The Little Dog Laughed (Google Books ⧉, Amazon ⧉, Bookshop ⧉)
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Ask The Dust
Oh, I got a lot of letters, but this was the only beautiful letter, and it came in the morning, and it said (he was talking about The Little Dog Laughed) he had read The Little Dog Laughed and liked it; he said, Mr Bandini, if ever I saw a genius, you are it.
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No wonder there wasn’t a woman in the The Little Dog Laughed. No wonder it wasn’t a love story, you fool, you dirty little schoolboy.
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It would impress upon him the fact that I was the selfsame author of The Little Dog Laughed.
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Eight o’clock, and I was down on Spring Street. I had a copy of The Little Dog Laughed in my pocket. She would think differently about me if she read that story. I had it autographed, right there in my back pocket, ready to present at the slightest notice.
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Now that the show was over, he disappeared behind the partition. I sat smiling wretchedly, my heart weeping for The Little Dog Laughed, for every well-turned phrase, for the little flecks of poetry through it, my first story, the best thing I could show for my whole life. It was the record of all that was good in me, approved and printed by the great J. C. Hackmuth, and she had torn it up and thrown it into a spittoon.
Ask The Dust
I remember that I walked into the dark lobby carrying two suitcases, one of them filled with copies of The Little Dog Laughed.
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$175! Arturo Bandini, author of The Little Dog Laughed and The Long Lost Hills.
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I walked to it at once, and pulled out the issue containing The Little Dog Laughed. The priest had seated himself. ‘This is a great magazine,’ I said. ‘The greatest of them all.’
Ask The Dust
Oh Jesus, Arturo, you're marvellous! Maybe you did write The Little Dog Laughed, but you'll never write Casanova’s Memoirs. What are you doing, sitting here? Dreaming of some great masterpiece? Oh you fool, Bandini!
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Arturo Bandini, author of The Little Dog Laughed and a certain plagiarization from Ernest Dowson, and a certain telegram proposing marriage.
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I did not kiss her. She kissed me, author of The Little Dog Laughed. Then she took my wrist with her two hands.
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But it was not the kind of fun I got from seeing The Little Dog Laughed in Hackmuth’s magazine.
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