JACK IN OFFICE
In the time of Landseer a familiar
figure about the streets of London was the itinerant
dealer in dog’s meat. His outfit consisted
of a square covered wheelbarrow in which he carried
the meat, a basket, a pair of scales, knives, skewers,
and similar tools of his trade. His assistant
was a dog, whose duty was to guard the meat barrow
while the butcher called for orders or delivered his
goods. In this capacity a dog would serve even
better than a boy, in keeping hungry animals from
his master’s property. There is a quaint
old saying that “it takes a rogue to catch a
rogue.” The dog’s wages were all the
meat he could eat, and having satisfied himself to
the point of gluttony, there would be no danger of
any inroads on the meat from him.
In our picture a butcher has left
his barrow standing on the cobble-stone pavement at
the corner of the narrow entrance to a square.
His dog Jack controls the situation in his absence,
and rules with undisputed authority.
Such is the master’s confidence
in the dog’s ability to manage, that he has
taken no pains to put the meat away in the barrow.
A large cut is left in the scale pan, and a basket
on the pavement contains some choice bits. Naturally
the tempting odor has drawn a number of stray street
dogs to the place.
From his elevated position Jack surveys
them as a monarch receiving a throng of obsequious
courtiers. As a matter of fact he is himself a
low mongrel cur, vastly inferior in origin to some
of the surrounding dogs. Circumstances having
raised him to a position of authority he regards them
all with supercilious disdain. A miserable, half
starved hound approaches the basket with eyes fixed
hungrily on the contents, the tail drooping between
the shaking legs, the attitude expressing the most
abject wretchedness. He is a canine Uriah Heep
professing himself “so ’umble.”
Behind is a retriever, uplifting a begging paw, and
farther away are other eager dogs. A puppy in
front has just finished eating, and, still gnawing
the skewer, looks up to ask for more.
Not one of them all dares touch the
meat, though Jack moves not a muscle to prevent them.
It is a question whether an overfed, tight-skinned
animal like this would prove a very redoubtable enemy
in a fight. Jack’s influence, however,
is due in no small measure to his sagacious air of
importance. Seated on his haunches, he holds between
his fore legs the handle of the scales as the insignia
of office. A broad collar and a small leather
harness show he has to take his own turn in serving
another. Ignoring the appeal of the puppy, he
turns to the group of larger dogs, regarding them
with a contemptuous expression of his half-closed
eyes. He has been a keen observer of dog nature,
and knows what value to place upon the professions
of these fawning creatures.
The situation inevitably suggests
corresponding relations in human life. It often
happens that a man of inferior qualities is raised
to some position of authority which he holds with
arrogant assumption. Himself the servant of another,
he delights in the exercise of a petty tyranny.
He is forthwith surrounded by a throng of flatterers
seeking the benefits he has to bestow. It is
pitiable to see how some who were originally his superiors
humiliate themselves before him. Like the sycophant
hound and the imploring retriever, they seem to lose
all sense of self-respect.
One can see how easily the picture
of Jack in Office could be converted into a caricature,
and it is not surprising to learn that it has been
used in England as a political cartoon. American
politics might also produce many a parallel situation.
The party boss in a municipal government holding petty
appointments in his control is a veritable Jack in
Office surrounded by his followers.
The humor of the picture is, as we
see, a trifle keener than in Dignity and Impudence.
Arrogance and sycophancy are such despicable qualities,
whether in dog or man, that they are held up not only
for our laughter but for our contempt.
As may be inferred from our previous
illustrations, the greater number of Landseer’s
dog subjects were drawn from animals of the finer
breeds. Jack in Office is unique in our collection
as dealing with the commoner animals of the street.
Even here, however, the painter found material for
his favorite theme of the dog’s fidelity to his
master. Jack is, as it were, the butcher’s
business partner, sharing alike in his labors and
his gains. As we are to see again in our next
picture, the dog which is made the companion of daily
labor is even more to his master than one which is
merely a playmate.
It is instructive to examine one by
one the details of the composition, which the painter
has rendered with much technical skill. The vista
of the square at the end of the alley is a pleasant
feature of the composition, giving a more spacious
background to the group.