The Jew's exhibition had scarcely concluded, when a great, elderly dog--who
seemed to be his own master, as no person in the company laid claim to him--saw
fit to render himself the object of public notice. Hitherto, he had shown
himself a very quiet, well disposed old dog, going round from one to another,
and, by way of being sociable, offering his rough head to be patted by any
kindly hand that would take so much trouble. But now, all of a sudden, this
grave and venerable quadruped, of his own mere motion, and without the slightest
suggestion from anybody else, began to run round after his tail, which, to
heighten the absurdity of the proceeding, was a great deal shorter than it
should have been. Never was seen such headlong eagerness in pursuit of an
object that could not possibly be attained; never was heard such a tremendous
outbreak of growling, snarling, barking, and snapping--as if one end of the
ridiculous brute's body were at deadly and most unforgivable enmity with the
other. Faster and faster, round about went the cur; and faster and still faster
fled the unapproachable brevity of his tail; and louder and fiercer grew his
yells of rage and animosity; until, utterly exhausted, and as far from the
goal as ever, the foolish old dog ceased his performance as suddenly as he
had begun it. The next moment he was as mild, quiet, sensible, and respectable
in his deportment, as when he first scraped acquaintance with the company.
