"Oh, yes," said the man, cheerfully, "very simple thing, training a
bull-dog. Wants patience, that's all."
"Oh, that will be all right," said my uncle; "it can't want much more
than living in the same house with him before he's trained does. How
do you start?"
"Well, I'll tell you," said next-door-but-one. "You take him up into
a room where there's not much furniture, and you shut the door and
bolt it."
"I see," said my uncle.
"Then you place him on the floor in the middle of the room, and you go
down on your knees in front of him, and begin to irritate him."
"Oh!"
"Yes--and you go on irritating him until you have made him quite
savage."
"Which, from what I know of the dog, won't take long," observed my
uncle thoughtfully.
"So much the better. The moment he gets savage he will fly at you."
My uncle agreed that the idea seemed plausible.
"He will fly at your throat," continued the next-door-but-one man,
"and this is where you will have to be careful. _As_ he springs
toward you, and _before_ he gets hold of you, you must hit him a fair
straight blow on his nose, and knock him down."
"Yes, I see what you mean."
"Quite so--well, the moment you have knocked him down, he will jump up
and go for you again. You must knock him down again; and you must
keep on doing this, until the dog is thoroughly cowed and exhausted.
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