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Updated: June 10, 2025
What delicious thoughts it has there nestled with its fellows under the fence, turning acid into sugar, and sugar into wine! How pleasing to the touch! I love to stroke its polished rondure with my hand, to carry it in my pocket on my tramp over the winter hills, or through the early spring woods. You are company, you red-checked spitz, or you salmon-fleshed greening!
Its unfortunate owner, with a look which nearly annihilated me, fled up-stairs to her apartment. Nor was my discomfiture then ended. That Spitz that precious Spitz belonged to Blue-Eyes; I tried to coax him to relinquish his game; he would not be persuaded, and, in the ardor of his pursuit, he swallowed the cruel hook.
He was called Sol-leks, which means the Angry One. Like Dave, he asked nothing, gave nothing, expected nothing; and when he marched slowly and deliberately into their midst, even Spitz left him alone. He had one peculiarity which Buck was unlucky enough to discover. He did not like to be approached on his blind side.
Please let me kill something!" "Aye, lad!" said Spitz, with a grim smile at my enthusiasm. "There's a sheep in your path. Go out and cleave it to the saddle. And bring the saddle home!" My sister-in-law might have thought me cruel but I did it. I know not how it was compassed, but that night Rupert of Glasgow was left bound and gagged against the door of the castle, and the night-bell pulled.
A footman was walking along the pavement opposite, with two fat pugs and a white Spitz in the last stage of obesity in tow, which it was his melancholy duty to parade daily up and down for their mid-day airing. An occasional hansom dashing quickly by broke the stillness of the "empty" hour.
As he watched his master this half of an ear stood up like a galvanized stub, while the other twice as long was perked forward in the deepest and most interested enquiry. Head, feet, and tail were Mackenzie hound, but the ears and his lank, skinny body was a battle royal between Spitz and Airedale.
Where are they taking my horses? and got to my feet 'Out of the courtyard with you! screamed the castellan, 'Sick him, Caesar! Sick him, Hunter! and, 'Sick him, Spitz! he called, and a pack of more than twelve dogs rushed at me. Then I tore something from the fence, possibly a picket, and stretched out three dogs dead beside me!
"No; he 'ain't got no time for rhymes like that long-haired Sollie Spitz, that ain't worth his house-room and sits until by the nightshirt I got to hold papa back from going out and telling him we 'ain't got no hotel! Max Hochenheimer is a man what's in a legitimate business." "Please, mamma, keep quiet about him. I don't care if he "
At Athens, in the Street of Tombs, there is a representation of a little Spitz leaping up to the daughter of a family as she is taking leave of them, which bears the date equivalent to 56 B.C., and in the British Museum there is an ancient bronze jar of Greek workmanship, upon which is engraved a group of winged horses at whose feet there is a small dog of undoubted Pomeranian type.
Can you?" he turned to me brusquely. It was an awful moment. I had been drinking heavily too, but I resolved to succeed. "I'm King of Trooly-rooly " I murmured; but I could not master it I staggered and followed the King under the table. "Is there no one here," roared Spitz, "who can shave thish dynasty, and shay 'Tooral ? No! it! I mean 'Trularlooral " but he, too, lurched hopelessly forward.
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