at this advance, crawled still closer, snuggled against the leg of his master, and looked up at him imploringly with his shining eyes.
For quite a while Tobias looked down upon the humiliated creature in silence, but then, as he began to feel the tender warmth of the body against his leg, he took Esau in his arms.
“Well, I will have pity on you,”
