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Updated: June 13, 2025
"Toto," answered Betty, dimpling, brushing the dirt from her skirts and daintily shaking out the fluffy dog. "See what a darling he is, Bob. Do you suppose I could let a train run over him?" Bob admitted, grudgingly, for he was still nervous and shaken, that Toto was a "cute mutt," and then, when they had restored him to his grateful mistress, they went on to their goal.
Carter followed him. "If she hadn't been terrified over you, if she hadn't the insane idea of duty and loyalty to you, would she have come? Would she?" Jimsy King sat down and looked at him, aghast. "Good Lord, Cart' that's the truth! That shows what a mutt I am. It hasn't struck me before. It's all my fault."
"It wasn't my fault," said Fillmore querulously. "It was just my poisonous luck. A man I knew got me to join a syndicate which had bought up a lot of whisky. The idea was to ship it into Chicago in herring-barrels. We should have cleaned up big, only a mutt of a detective took it into his darned head to go fooling about with a crowbar. Officious ass!
"This damned dog business worries me." "Worries me, too," Harrington said. "I'm fond of that mutt, and God only knows what sort of stuff he's been getting to eat." "I'm a lot more worried about why Keeluk was hiding him, and why he was willing to murder the only two Terrans on Konkrook who trust him, to prevent our finding out he had Stalin," Blount struck in.
Montagu's topical rhymes in another; and the daily adventures of Mutt and Jeff, who are national heroes, in a third. Every day, for ever, do those and other regular features occur in certain of the papers: which is partly why no American ever seems to confine himself, as is our custom, to only one.
J. John Reynolds, backer of the Bunch, had promised to come down, later. Chief of Police, Bill Hobard, was there, looking grim, as if he was half glad and half sorry to lose this passel of law-abiding but worrisome young eccentrics. There were various cynical and curious loafers around, too. There were Chippie Potter and his mutt a more wistful and worshipping pair would have been hard to imagine.
"What do you know about Charles asking for Charlotte?" was Billy's only answer. "Isn't he just the sort of mutt who would ask for Charlotte!" "Isn't she quite lovely?" said Mrs. Gregory from over the fleecy yarn she was knitting, when the guests had gone. "Carol?" the doctor countered. "Yes, Carol, too. But I was thinking of Mrs. Breckenridge. Do you see her very often, James?" "Quite a bit.
Well, he's too busy catchin' up wit' his breat' to shoot it back swift, but, after he's bin doin' de deep-breathin' strut for a while, he says, 'You mutt, he says, 'youse is to de bad. You've made a break, you have. Dat's right. Surest t'ing you know. He puts it different, but dat's what he means. 'I'm a sleut', he says. 'Take dese t'ings off! meanin' de irons.
Another feature of American daily journals comparatively unknown in England is the so-called comic pictorial sequence. All the big papers have from one to half a dozen of these sequences, each by a different artist. Bud Fisher with "Mutt and Jeff" comes first in popularity, I believe, and then there are his rivals and his imitators.
For that he gets called a 'mutt' and a 'dub' and a 'disgrace to the School' and, unless he's lucky enough to break a leg and get out of it before the big game, he has twenty-fours hours of heart-disease and sixty minutes of glory. And his picture in the paper. He knows it's his picture because there's a statement underneath that Bill Jones is the third criminal from the left in the back row.
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