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Updated: May 16, 2025
Occasionally Fussie would thump his tail on the ground to express his pleasure. Wherever we went in America the hotel people wanted to get rid of the dog.
Fussie, during these early American tours, was still my dog. Later on he became Henry's. He had his affections alienated by a course of chops, tomatoes, strawberries, "ladies' fingers" soaked in champagne, and a beautiful fur rug of his very own presented by the Baroness Burdett-Coutts! How did I come by Fussie? I went to Newmarket with Rosa Corder, whom Whistler painted.
Maude Adams, sitting looking into the fire, did not see Fussie, but was amazed to hear John Drew departing madly from the text: "Is this a dog I see before me, His tail towards my hand? Come, let me clutch thee." She began to think that he had really gone mad!
Fussie was his constant companion. When he died, Henry was really alone. He never spoke of what he felt about it, but it was easy to know. We used to get hints how to get this and that from watching Fussie! His look, his way of walking! He sang, whispered eloquently and low then barked suddenly and whispered again! Such a lesson in the law of contrasts!
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