Toby – Pekinese

, Brampton Road,

Now, there’s a name for a pub, if you like! It suggests the
inexorable enemy; it might serve, too, as a useful excuse for going
home a little late 0’ nights.

Truth to tell, is a typical London pub, with
all the bonhomie and convivial atmosphere that these words
suggest. And yet, in another way, this friendly pub is not typical of
anything but itself, for it is within these friendly walls that



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the Pekinese

is a Pekinese of four and a half; he is also possessed of
the master dog brain. In short, likes his beer, but it must be
Burton. Nothing else, however good, will serve. Yes, is
nothing if not fussy about his drinks. One has never seen a look of
scorn until he is present when Toby is offered a glass of water. I
tried it myself, and I can see that in Toby’s eyes I have a lot to
live down.

Quite apart from being a host in himself, Toby is a versatile
gentleman. He will, for example, burst into song at the first request,
and you instinctively think of the pianist you were asked not to
shoot. And a dog that will sing can have all the Burton my over-
taxed finances will stand.

Assuredly, Burton is good for Toby. . . .
lt is this willingness to be a friend, this ability to sing you out
of your troubles, this dog-to-man honesty of talking it over a Burton
that explains Toby’s widespread popularity. It may serve too, on
occasion, to try out the old, old story of “Sorry”didn’t know it
was so late”.
And in that excuse, Toby and play their parts.

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