The Parenticide Club | Page 8

in point of artistic atrocity my
murder of Uncle William has seldom been excelled."

OIL OF DOG
My name is Boffer Bings. I was born of honest parents in one of the
humbler walks of life, my father being a manufacturer of dog-oil and
my mother having a small studio in the shadow of the village church,
where she disposed of unwelcome babes. In my boyhood I was trained
to habits of industry; I not only assisted my father in procuring dogs for
his vats, but was frequently employed by my mother to carry away the
debris of her work in the studio. In performance of this duty I
sometimes had need of all my natural intelligence for all the law
officers of the vicinity were opposed to my mother's business. They
were not elected on an opposition ticket, and the matter had never been
made a political issue; it just happened so. My father's business of
making dog-oil was, naturally, less unpopular, though the owners of
missing dogs sometimes regarded him with suspicion, which was
reflected, to some extent, upon me. My father had, as silent partners, all
the physicians of the town, who seldom wrote a prescription which did
not contain what they were pleased to designate as _Ol. can._ It is
really the most valuable medicine ever discovered. But most persons
are unwilling to make personal sacrifices for the afflicted, and it was
evident that many of the fattest dogs in town had been forbidden to
play with me--a fact which pained my young sensibilities, and at one
time came near driving me to become a pirate.
Looking back upon those days, I cannot but regret, at times, that by
indirectly bringing my beloved parents to their death I was the author
of misfortunes profoundly affecting my future.
One evening while passing my father's oil factory with the body of a
foundling from my mother's studio I saw a constable who seemed to be

closely watching my movements. Young as I was, I had learned that a
constable's acts, of whatever apparent character, are prompted by the
most reprehensible motives, and I avoided him by dodging into the
oilery by a side door which happened to stand ajar. I locked it at once
and was alone with my dead. My father had retired for the night. The
only light in the place came from the furnace, which glowed a deep,
rich crimson under one of the vats, casting ruddy reflections on the
walls. Within the cauldron the oil still rolled in indolent ebullition,
occasionally pushing to the surface a piece of dog. Seating myself to
wait for the constable to go away, I held the naked body of the
foundling in my lap and tenderly stroked its short, silken hair. Ah, how
beautiful it was! Even at that early age I was passionately fond of
children, and as I looked upon this cherub I could almost find it in my
heart to wish that the small, red wound upon its breast--the work of my
dear mother--had not been mortal.
It had been my custom to throw the babes into the river which nature
had thoughtfully provided for the purpose, but that night I did not dare
to leave the oilery for fear of the constable. "After all," I said to myself,
"it cannot greatly matter if I put it into this cauldron. My father will
never know the bones from those of a puppy, and the few deaths which
may result from administering another kind of oil for the incomparable
_ol. can._ are not important in a population which increases so rapidly."
In short, I took the first step in crime and brought myself untold sorrow
by casting the babe into the cauldron.
The next day, somewhat to my surprise, my father, rubbing his hands
with satisfaction, informed me and my mother that he had obtained the
finest quality of oil that was ever seen; that the physicians to whom he
had shown samples had so pronounced it. He added that he had no
knowledge as to how the result was obtained; the dogs had been treated
in all respects as usual, and were of an ordinary breed. I deemed it my
duty to explain--which I did, though palsied would have been my
tongue if I could have foreseen the consequences. Bewailing their
previous ignorance of the advantages of combining their industries, my
parents at once took measures to repair the error. My mother removed
her studio to a wing of the factory building and my duties in connection
with the business ceased; I was no longer required to dispose of the
bodies of the small superfluous, and there was no need of alluring dogs

to their doom, for my father discarded them altogether, though they still
had