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not the majority of dogs killed suspected of
hydrophobia, are suffering from other relatively
harmless diseases. But even if this can be proved by
post-mortem examination—not one in a dozen of
ordinary doctors and vets is competent to do it—
it is as a rule most difficult to convince the person
who has been bitten by the dog. The dread of
the terrible disease remains, and to be haunted
by the fear of hydrophobia is as dangerous as the
disease itself. The right thing to do is to have the
suspected dog safely locked up and provided with
food and drink. If he is alive after ten days it is
certain that it is not rabies and all is well.
Next morning when I watched the dog through
the half-open door he wagged his stump of a tail
and looked at me with a quite friendly expression
in his blood-shot eyes. But just as I stretched
out my hand to pat him, he retired under the bed
with a growl. I did not know what to think.
Anyhow I told his master I did not believe he was
rabid. He would not hear of it and again begged
me to shoot the dog at once. I refused and said I
wanted to wait another day. His master had
spent the night walking to and fro in the studio
and on the table lay a medical handbook with
the symptoms of hydrophobia in man and dog
marked with a pencil. I threw the book in the
fire. His neighbour, a Russian sculptor, who had
promised me to remain with him the whole day,
told me in the evening he had refused all food
and drink, was constantly wiping saliva from
his lips and talked about nothing but
hydrophobia. I insisted upon his drinking a cup of
coffee. He looked at me desperately and said he
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