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Show 97 street. Master Hermann cowered behind the door, yelling, "Kill it, Geist. Kill it!" I couldn't see a rock or a stick anywhere, and the dog was not paying any attention to me. It stopped running in circles and ran straight into the thick trunk of a linden tree growing across the street from the shop. It fell down, stunned, then got up and charged into the tree trunk again, as though it were trying to dash out its own brains. Again and again it threw itself head-first against the tree as I stood watching in growing horror. Then its hind legs spread out grotesquely and it pulled itself along the ground by its front legs, writhing with convulsions. After a few more piteous howls, it lay silent on the guound. "What happened? Did you kill it?" Master Hermann poked his head around the door. "Is it dead?" "I don't know." "Well, go and see. Make sure it is dead. A mad dog...so dangerous... I walked slowly to where the little yellow animal lay stretched ofot on the stones. I nudged it with my toe and it didn't move. I knelt down to examine it. It was dead. So small, hardly more than a puppy, it was the same yellow dog which had seized the bun in the square. "It's dead," I told Master Hermann. "Take it somewhere and bury it," he ordered me. "Dead animals lying in the street are bad for business. Get rid of it." After I had buried the little thing and came back to my place |