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diff --git a/2818.txt b/2818.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 3c7f16c..0000000 --- a/2818.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,9090 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Beautiful Joe, by Marshall Saunders - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org - - -Title: Beautiful Joe - -Author: Marshall Saunders - -Posting Date: December 8, 2008 [EBook #2818] -Release Date: September, 2001 - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BEAUTIFUL JOE *** - - - - -Produced by David Reed - - - - - -BEAUTIFUL JOE - -By Marshall Saunders - - - - Beautiful Joe an Autobiography - By Marshall Saunders - With an Introduction - By Hezekiah Butterworth - Of Youth's Companion - Philadelphia - - - - - To - George Thorndike Angell - President of the American Humane Education Society - The Massachusetts Society for the Prevention - Of Cruelty to Animals, and the Parent - American Band of Mercy - 19 Milk St., Boston. - This Book Is Respectfully Dedicated - By the Author - - - - -PREFACE - -BEAUTIFUL JOE is a real dog, and "Beautiful Joe" is his real name. -He belonged during the first part of his life to a cruel master, who -mutilated him in the manner described in the story. He was rescued from -him, and is now living in a happy home with pleasant surroundings, and -enjoys a wide local celebrity. - -The character of Laura is drawn from life, and to the smallest detail -is truthfully depicted. The Morris family has its counterparts in real -life, and nearly all of the incidents of the story are founded on fact. - -THE AUTHOR. - - - - -INTRODUCTION - -The wonderfully successful book, entitled "Black Beauty," came like a -living voice out of the animal kingdom. But it spake for the horse, and -made other books necessary; it led the way. After the ready welcome that -it received, and the good it has accomplished and is doing, it follows -naturally that some one should be inspired to write a book to interpret -the life of a dog to the humane feeling of the world. Such a story we -have in "Beautiful Joe." - -The story speaks not for the dog alone, but for the whole animal -kingdom. Through it we enter the animal world, and are made to see as -animals see, and to feel as animals feel. The sympathetic sight of the -author, in this interpretation, is ethically the strong feature of the -book. - -Such books as this is one of the needs of our progressive system of -education. The day-school, the Sunday-school, and all libraries for the -young, demand the influence that shall teach the reader how to live in -sympathy with the animal world; how to understand the languages of the -creatures that we have long been accustomed to call "dumb," and the sign -language of the lower orders of these dependent beings. The church owes -it to her mission to preach and to teach the enforcement of the "bird's -nest commandment;" the principle recognized by Moses in the Hebrew -world, and echoed by Cowper in English poetry, and Burns in the "Meadow -Mouse," and by our own Longfellow in songs of many keys. - -Kindness to the animal kingdom is the first, or a first principle in -the growth of true philanthropy. Young Lincoln once waded across -a half-frozen river to rescue a dog, and stopped in a walk with a -statesman to put back a bird that had fallen out of its nest. Such -a heart was trained to be a leader of men, and to be crucified for a -cause. The conscience that runs to the call of an animal in distress is -girding itself with power to do manly work in the world. - -The story of "Beautiful Joe" awakens an intense interest, and sustains -it through a series of vivid incidents and episodes, each of which is -a lesson. The story merits the widest circulation, and the universal -reading and response accorded to "Black Beauty." To circulate it is -to do good, to help the human heart as well as the creatures of quick -feelings and simple language. - -When, as one of the committee to examine the manuscripts offered for -prizes to the Humane Society, I read the story, I felt that the writer -had a higher motive than to compete for a prize; that the story was a -stream of sympathy that flowed from the heart; that it was genuine; -that it only needed a publisher who should be able to command a wide -influence, to make its merits known, to give it a strong educational -mission. - -I am pleased that the manuscript has found such a publisher, and am sure -that the issue of the story will honor the Publication Society. In the -development of the book, I believe that the humane cause has stood above -any speculative thought or interest. The book comes because it is called -for; the times demand it. I think that the publishers have a right to -ask for a little unselfish service on the part of the public in helping -to give it a circulation commensurate with its opportunity, need, and -influence. - -HEZEKIAH BUTTERWORTH. - -(Of the committee of readers of the prize stories offered to the Humane -Society.) - -BOSTON, MASS - - - -CONTENTS - - Chapter I. ONLY A CUR - Chapter II. THE CRUEL MILKMAN - Chapter III. MY KIND DELIVERER AND MISS LAURA - Chapter IV. THE MORRIS BOYS ADD TO MY NAME - Chapter V. MY NEW HOME AND A SELFISH LADY - Chapter VI. THE FOX TERRIER BILLY - Chapter VII. TRAINING A PUPPY - Chapter VIII. A RUINED DOG - Chapter IX. THE PARROT BELLA - Chapter X. BILLY'S TRAINING CONTINUED - Chapter XI. GOLDFISH AND CANARIES - Chapter XII. MALTA THE CAT - Chapter XIII. THE BEGINNING OF AN ADVENTURE - Chapter XIV. HOW WE CAUGHT THE BURGLAR - Chapter XV. OUR JOURNEY TO RIVERDALE - Chapter XVI. DINGLEY FARM - Chapter XVII. MR. WOOD AND HIS HORSES - Chapter XVIII. MRS. WOOD'S POULTRY - Chapter XIX. A BAND OF MERCY - Chapter XX. STORIES ABOUT ANIMALS - Chapter XXI. MR. MAXWELL AND MR. HARRY - Chapter XXII. WHAT HAPPENED AT THE TEA TABLE - Chapter XXIII. TRAPPING WILD ANIMALS - Chapter XXIV. THE RABBIT AND THE HEN - Chapter XXV. A HAPPY HORSE - Chapter XXVI. THE BOX OF MONEY - Chapter XXVII. A NEGLECTED STABLE - Chapter XXVIII. THE END OF THE ENGLISHMAN - Chapter XXIX. A TALK ABOUT SHEEP - Chapter XXX. A JEALOUS OX - Chapter XXXI. IN THE COW STABLE - Chapter XXXII. OUR RETURN HOME - Chapter XXXIII. PERFORMING ANIMALS - Chapter XXXIV. A FIRE IN FAIRPORT - Chapter XXXV. BILLY AND THE ITALIAN - Chapter XXXVI. DANDY THE TRAMP - Chapter XXXVII. THE END OF MY STORY - - - - -BEAUTIFUL JOE - - - -CHAPTER I ONLY A CUR - -MY name is Beautiful Joe, and I am a brown dog of medium size. I am not -called Beautiful Joe because I am a beauty. Mr. Morris, the clergyman, -in whose family I have lived for the last twelve years, says that he -thinks I must be called Beautiful Joe for the same reason that his -grandfather, down South, called a very ugly colored slave-lad Cupid, and -his mother Venus. - -I do not know what he means by that, but when he says it, people always -look at me and smile. I know that I am not beautiful, and I know that I -am not a thoroughbred. I am only a cur. - -When my mistress went every year to register me and pay my tax, and the -man in the office asked what breed I was, she said part fox-terrier and -part bull-terrier; but he always put me down a cur. I don't think she -liked having him call me a cur; still, I have heard her say that she -preferred curs, for they have more character than well-bred dogs. Her -father said that she liked ugly dogs for the same reason that a nobleman -at the court of a certain king did namely, that no one else would. - -I am an old dog now, and am writing, or rather getting a friend to -write, the story of my life. I have seen my mistress laughing and crying -over a little book that she says is a story of a horse's life, and -sometimes she puts the book down close to my nose to let me see the -pictures. - -I love my dear mistress; I can say no more than that; I love her better -than any one else in the world; and I think it will please her if I -write the story of a dog's life. She loves dumb animals, and it always -grieves her to see them treated cruelly. - -I have heard her say that if all the boys and girls in the world were -to rise up and say that there should be no more cruelty to animals, they -could put a stop to it. Perhaps it will help a little if I tell a story. -I am fond of boys and girls, and though I have seen many cruel men and -women, I have seen few cruel children. I think the more stories there -are written about dumb animals, the better it will be for us. - -In telling my story, I think I had better begin at the first and come -right on to the end. I was born in a stable on the outskirts of a small -town in Maine called Fairport. The first thing I remember was lying -close to my mother and being very snug and warm. The next thing I -remember was being always hungry. I had a number of brothers and sisters -six in all and my mother never had enough milk for us. She was always -half starved herself, so she could not feed us properly. - -I am very unwilling to say much about my early life. I have lived so -long in a family where there is never a harsh word spoken, and where -no one thinks of ill-treating anybody or anything; that it seems almost -wrong even to think or speak of such a matter as hurting a poor dumb -beast. - -The man that owned my mother was a milkman. He kept one horse and three -cows, and he had a shaky old cart that he used to put his milk cans in. -I don't think there can be a worse man in the world than that milkman. -It makes me shudder now to think of him. His name was Jenkins, and I am -glad to think that he is getting punished now for his cruelty to poor -dumb animals and to human beings. If you think it is wrong that I am -glad, you must remember that I am only a dog. - -The first notice that he took of me when I was a little puppy, just able -to stagger about, was to give me a kick that sent me into a corner of -the stable. He used to beat and starve my mother. I have seen him use -his heavy whip to punish her till her body was covered with blood. When -I got older I asked her why she did not run away. She said she did not -wish to; but I soon found out that the reason she did not run away, was -because she loved Jenkins. Cruel and savage as he was, she yet loved -him, and I believe she would have laid down her life for him. - -Now that I am old, I know that there are more men in the world like -Jenkins. They are not crazy, they are not drunkards; they simply seem to -be possessed with a spirit of wickedness. There are well-to-do people, -yes, and rich people, who will treat animals, and even little children, -with such terrible cruelty, that one cannot even mention the things that -they are guilty of. - -One reason for Jenkins' cruelty was his idleness. After he went his -rounds in the morning with his milk cans, he had nothing to do till late -in the afternoon but take care of his stable and yard. If he had kept -them neat, and groomed his horse, and cleaned the cows, and dug up the -garden, it would have taken up all his time; but he never tidied the -place at all, till his yard and stable got so littered up with things he -threw down that he could not make his way about. - -His house and stable stood in the middle of a large field, and they were -at some distance from the road. Passers-by could not see how untidy the -place was. Occasionally, a man came to look at the premises, and see -that they were in good order, but Jenkins always knew when to expect -him, and had things cleaned up a little. - -I used to wish that some of the people that took milk from him would -come and look at his cows. In the spring and summer he drove them out -to pasture, but during the winter they stood all the time in the dirty, -dark stable, where the chinks in the wall were so big that the snow -swept through almost in drifts. The ground was always muddy and wet; -there was only one small window on the north side, where the sun only -shone in for a short time in the afternoon. - -They were very unhappy cows, but they stood patiently and never -complained, though sometimes I know they must have nearly frozen in the -bitter winds that blew through the stable on winter nights. They were -lean and poor, and were never in good health. Besides being cold they -were fed on very poor food. - -Jenkins used to come home nearly every afternoon with a great tub in -the back of his cart that was full of what he called "peelings." It was -kitchen stuff that he asked the cooks at the different houses where he -delivered milk, to save for him. They threw rotten vegetables, fruit -parings, and scraps from the table into a tub, and gave them to him at -the end of a few days. A sour, nasty mess it always was, and not fit to -give any creature. - -Sometimes, when he had not many "peelings," he would go to town and get -a load of decayed vegetables, that grocers were glad to have him take -off their hands. - -This food, together with poor hay, made the cows give very poor milk, -and Jenkins used to put some white powder in it, to give it "body," as -he said. - -Once a very sad thing happened about the milk, that no one knew about -but Jenkins and his wife. She was a poor, unhappy creature, very -frightened at her husband, and not daring to speak much to him. She was -not a clean woman, and I never saw a worse-looking house than she kept. - -She used to do very queer things, that I know now no housekeeper should -do. I have seen her catch up the broom to pound potatoes in the pot. She -pounded with the handle, and the broom would fly up and down in the -air, dropping dust into the pot where the potatoes were. Her pan of -soft-mixed bread she often left uncovered in the kitchen, and sometimes -the hens walked in and sat in it. - -The children used to play in mud puddles about the door. It was the -youngest of them that sickened with some kind of fever early in the -spring, before Jenkins began driving the cows out to pasture. The child -was very ill, and Mrs. Jenkins wanted to send for a doctor, but her -husband would not let her. They made a bed in the kitchen, close to the -stove, and Mrs. Jenkins nursed the child as best she could. She did all -her work near by, and I saw her several times wiping the child's face -with the cloth that she used for washing her milk pans. - -Nobody knew outside the family that the little girl was ill. Jenkins had -such a bad name, that none of the neighbors would visit them. By-and-by -the child got well, and a week or two later Jenkins came home with quite -a frightened face, and told his wife that the husband of one of his -customers was very ill with typhoid fever. - -After a time the gentleman died, and the cook told Jenkins that the -doctor wondered how he could have taken the fever, for there was not a -case in town. - -There was a widow left with three orphans, and they never knew that -they had to blame a dirty careless milkman for taking a kind husband and -father from them. - - - -CHAPTER II THE CRUEL MILKMAN - -I HAVE said that Jenkins spent most of his days in idleness. He had to -start out very early in the morning, in order to supply his customers -with milk for breakfast. Oh, how ugly he used to be, when he came into -the stable on cold winter mornings, before the sun was up. - -He would hang his lantern on a hook, and get his milking stool, and if -the cows did not step aside just to suit him, he would seize a broom or -fork, and beat them cruelly. - -My mother and I slept on a heap of straw in the corner of the stable, -and when she heard his step in the morning she always roused me, so that -we could run out-doors as soon as he opened the stable door. He always -aimed a kick at us as we passed, but my mother taught me how to dodge -him. - -After he finished milking, he took the pails of milk up to the house -for Mrs. Jenkins to strain and put in the cans, and he came back and -harnessed his horse to the cart. His horse was called Toby, and a poor, -miserable, broken-down creature he was. He was weak in the knees, and -weak in the back, and weak all over, and Jenkins had to beat him all the -time, to make him go. He had been a cab horse, and his mouth had been -jerked, and twisted, and sawed at, till one would think there could be -no feeling left in it; still I have seen him wince and curl up his lip -when Jenkins thrust in the frosty bit on a winter's morning. - -Poor old Toby! I used to lie on my straw some times and wonder he did -not cry out with pain. Cold and half starved he always was in the winter -time, and often with raw sores on his body that Jenkins would try -to hide by putting bits of cloth under the harness. But Toby never -murmured, and he never tried to kick and bite, and he minded the least -word from Jenkins, and if he swore at him Toby would start back, or step -up quickly, he was so anxious to please him. - -After Jenkins put him in the cart, and took in the cans, he set out on -his rounds. My mother, whose name was Jess, always went with him. I used -to ask her why she followed such a brute of a man, and she would hang -her head, and say that sometimes she got a bone from the different -houses they stopped at. But that was not the whole reason. She liked -Jenkins so much, that she wanted to be with him. - -I had not her sweet and patient disposition, and I would not go with -her. I watched her out of sight, and then ran up to the house to see if -Mrs. Jenkins had any scraps for me. I nearly always got something, for -she pitied me, and often gave me a kind word or look with the bits of -food that she threw to me. - -When Jenkins come home, I often coaxed mother to run about and see some -of the neighbors' dogs with me. But she never would, and I would not -leave her. So, from morning to night we had to sneak about, keeping -out of Jenkins' way as much as we could, and yet trying to keep him in -sight. He always sauntered about with a pipe in his mouth, and his hands -in his pockets, growling first at his wife and children, and then at his -dumb creatures. - -I have not told what became of my brothers and sisters. One rainy day, -when we were eight weeks old, Jenkins, followed by two or three of his -ragged, dirty children, came into the stable and looked at us. Then -he began to swear because we were so ugly, and said if we had been -good-looking, he might have sold some of us. Mother watched him -anxiously, and fearing some danger to her puppies, ran and jumped in the -middle of us, and looked pleadingly up at him. - -It only made him swear the more. He took one pup after another, and -right there, before his children and my poor distracted mother, put -an end to their lives. Some of them he seized by the legs and knocked -against the stalls, till their brains were dashed out, others he killed -with a fork. It was very terrible. My mother ran up and down the stable, -screaming with pain, and I lay weak and trembling, and expecting every -instant that my turn would come next. I don't know why he spared me. I -was the only one left. - -His children cried, and he sent them out of the stable and went out -himself. Mother picked up all the puppies and brought them to our nest -in the straw and licked them, and tried to bring them back to life; but -it was of no use, they were quite dead. We had them in our corner of -the stable for some days, till Jenkins discovered them, and swearing -horribly at us, he took his stable fork and threw them out in the yard, -and put some earth over them. - -My mother never seemed the same after this. She was weak and miserable, -and though she was only four years old, she seemed like an old dog. This -was on account of the poor food she had been fed on. She could not run -after Jenkins, and she lay on our heap of straw, only turning over with -her nose the scraps of food I brought her to eat. One day she licked me -gently, wagged her tail, and died. - -As I sat by her, feeling lonely and miserable. Jenkins came into the -stable. I could not bear to look at him. He had killed my mother. There -she lay, a little, gaunt, scarred creature, starved and worried to death -by him. Her mouth was half open, her eyes were staring. She would never -again look kindly at me, or curl up to me at night to keep me warm. Oh, -how I hated her murderer! But I sat quietly, even when he went up and -turned her over with his foot to see if she was really dead. I think he -was a little sorry, for he turned scornfully toward me and said, "She -was worth two of you; why didn't you go instead?" - -Still I kept quiet till he walked up to me and kicked at me. My heart -was nearly broken, and I could stand no more. I flew at him and gave him -a savage bite on the ankle. - -"Oho," he said, "so you are going to be a fighter, are you? I'll fix you -for that." His face was red and furious. He seized me by the back of -the neck and carried me out to the yard where a log lay on the ground. -"Bill," he called to one of his children, "bring me the hatchet." - -He laid my head on the log and pressed one hand on my struggling body. -I was now a year old and a full-sized dog. There was a quick, dreadful -pain, and he had cut off my ear, not in the way they cut puppies' ears, -but close to my head, so close that he cut off some of the skin beyond -it. Then he cut off the other ear, and, turning me swiftly round, cut -off my tail close to my body. - -Then he let me go and stood looking at me as I rolled on the ground and -yelped in agony. He was in such a passion that he did not think that -people passing by on the road might hear me. - - - -CHAPTER III. MY KIND DELIVERER AND MISS LAURA - -THERE was a young man going by on a bicycle. He heard my screams, and -springing off his bicycle, came hurrying up the path, and stood among us -before Jenkins caught sight of him. - -In the midst of my pain, I heard him say fiercely, "What have you been -doing to that dog?" - -"I've been cuttin' his ears for fightin', my young gentleman," said -Jenkins. "There is no law to prevent that, is there?" - -"And there is no law to prevent my giving you a beating," said the young -man angrily. In a trice he had seized Jenkins by the throat and was -pounding him with all his might. Mrs. Jenkins came and stood at the -house door crying, but making no effort to help her husband. - -"Bring me a towel," the young man cried to her, after he had stretched -Jenkins, bruised and frightened, on the ground. She snatched off her -apron and ran down with it, and the young man wrapped me in it, and -taking me carefully in his arms, walked down the path to the gate. There -were some little boys standing there, watching him, their mouths wide -open with astonishment. "Sonny," he said to the largest of them, "if you -will come behind and carry this dog, I will give you a quarter." - -The boy took me, and we set out. I was all smothered up in a cloth, and -moaning with pain, but still I looked out occasionally to see which way -we were going. We took the road to the town and stopped in front of a -house on Washington Street. The young man leaned his bicycle up against -the house, took a quarter from his pocket and put it in the boy's hand, -and lifting me gently in his arms, went up a lane leading to the back of -the house. - -There was a small stable there. He went into it, put me down on the -floor and uncovered my body. Some boys were playing about the stable, -and I heard them say, in horrified tones, "Oh, Cousin Harry, what is the -matter with that dog?" - -"Hush," he said. "Don't make a fuss. You, Jack, go down to the kitchen -and ask Mary for a basin of warm water and a sponge, and don't let your -mother or Laura hear you." - -A few minutes later, the young man had bathed my bleeding ears and tail, -and had rubbed something on them that was cool and pleasant, and had -bandaged them firmly with strips of cotton. I felt much better and was -able to look about me. - -I was in a small stable, that was evidently not used for a stable, but -more for a play-room. There were various kinds of toys scattered -about, and a swing and bar, such as boys love to twist about on; in two -different corners. In a box against the wall was a guinea pig, looking -at me in an interested way. This guinea pig's name was Jeff, and he and -I became good friends. A long-haired French rabbit was hopping about, -and a tame white rat was perched on the shoulder of one of the boys, -and kept his foothold there, no matter how suddenly the boy moved. There -were so many boys, and the stable was so small, that I suppose he was -afraid he would get stepped on if he went on the floor. He stared -hard at me with his little, red eyes, and never even glanced at a -queer-looking, gray cat that was watching me, too, from her bed in the -back of the vacant horse stall. Out in the sunny yard, some pigeons were -pecking at grain, and a spaniel lay asleep in a corner. - -I had never seen anything like this before, and my wonder at it almost -drove the pain away. Mother and I always chased rats and birds, and once -we killed a kitten. While I was puzzling over it, one of the boys cried -out, "Here is Laura!" - -"Take that rag out of the way," said Mr. Harry, kicking aside the old -apron I had been wrapped in, and that was stained with my blood. One of -the boys stuffed it into a barrel, and then they all looked toward the -house. - -A young girl, holding up one hand to shade her eyes from the sun, was -coming up the walk that led from the house to the stable. I thought then -that I never had seen such a beautiful girl, and I think so still. She -was tall and slender, and had lovely brown eyes and brown hair, and a -sweet smile, and just to look at her was enough to make one love her. I -stood in the stable door, staring at her with all my might. - -"Why, what a funny dog," she said, and stopped short to looked at me. Up -to this, I had not thought what a queer-looking sight I must be. Now I -twisted round my head, saw the white bandage on my tail, and knowing I -was not a fit spectacle for a pretty young lady like that, I slunk into -a corner. - -"Poor doggie, have I hurt your feelings?" she said, and with a sweet -smile at the boys, she passed by them and came up to the guinea pig's -box, behind which I had taken refuge. "What is the matter with your -head, good dog?" she said, curiously, as she stooped over me. - -"He has a cold in it," said one of the boys with a laugh; "so we put a -nightcap on." She drew back, and turned very pale. "Cousin Harry, there -are drops of blood on this cotton. Who has hurt this dog?" - -"Dear Laura," and the young man coming up, laid his hand on her -shoulder, "he got hurt, and I have been bandaging him." - -"Who hurt him?" - -"I had rather not tell you." - -"But I wish to know." Her voice was as gentle as ever, but she spoke so -decidedly that the young man was obliged to tell her everything. All the -time he was speaking, she kept touching me gently with her fingers. -When he had finished his account of rescuing me from Jenkins, she said, -quietly: - -"You will have the man punished?" - -"What is the use? That won't stop him from being cruel." - -"It will put a check on his cruelty." - -"I don't think it would do any good," said the young man, doggedly. - -"Cousin Harry!" and the young girl stood up very straight and tall, her -brown eyes flashing, and one hand pointing at me; "will you let that -pass? That animal has been wronged, it looks to you to right it. The -coward who has maimed it for life should be punished. A child has a -voice to tell its wrong a poor, dumb creature must suffer in silence; -in bitter, bitter silence. And," eagerly, as the young man tried to -interrupt her, "you are doing the man himself an injustice. If he is bad -enough to ill-treat his dog, he will ill-treat his wife and children. If -he is checked and punished now for his cruelty, he may reform. And even -if his wicked heart is not changed, he will be obliged to treat them -with outward kindness, through fear of punishment." - -The young man looked convinced, and almost as ashamed as if he had been -the one to crop my ears. "What do you want me to do?" he said, slowly, -and looking sheepishly at the boys who were staring open-mouthed at him -and the young girl. - -The girl pulled a little watch from her belt. "I want you to report that -man immediately. It is now five o'clock. I will go down to the police -station with you, if you like." - -"Very well," he said, his face brightening, and together they went off -to the house. - - - -CHAPTER IV THE MORRIS BOYS ADD TO MY NAME - -THE boys watched them out of sight, then one of them, whose name I -afterward learned was Jack, and who came next to Miss Laura in age, gave -a low whistle and said, "Doesn't the old lady come out strong when any -one or anything gets abused? I'll never forget the day she found me -setting Jim on that black cat of the Wilsons. She scolded me, and then -she cried, till I didn't know where to look. Plague on it, how was I -going to know he'd kill the old cat? I only wanted to drive it out of -the yard. Come on, let's look at the dog." - -They all came and bent over me, as I lay on the floor in my corner. I -wasn't much used to boys, and I didn't know how they would treat me. But -I soon found by the way they handled me and talked to me, that they knew -a good deal about dogs, and were accustomed to treat them kindly. It -seemed very strange to have them pat me, and call me "good dog." No one -had ever said that to me before to-day. - -"He's not much of a beauty, is he?" said one of the boys, whom they -called Tom. - -"Not by a long shot," said Jack Morris, with a laugh. "Not any nearer -the beauty mark than yourself, Tom." - -Tom flew at him, and they had a scuffle. The other boys paid no -attention to them, but went on looking at me. One of them, a little boy -with eyes like Miss Laura's, said, "What did Cousin Harry say the dog's -name was?" - -"Joe," answered another boy. "The little chap that carried him home told -him." - -"We might call him 'Ugly Joe' then," said a lad with a round, fat face, -and laughing eyes. I wondered very much who this boy was, and, later on, -I found out that he was another of Miss Laura's brothers, and his name -was Ned. There seemed to be no end to the Morris boys. - -"I don't think Laura would like that," said Jack Morris, suddenly coming -up behind him. He was very hot, and was breathing fast, but his manner -was as cool as if he had never left the group about me. He had beaten -Tom, who was sitting on a box, ruefully surveying a hole in his jacket. -"You see," he went on, gaspingly, "if you call him 'Ugly Joe,' her -ladyship will say that you are wounding the dear dog's feelings. -'Beautiful Joe,' would be more to her liking." - -A shout went up from the boys. I didn't wonder that they laughed. -Plain-looking I naturally was; but I must have been hideous in those -bandages. - -"'Beautiful Joe,' then let it be!" they cried, "Let us go and tell -mother, and ask her to give us something for our beauty to eat." - -They all trooped out of the stable, and I was very sorry, for when they -were with me, I did not mind so much the tingling in my ears, and the -terrible pain in my back. They soon brought me some nice food, but I -could not touch it, so they went away to their play, and I lay in the -box they put me in, trembling with pain, and wishing that the pretty -young lady was there, to stroke me with her gentle fingers. - -By-and-by it got dark. The boys finished their play, and went into the -house, and I saw lights twinkling in the windows. I felt lonely and -miserable in this strange place. I would not have gone back to Jenkins' -for the world, still it was the only home I had known, and though I felt -that I should be happy here, I had not yet gotten used to the change. -Then the pain all through my body was dreadful. My head seemed to be on -fire, and there were sharp, darting pains up and down my backbone. I -did not dare to howl, lest I should make the big dog, Jim, angry. He was -sleeping in a kennel, out in the yard. - -The stable was very quiet. Up in the loft above, some rabbits that I had -heard running about had now gone to sleep. The guinea pig was nestling -in the corner of his box, and the cat and the tame rat had scampered -into the house long ago. - -At last I could bear the pain no longer. I sat up in my box and looked -about me. I felt as if I was going to die, and, though I was very weak, -there was something inside me that made me feel as if I wanted to crawl -away somewhere out of sight. I slunk out into the yard, and along the -stable wall, where there was a thick clump of raspberry bushes. I crept -in among them and lay down in the damp earth. I tried to scratch off my -bandages, but they were fastened on too firmly, and I could not do it. -I thought about my poor mother, and wished she was here to lick my sore -ears. Though she was so unhappy herself, she never wanted to see me -suffer. If I had not disobeyed her, I would not now be suffering so much -pain. She had told me again and again not to snap at Jenkins, for it -made him worse. - -In the midst of my trouble I heard a soft voice calling, "Joe! Joe!" It -was Miss Laura's voice, but I felt as if there were weights on my paws, -and I could not go to her. - -"Joe! Joe!" she said, again. She was going up the walk to the stable, -holding up a lighted lamp in her hand. She had on a white dress, and I -watched her till she disappeared in the stable. She did not stay long in -there. She came out and stood on the gravel. "Joe, Joe, Beautiful Joe, -where are you? You are hiding somewhere, but I shall find you." Then she -came right to the spot where I was. "Poor doggie," she said, stooping -down and patting me. "Are you very miserable, and did you crawl away to -die? I have had dogs do that before, but I am not going to let you die, -Joe." And she set her lamp on the ground, and took me in her arms. - -I was very thin then, not nearly so fat as I am now, still I was quite -an armful for her. But she did not seem to find me heavy. She took me -right into the house, through the back door, and down a long flight of -steps, across a hall, and into a snug kitchen. - -"For the land sakes, Miss Laura," said a woman who was bending over a -stove, "what have you got there?" - -"A poor sick dog, Mary," said Miss Laura seating herself on a chair. -"Will you please warm a little milk for him? And have you a box or a -basket down here that he can lie in?" - -"I guess so," said the woman; "but he's awful dirty; you're not going to -let him sleep in the house, are you?" - -"Only for to-night. He is very ill. A dreadful thing happened to him, -Mary." And Miss Laura went on to tell her how my ears had been cut off. - -"Oh, that's the dog the boys were talking about," said the woman. "Poor -creature, he's welcome to all I can do for him." She opened a closet -door, and brought out a box, and folded a piece of blanket for me to lie -on. Then she heated some milk in a saucepan, and poured it in a saucer, -and watched me while Miss Laura went upstairs to get a little bottle -of something that would make me sleep. They poured a few drops of this -medicine into the milk and offered it to me. I lapped a little, but I -could not finish it, even though Miss Laura coaxed me very gently to do -so. She dipped her finger in the milk and held it out to me and though I -did not want it, I could not be ungrateful enough to refuse to lick her -finger as often as she offered it to me. After the milk was gone, Mary -lifted up my box, and carried me into the washroom that was off the -kitchen. - -I soon fell sound asleep, and could not rouse myself through the night, -even though I both smelled and heard some one coming near me several -times. The next morning I found out that it was Miss Laura. Whenever -there was a sick animal in the house, no matter if it was only the tame -rat, she would get up two or three times in the night, to see if there -was anything she could do to make it more comfortable. - - - -CHAPTER V MY NEW HOME AND A SELFISH LADY - -I DON'T believe that a dog could have fallen into a happier home than I -did. In a week, thanks to good nursing, good food, and kind words, I was -almost well. Mr. Harry washed and dressed my sore ears and tail every -day till he went home, and one day, he and the boys gave me a bath out -in the stable. They carried out a tub of warm water and stood me in it. -I had never been washed before in my life and it felt very queer. Miss -Laura stood by laughing and encouraging me not to mind the streams of -water trickling all over me. I couldn't help wondering what Jenkins -would have said if he could have seen me in that tub. - -That reminds me to say, that two days after I arrived at the Morrises', -Jack, followed by all the other boys, came running into the stable. -He had a newspaper in his hand, and with a great deal of laughing and -joking, read this to me: - -"Fairport Daily News, June 3d. In the police court this morning, James -Jenkins, for cruelly torturing and mutilating a dog, fined ten dollars -and costs." - -Then he said, "What do you think of that, Joe? Five dollars apiece for -your ears and your tail thrown in. That's all they're worth in the eyes -of the law. Jenkins has had his fun and you'll go through life worth -about three-quarters of a dog. I'd lash rascals like that. Tie them -up and flog them till they were scarred and mutilated a little bit -themselves. Just wait till I'm president. But there's some more, old -fellow. Listen: 'Our reporter visited the house of the above-mentioned -Jenkins, and found a most deplorable state of affairs. The house, yard -and stable were indescribably filthy. His horse bears the marks of -ill-usage, and is in an emaciated condition. His cows are plastered up -with mud and filth, and are covered with vermin. Where is our health -inspector, that he does not exercise a more watchful supervision over -establishments of this kind? To allow milk from an unclean place -like this to be sold in the town, is endangering the health of its -inhabitants. Upon inquiry, it was found that the man Jenkins bears a -very bad character. Steps are being taken to have his wife and children -removed from him.'" - -Jack threw the paper into my box, and he and the other boys gave three -cheers for the Daily News and then ran away. How glad I was! It did not -matter so much for me, for I had escaped him, but now that it had been -found out what a cruel man he was, there would be a restraint upon him, -and poor Toby and the cows would have a happier time. - -I was going to tell about the Morris family. There were Mr. Morris, who -was a clergyman and preached in a church in Fairport; Mrs. Morris, his -wife; Miss Laura, who was the eldest of the family; then Jack, Ned, -Carl, and Willie. I think one reason why they were such a good family -was because Mrs. Morris was such a good woman. She loved her husband and -children, and did everything she could to make them happy. - -Mr. Morris was a very busy man and rarely interfered in household -affairs. Mrs. Morris was the one who said what was to be done and what -was not to be done. Even then, when I was a young dog, I used to think -that she was very wise. There was never any noise or confusion in the -house, and though there was a great deal of work to be done, everything -went on smoothly and pleasantly, and no one ever got angry and scolded -as they did in the Jenkins family. - -Mrs. Morris was very particular about money matters. Whenever the -boys came to her for money to get such things as candy and ice cream, -expensive toys, and other things that boys often crave, she asked them -why they wanted them. If it was for some selfish reason, she said, -firmly: "No, my children; we are not rich people, and we must save our -money for your education. I cannot buy you foolish things." - -If they asked her for money for books or something to make their pet -animals more comfortable, or for their outdoor games, she gave it to -them willingly. Her ideas about the bringing up of children I cannot -explain as clearly as she can herself, so I will give part of a -conversation that she had with a lady who was calling on her shortly -after I came to Washington Street. - -I happened to be in the house at the time. Indeed, I used to spend the -greater part of my time in the house. Jack one day looked at me, and -exclaimed: "Why does that dog stalk about, first after one and then -after another, looking at us with such solemn eyes?" - -I wished that I could speak to tell him that I had so long been used to -seeing animals kicked about and trodden upon, that I could not get used -to the change. It seemed too good to be true. I could scarcely believe -that dumb animals had rights; but while it lasted, and human beings -were so kind to me, I wanted to be with them all the time. Miss Laura -understood. She drew my head up to her lap, and put her face down to me: -"You like to be with us, don't you, Joe? Stay in the house as much as -you like. Jack doesn't mind, though he speaks so sharply. When you get -tired of us go out in the garden and have a romp with Jim." - -But I must return to the conversation I referred to. It was one fine -June day, and Mrs. Morris was sewing in a rocking-chair by the window. I -was beside her, sitting on a hassock, so that I could look out into the -street. Dogs love variety and excitement, and like to see what is going -on outdoors as well as human beings. A carriage drove up to the door, -and a finely-dressed lady got out and came up the steps. - -Mrs. Morris seemed glad to see her, and called her Mrs. Montague. I -was pleased with her, for she had some kind of perfume about her that I -liked to smell. So I went and sat on the hearth rug quite near her. - -They had a little talk about things I did not understand and then the -lady's eyes fell on me. She looked at me through a bit of glass that was -hanging by a chain from her neck, and pulled away her beautiful dress -lest I should touch it. - -I did not care any longer for the perfume, and went away and sat very -straight and stiff at Mrs. Morris' feet. The lady's eyes still followed -me. - -"I beg your pardon, Mrs. Morris," she said, "but that is a very -queer-looking dog you have there." - -"Yes," said Mrs. Morris, quietly; "he is not a handsome dog." - -"And he is a new one, isn't he?" said Mrs. Montague. - -"Yes." - -"And that makes." - -"Two dogs, a cat, fifteen or twenty rabbits, a rat, about a dozen -canaries, and two dozen goldfish, I don't know how many pigeons, a few -bantams, a guinea pig, and well, I don't think there is anything more." - -They both laughed, and Mrs. Montague said: "You have quite a menagerie. -My father would never allow one of his children to keep a pet animal. -He said it would make his girls rough and noisy to romp about the house -with cats, and his boys would look like rowdies if they went about with -dogs at their heels." - -"I have never found that it made my children more rough to play with -their pets," said Mrs. Morris. - -"No, I should think not," said the lady, languidly. "Your boys are the -most gentlemanly lads in Fairport, and as for Laura, she is a perfect -little lady. I like so much to have them come and see Charlie. They wake -him up, and yet don't make him naughty." - -"They enjoyed their last visit very much," said Mrs. Morris. "By the -way, I have heard them talking about getting Charlie a dog." - -"Oh!" cried the lady, with a little shudder, "beg them not to. I cannot -sanction that. I hate dogs." - -"Why do you hate them?" asked Mrs. Morris gently. - -"They are such dirty things; they always smell and have vermin on them." - -"A dog," said Mrs. Morris, "is something like a child. If you want it -clean and pleasant, you have got to keep it so. This dog's skin is as -clean as yours or mine. Hold still, Joe," and she brushed the hair on my -back the wrong way, and showed Mrs. Montague how pink and free from dust -my skin was. - -Mrs. Montague looked at me more kindly, and even held out the tips of -her fingers to me. I did not lick them. I only smelled them, and she -drew her hand back again. - -"You have never been brought in contact with the lower creation as I -have," said Mrs. Morris; "just let me tell you, in a few words, what a -help dumb animals have been to me in the up-bringing of my children -my boys, especially. When I was a young married woman, going about the -slums of New York with my husband, I used to come home and look at my -two babies as they lay in their little cots, and say to him, 'What are -we going to do to keep these children from selfishness the curse of the -world?' - -"'Get them to do something for somebody outside themselves,' he always -said. And I have tried to act on that principle. Laura is naturally -unselfish. With her tiny, baby fingers, she would take food from her own -mouth and put it into Jack's, if we did not watch her. I have never -had any trouble with her. But the boys were born selfish, tiresomely, -disgustingly selfish. They were good boys in many ways. As they grew -older they were respectful, obedient, they were not untidy, and not -particularly rough, but their one thought was for themselves each one -for himself, and they used to quarrel with each other in regard to their -rights. While we were in New York, we had only a small, back yard. When -we came here, I said, 'I am going to try an experiment.' We got this -house because it had a large garden, and a stable that would do for -the boys to play in. Then I got them together, and had a little serious -talk. I said I was not pleased with the way in which they were living. -They did nothing for any one but themselves from morning to night. If I -asked them to do an errand for me, it was done unwillingly. Of course, -I knew they had their school for a part of the day, but they had a good -deal of leisure time when they might do something for some one else. I -asked them if they thought they were going to make real, manly Christian -boys at this rate, and they said no. Then I asked them what we should do -about it. They all said, 'You tell us mother, and we'll do as you say.' -I proposed a series of tasks. Each one to do something for somebody, -outside and apart from himself, every day of his life. They all agreed -to this, and told me to allot the tasks. If I could have afforded it, I -would have gotten a horse and cow, and had them take charge of them; but -I could not do that, so I invested in a pair of rabbits for Jack, a pair -of canaries for Carl, pigeons for Ned, and bantams for Willie. I brought -these creatures home, put them into their hands, and told them to -provide for them. They were delighted with my choice, and it was very -amusing to see them scurrying about to provide food and shelter for -their pets, and hear their consultations with other boys. The end of it -all is, that I am perfectly satisfied with my experiment. My boys, in -caring for these dumb creatures, have become unselfish and thoughtful. -They had rather go to school without their own breakfast than have the -inmates of the stable go hungry. They are getting a humane education, a -heart education, added to the intellectual education of their schools. -Then it keeps them at home. I used to be worried with the lingering -about street corners, the dawdling around with other boys, and the idle, -often worse than idle, talk indulged in. Now they have something to -do, they are men of business. They are always hammering and pounding -at boxes and partitions out there in the stable, or cleaning up, and if -they are sent out on an errand, they do it and come right home. I don't -mean to say that we have deprived them of liberty. They have their days -for base-ball, and foot-ball, and excursions to the woods, but they have -so much to do at home, that they won't go away unless for a specific -purpose." - -While Mrs. Morris was talking, her visitor leaned forward in her -chair, and listened attentively. When she finished, Mrs. Montague -said, quietly, "Thank you, I am glad that you told me this. I shall get -Charlie a dog." - -"I am glad to hear you say that," replied Mrs. Morris. "It will be a -good thing for your little boy. I should not wish my boys to be without -a good, faithful dog. A child can learn many a lesson from a dog. This -one," pointing to me, "might be held up as an example to many a human -being. He is patient, quiet, and obedient. My husband says that he -reminds him of three words in the Bible 'through much tribulation.'" - -"Why does he say that?" asked Mrs. Montague, curiously. - -"Because he came to us from a very unhappy home." And Mrs. Morris went -on to tell her friend what she knew of my early days. - -When she stopped, Mrs. Montague's face was shocked and pained. "How -dreadful to think that there are such creatures as that man Jenkins in -the world. And you say that he has a wife and children. Mrs. Morris, -tell me plainly, are there many such unhappy homes in Fairport?" - -Mrs. Morris hesitated for a minute, then she said, earnestly: "My dear -friend, if you could see all the wickedness, and cruelty, and vileness, -that is practiced in this little town of ours in one night, you could -not rest in your bed." - -Mrs. Montague looked dazed. "I did not dream that it was as bad as -that," she said. "Are we worse than other towns?" - -"No; not worse, but bad enough. Over and over again the saying is true, -one-half the world does not know how the other half lives. How can all -this misery touch you? You live in your lovely house out of the town. -When you come in, you drive about, do your shopping, make calls, and go -home again. You never visit the poorest streets. The people from them -never come to you. You are rich, your people before you were rich, you -live in a state of isolation." - -"But that is not right," said the lady in a wailing voice. "I have been -thinking about this matter lately. I read a great deal in the papers -about the misery of the lower classes, and I think we richer ones ought -to do something to help them. Mrs. Morris, what can I do?" - -The tears came in Mrs. Morris' eyes. She looked at the little, frail -lady, and said, simply: "Dear Mrs. Montague, I think the root of the -whole matter lies in this. The Lord made us all one family. We are all -brothers and sisters. The lowest woman is your sister and my sister. The -man lying in the gutter is our brother What should we do to help these -members of our common family, who are not as well off as we are? We -should share our last crust with them. You and I, but for God's grace in -placing us in different surroundings, might be in their places. I think -it is wicked neglect, criminal neglect in us to ignore this fact." - -"It is, it is," said Mrs. Montague, in a despairing voice. "I can't help -feeling it. Tell me something I can do to help some one." - -Mrs. Morris sank back in her chair, her face very sad, and yet with -something like pleasure in her eyes as she looked at her caller. "Your -washerwoman," she said, "has a drunken husband and a cripple boy. I have -often seen her standing over her tub, washing your delicate muslins and -laces, and dropping tears into the water." - -"I will never send her anything more she shall not be troubled," said -Mrs. Montague, hastily. - -Mrs. Morris could not help smiling. "I have not made myself clear. It is -not the washing that troubles her; it is her husband who beats her, and -her boy who worries her. If you and I take our work from her, she -will have that much less money to depend upon, and will suffer in -consequence, She is a hard-working and capable woman, and makes a fair -living. I would not advise you to give her money, for her husband would -find it out, and take it from her. It is sympathy that she wants. If you -could visit her occasionally, and show that you are interested in -her, by talking or reading to her poor foolish boy or showing him a -picture-book, you have no idea how grateful she would be to you, and how -it would cheer her on her dreary way." - -"I will go to see her to-morrow," said Mrs. Montague. "Can you think of -any one else I could visit?" - -"A great many," said Mrs. Morris; "but I don't think you had better -undertake too much at once. I will give you the addresses of three or -four poor families, where an occasional visit would do untold good. -That is, it will do them good if you treat them as you do your richer -friends. Don't give them too much money, or too many presents, till you -find out what they need. Try to feel interested in them. Find out their -ways of living, and what they are going to do with their children, and -help them to get situations for them if you can. And be sure to remember -that poverty does not always take away one's self-respect." - -"I will, I will," said Mrs. Montague, eagerly. "When can you give me -these addresses?" - -Mrs. Morris smiled again, and, taking a piece of paper and a pencil from -her work basket wrote a few lines and handed them to Mrs. Montague. - -The lady got up to take her leave. "And in regard to the dog," said Mrs. -Morris, following her to the door, "if you decide to allow Charlie to -have one, you had better let him come in and have a talk with my boys -about it. They seem to know all the dogs that are for sale in the town." - -"Thank you; I shall be most happy to do so. He shall have his dog. When -can you have him?" - -"To-morrow, the next day, any day at all. It makes no difference to -me. Let him spend an afternoon and evening with the boys, if you do not -object." - -"It will give me much pleasure," and the little lady bowed and smiled, -and after stooping down to pat me, tripped down the steps, and got into -her carriage and drove away. - -Mrs. Morris stood looking after her with a beaming face, and I began to -think that I should like Mrs. Montague, too, if I knew her long enough. -Two days later I was quite sure I should, for I had a proof that she -really liked me. When her little boy Charlie came to the house, he -brought something for me done up in white paper. Mrs. Morris opened -it, and there was a handsome nickel-plated collar, with my name on it -Beautiful Joe. Wasn't I pleased! They took off the little shabby leather -strap that the boys had given me when I came, and fastened on my new -collar and then Mrs. Morris held me up to a glass to look at myself. I -felt so happy. Up to this time I had felt a little ashamed of my cropped -ears and docked tail, but now that I had a fine new collar I could hold -up my head with any dog. - -"Dear old Joe," said Mrs. Morris, pressing my head tightly between her -hands. "You did a good thing the other day in helping me to start that -little woman out of her selfish way of living." - -I did not know about that, but I knew that I felt very grateful to Mrs. -Montague for my new collar, and ever afterward, when I met her in the -street, I stopped and looked at her. Sometimes she saw me and stopped -her carriage to speak to me; but I always wagged my tail, or rather my -body, for I had no tail to wag, whenever I saw her, whether she saw me -or not. - -Her son got a beautiful Irish setter, called "Brisk." He had a silky -coat and soft brown eyes, and his young master seemed very fond of him. - - - -CHAPTER VI THE FOX TERRIER BILLY - -WHEN I came to the Morrises, I knew nothing about the proper way of -bringing up a puppy. I once heard of a little boy whose sister beat him -so much that he said he was brought up by hand; so I think as Jenkins -kicked me so much, I may say that I was brought up by foot. - -Shortly after my arrival in my new home, I had a chance of seeing how -one should bring up a little puppy. - -One day I was sitting beside Miss Laura in the parlor, when the door -opened and Jack came in. One of his hands was laid over the other, and -he said to his sister, "Guess what I've got here." - -"A bird," she said. - -"No." - -"A rat." - -"No." - -"A mouse." - -"No a pup." - -"Oh, Jack," she said, reprovingly; for she thought he was telling a -story. - -He opened his hands and there lay the tiniest morsel of a fox terrier -puppy that I ever saw. He was white, with black and tan markings. His -body was pure white, his tail black, with a dash of tan; his ears black, -and his face evenly marked with black and tan. We could not tell the -color of his eyes, as they were not open. Later on, they turned out to -be a pretty brown. His nose was pale pink, and when he got older, it -became jet black. - -"Why, Jack!" exclaimed Miss Laura, "his eyes aren't open; why did you -take him from his mother?" - -"She's dead," said Jack. "Poisoned left her pups to run about the yard -for a little exercise. Some brute had thrown over a piece of poisoned -meat, and she ate it. Four of the pups died. This is the only one left. -Mr. Robinson says his man doesn't understand raising pups without their -mothers, and as he is going away, he wants us to have it, for we always -had such luck in nursing sick animals." - -Mr. Robinson I knew was a friend of the Morrises and a gentleman who was -fond of fancy stock, and imported a great deal of it from England. If -this puppy came from him, it was sure to be good one. - -Miss Laura took the tiny creature, and went upstairs very thoughtfully. -I followed her, and watched her get a little basket and line it with -cotton wool. She put the puppy in it and looked at him. Though it was -midsummer and the house seemed very warm to me, the little creature was -shivering, and making a low murmuring noise. She pulled the wool all -over him and put the window down, and set his basket in the sun. - -Then she went to the kitchen and got some warm milk. She dipped her -finger in it, and offered it to the puppy, but he went nosing about it -in a stupid way, and wouldn't touch it. "Too young," Miss Laura said. -She got a little piece of muslin, put some bread in it, tied a string -round it, and dipped it in the milk. When she put this to the puppy's -mouth, he sucked it greedily. He acted as if he was starving, but Miss -Laura only let him have a little. - -Every few hours for the rest of the day, she gave him some more milk, -and I heard the boys say that for many nights she got up once or twice -and heated milk over a lamp for him. One night the milk got cold before -he took it, and he swelled up and became so ill that Miss Laura had to -rouse her mother and get some hot water to plunge him in. That made him -well again, and no one seemed to think it was a great deal of trouble to -take for a creature that was nothing but a dog. - -He fully repaid them for all his care, for he turned out to be one of -the prettiest and most lovable dogs that I ever saw. They called him -Billy, and the two events of his early life were the opening of his eyes -and the swallowing of his muslin rag. The rag did not seem to hurt him, -but Miss Laura said that, as he had got so strong and greedy, he must -learn to eat like other dogs. - -He was very amusing when he was a puppy. He was full of tricks, and he -crept about in a mischievous way when one did not know he was near. -He was a very small puppy and used to climb inside Miss Laura's Jersey -sleeve up to her shoulder when he was six weeks old. One day, when the -whole family was in the parlor, Mr. Morris suddenly flung aside his -newspaper, and began jumping up and down. Mrs. Morris was very much -alarmed, and cried out, "My dear William what is the matter?" - -"There's a rat up my leg," he said, shaking it violently. Just then -little Billy fell out on the floor and lay on his back looking up at Mr. -Morris with a surprised face. He had felt cold and thought it would be -warm inside Mr. Morris' trouser's leg. - -However, Billy never did any real mischief, thanks to Miss Laura's -training. She began to punish him just as soon as he began to tear and -worry things. The first thing he attacked was Mr. Morris' felt hat. The -wind blew it down the hall one day, and Billy came along and began to -try it with his teeth. I dare say it felt good to them, for a puppy is -very like a baby and loves something to bite. - -Miss Laura found him, and he rolled his eyes at her quite innocently, -not knowing that he was doing wrong. She took the hat away, and pointing -from it to him, said, "Bad Billy!" Then she gave him two or three slaps -with a bootlace. She never struck a little dog with her hand or a stick. -She said clubs were for big dogs and switches for little dogs, if one -had to use them. The best way was to scold them, for a good dog feels a -severe scolding as much as a whipping. - -Billy was very much ashamed of himself. Nothing would induce him even -to look at a hat again. But he thought it was no harm to worry other -things. He attacked one thing after another, the rugs on the floor, -curtains, anything flying or fluttering, and Miss Laura patiently -scolded him for each one, till at last it dawned upon him that he must -not worry anything but a bone. Then he got to be a very good dog. - -There was one thing that Miss Laura was very particular about, and that -was to have him fed regularly. We both got three meals a day. We were -never allowed to go into the dining room, and while the family was at -the table, we lay in the hall outside and watched what was going on. - -Dogs take a great interest in what any one gets to eat. It was quite -exciting to see the Morrises' passing each other different dishes, and -to smell the nice, hot food. Billy often wished that he could get up on -the table. He said that he would make things fly. When he was growing, -he hardly ever got enough to eat. I used to tell him that he would kill -himself if he could eat all he wanted to. - -As soon as meals were over, Billy and I scampered after Miss Laura to -the kitchen. We each had our own plate for food. Mary the cook often -laughed at Miss Laura, because she would not let her dogs "dish" -together. Miss Laura said that if she did, the larger one would get more -than his share, and the little one would starve. - -It was quite a sight to see Billy eat. He spread his legs apart to -steady himself, and gobbled at his food like a duck. When he finished he -always looked up for more, and Miss Laura would shake her head and say: -"No, Billy: better longing than loathing. I believe that a great many -little dogs are killed by overfeeding." - -I often heard the Morrises speak of the foolish way in which some people -stuffed their pets with food, and either kill them by it or keep them -in continual ill health. A case occurred in our neighborhood while Billy -was a puppy. Some people, called Dobson, who lived only a few doors from -the Morrises, had a fine bay mare and a little colt called Sam. They -were very proud of this colt, and Mr. Dobson had promised it to his son -James. One day Mr. Dobson asked Mr. Morris to come in and see the colt, -and I went, too. I watched Mr. Morris while he examined it. It was a -pretty little creature, and I did not wonder that they thought so much -of it. - -When Mr. Morris went home his wife asked him what he thought of it. - -"I think," he said, "that it won't live long." - -"Why, papa!" exclaimed Jack, who overheard the remark, "it is as fat as -a seal." - -"It would have a better chance for its life if it were lean and -scrawny," said Mr. Morris. "They are over-feeding it, and I told Mr. -Dobson so; but he wasn't inclined to believe me." - -Now, Mr. Morris had been brought up in the country, and knew a great -deal about animals, so I was inclined to think he was right. And sure -enough, in a few days, we heard that the colt was dead. - -Poor James Dobson felt very badly. A number of the neighbors' boys went -into see him, and there he stood gazing at the dead colt, and looking as -if he wanted to cry. Jack was there and I was at his heels, and though -he said nothing for a time, I knew he was angry with the Dobsons for -sacrificing the colt's life. Presently he said, "You won't need to have -that colt stuffed now he's dead, Dobson." - -"What do you mean? Why do you say that?" asked the boy, peevishly. - -"Because you stuffed him while he was alive," said Jack, saucily. - -Then we had to run for all we were worth, for the Dobson boy was after -us, and as he was a big fellow he would have whipped Jack soundly. - -I must not forget to say that Billy was washed regularly once a -week with nice-smelling soaps and once a month with strong-smelling, -disagreeable, carbolic soap. He had his own towels and wash cloths, and -after being rubbed and scrubbed, he was rolled in a blanket and put by -the fire to dry. Miss Laura said that a little dog that has been petted -and kept in the house, and has become tender, should never be washed and -allowed to run about with a wet coat, unless the weather was very warm, -for he would be sure to take cold. - -Jim and I were more hardy than Billy, and we took our baths in the sea. -Every few days the boys took us down to the shore and we went swimming -with them. - - - -CHAPTER VII TRAINING A PUPPY - -"NED, dear," said Miss Laura one day, "I wish you would train Billy to -follow and retrieve. He is four months old now, and I shall soon want to -take him out in the street." - -"Very well, sister," said mischievous Ned, and catching up a stick, he -said, "Come out into the garden, dogs." - -Though he was brandishing his stick very fiercely, I was not at all -afraid of him; and as for Billy, he loved Ned. - -The Morris garden was really not a garden but a large piece of ground -with the grass worn bare in many places, a few trees scattered about, -and some raspberry and currant bushes along the fence. A lady who -knew that Mr. Morris had not a large salary, said one day when she was -looking out of the dining-room window, "My dear Mrs. Morris, why don't -you have this garden dug up? You could raise your own vegetables. It -would be so much cheaper than buying them." - -Mrs. Morris laughed in great amusement. "Think of the hens, and cats, -and dogs, and rabbits, and, above all, the boys that I have. What sort -of a garden would there be, and do you think it would be fair to take -their playground from them?" - -The lady said, "No, she did not think it would be fair." - -I am sure I don't know what the boys would have done without this strip -of ground. Many a frolic and game they had there. In the present case, -Ned walked around and around it, with his stick on his shoulder, Billy -and I strolling after him. Presently Billy made a dash aside to get a -bone. Ned turned around and said firmly, "To heel!" - -Billy looked at him innocently, not knowing what he meant. "To heel!" -exclaimed Ned again. Billy thought he wanted to play, and putting his -head on his paws, he began to bark. Ned laughed; still he kept saying -"To heel!" He would not say another word. He knew if he said "Come -here," or "Follow," or "Go behind," it would confuse Billy. - -Finally, as Ned kept saying the words over and over, and pointing to -me, it seemed to dawn upon Billy that he wanted him to follow him. So -he came beside me, and together we followed Ned around the garden, again -and again. - -Ned often looked behind with a pleased face, and I felt so proud to -think I was doing well, but suddenly I got dreadfully confused when he -turned around and said, "Hie out!" - -The Morrises all used the same words in training their dogs, and I had -heard Miss Laura say this, but I had forgotten what it meant. "Good -Joe," said Ned, turning around and patting me, "you have forgotten. I -wonder where Jim is? He would help us." - -He put his fingers in his mouth and blew a shrill whistle, and soon -Jim came trotting up the lane from the street. He looked at us with -his large, intelligent eyes, and wagged his tail slowly, as if to say, -"Well, what do you want of me?" - -"Come and give me a hand at this training business, old Sobersides," -said Ned, with a laugh. "It's too slow to do it alone. Now, young -gentlemen, attention! To heel!" He began to march around the garden -again, and Jim and I followed closely at his heels, while little Billy, -seeing that he could not get us to play with him, came lagging behind. - -Soon Ned turned around and said, "Hie out!" Old Jim sprang ahead, and -ran off in front as if he was after something. Now I remembered what -"hie out" meant. We were to have a lovely race wherever we liked. Little -Billy loved this. We ran and scampered hither and thither, and Ned -watched us, laughing at our antics. - -After tea, he called us out in the garden again, and said he had -something else to teach us. He turned up a tub on the wooden platform at -the back door, and sat on it, and then called Jim to him. - -He took a small leather strap from his pocket. It had a nice, strong -smell. We all licked it, and each dog wished to have it. "No, Joe and -Billy," said Ned, holding us both by our collars; "you wait a minute. -Here, Jim." - -Jim watched him very earnestly, and Ned threw the strap half-way across -the garden, and said, "Fetch it." - -Jim never moved till he heard the words, "Fetch it." Then he ran -swiftly, brought the strap, and dropped it in Ned's hand. Ned sent him -after it two or three times, then he said to Jim, "Lie down," and turned -to me. "Here, Joe; it is your turn." - -He threw the strap under the raspberry bushes, then looked at me and -said, "Fetch it." I knew quite well what he meant, and ran joyfully -after it. I soon found it by the strong smell, but the queerest thing -happened when I got it in my mouth. I began to gnaw it and play with it, -and when Ned called out, "fetch it," I dropped it and ran toward him. I -was not obstinate, but I was stupid. - -Ned pointed to the place where it was, and spread out his empty hands. -That helped me, and I ran quickly and got it. He made me get it for him -several times. Sometimes I could not find it, and sometimes I dropped -it; but he never stirred. He sat still till I brought it to him. - -After a while he tried Billy, but it soon got dark, and we could not -see, so he took Billy and went into the house. - -I stayed out with Jim for a while, and he asked me if I knew why Ned had -thrown a strap for us, instead of a bone or something hard. - -Of course I did not know, so Jim told me it was on his account. He was -a bird dog, and was never allowed to carry anything hard in his mouth, -because it would make him hard-mouthed, and he would be apt to bite the -birds when he was bringing them back to any person who was shooting with -him. He said that he had been so carefully trained that he could even -carry three eggs at a time in his mouth. - -I said to him, "Jim, how is it that you never go out shooting? I have -always heard that you were a dog for that, and yet you never leave -home." - -He hung his head a little, and said he did not wish to go, and then, for -he was an honest dog, he gave me the true reason. - - - -CHAPTER VIII A RUINED DOG - -"I WAS a sporting dog," he said, bitterly, "for the first three years of -my life. I belonged to a man who keeps a livery stable here in Fairport, -and he used to hire me out shooting parties. - -"I was a favorite with all the gentlemen. I was crazy with delight when -I saw the guns brought out, and would jump up and bite at them. I loved -to chase birds and rabbits, and even now when the pigeons come near me, -I tremble all over and have to turn away lest I should seize them. I -used often to be in the woods from morning till night. I liked to have -a hard search after a bird after it had been shot, and to be praised for -bringing it out without biting or injuring it. - -"I never got lost, for I am one of those dogs that can always tell where -human beings are. I did not smell them. I would be too far away for -that, but if my master was standing in some place and I took a long -round through the woods, I knew exactly where he was, and could make a -short cut back to him without returning in my tracks. - -"But I must tell you about my trouble. One Saturday afternoon a party -of young men came to get me. They had a dog with them, a cocker spaniel -called Bob, but they wanted another. For some reason or other, my master -was very unwilling to have me go. However, he at last consented, and -they put me in the back of the wagon with Bob and the lunch baskets, and -we drove off into the country. This Bob was a happy, merry-looking dog, -and as we went along, he told me of the fine time we should have next -day. The young men would shoot a little, then they would get out their -baskets and have something to eat and drink, and would play cards and go -to sleep under the trees, and we would be able to help ourselves to legs -and wings of chickens, and anything we liked from the baskets. - -"I did not like this at all. I was used to working hard through the -week, and I liked to spend my Sundays quietly at home. However, I said -nothing. - -"That night we slept at a country hotel, and drove the next morning to -the banks of a small lake where the young men were told there would be -plenty of wild ducks. They were in no hurry to begin their sport. They -sat down in the sun on some flat rocks at the water's edge, and said -they would have something to drink before setting to work. They got out -some of the bottles from the wagon, and began to take long drinks from -them. Then they got quarrelsome and mischievous and seemed to forget -all about their shooting. One of them proposed to have some fun with the -dogs. They tied us both to a tree, and throwing a stick in the water, -told us to get it. Of course we struggled and tried to get free, and -chafed our necks with the rope. - -"After a time one of them began to swear at me, and say that he believed -I was gun-shy. He staggered to the wagon and got out his fowling piece, -and said he was going to try me. - -"He loaded it, went to a little distance, and was going to fire, when -the young man who owned Bob said he wasn't going to have his dog's legs -shot off, and coming up he unfastened him and took him away. You can -imagine my feelings, as I stood there tied to the tree, with that -stranger pointing his gun directly at me. He fired close to me, a number -of times over my head and under my body. The earth was cut up all around -me. I was terribly frightened, and howled and begged to be freed. - -"The other young men, who were sitting laughing at me, thought it such -good fun that they got their guns, too. I never wish to spend such a -terrible hour again. I was sure they would kill me. I dare say they -would have done so, for they were all quite drunk by this time, if -something had not happened. - -"Poor Bob, who was almost as frightened as I was, and who lay shivering -under the wagon, was killed by a shot by his own master, whose hand was -the most unsteady of all. He gave one loud howl, kicked convulsively, -then turned over on his side and lay quite still. It sobered them all. -They ran up to him, but he was quite dead. They sat for a while quite -silent, then they threw the rest of the bottles into the lake, dug a -shallow grave for Bob, and putting me in the wagon drove slowly back to -town. They were not bad young men. I don't think they meant to hurt me, -or to kill Bob. It was the nasty stuff in the bottles that took away -their reason. - -"I was never the same dog again. I was quite deaf in my right ear, and -though I strove against it, I was so terribly afraid of even the sight -of a gun that I would run and hide myself whenever one was shown to me. -My master was very angry with those young men, and it seemed as if -he could not bear the sight of me. One day he took me very kindly and -brought me here, and asked Mr. Morris if he did not want a good-natured -dog to play with the children. - -"I have a happy home here and I love the Morris boys; but I often wish -that I could keep from putting my tail between my legs and running home -every time I hear the sound of a gun." - -"Never mind that, Jim," I said. "You should not fret over a thing for -which you are not to blame. I am sure you must be glad for one reason -that you have left your old life." - -"What is that?" he said. - -"On account of the birds. You know Miss Laura thinks it is wrong to kill -the pretty creatures that fly about the woods." - -"So it is," he said, "unless one kills them at once. I have often felt -angry with men for only half killing a bird. I hated to pick up the -little warm body, and see the bright eye looking so reproachfully at me, -and feel the flutter of life. We animals, or rather the most of us, kill -mercifully. It is only human beings who butcher their prey, and seem, -some of them, to rejoice in their agony. I used to be eager to kill -birds and rabbits, but I did not want to keep them before me long after -they were dead. I often stop in the street and look up at fine ladies' -bonnets, and wonder how they can wear little dead birds in such dreadful -positions. Some of them have their heads twisted under their wings and -over their shoulders, and looking toward their tails, and their eyes are -so horrible that I wish I could take those ladies into the woods and let -them see how easy and pretty a live bird is, and how unlike the stuffed -creatures they wear. Have you ever had a good run in the woods, Joe?" - -"No, never," I said. - -"Some day I will take you, and now it is late and I must go to bed. Are -you going to sleep in the kennel with me, or in the stable?" - -"I think I will sleep with you, Jim. Dogs like company, you know, as -well as human beings." I curled up in the straw beside him and soon we -were fast asleep. - -I have known a good many dogs, but I don't think I ever saw such a good -one as Jim. He was gentle and kind, and so sensitive that a hard word -hurt him more than a blow. He was a great pet with Mrs. Morris, and as -he had been so well trained, he was able to make himself very useful to -her. - -When she went shopping, he often carried a parcel in his mouth for her. -He would never drop it nor leave it anywhere. One day, she dropped her -purse without knowing it, and Jim picked it up, and brought it home in -his mouth. She did not notice him, for he always walked behind her. When -she got to her own door, she missed the purse, and turning around saw it -in Jim's mouth. - -Another day, a lady gave Jack Morris a canary cage as a present for -Carl. He was bringing it home, when one of the little seed boxes fell -out. Jim picked it up and carried it a long way, before Jack discovered -it. - - - -CHAPTER IX THE PARROT BELLA - -I OFTEN used to hear the Morrises speak about vessels that ran between -Fairport and a place called the West Indies, carrying cargoes of lumber -and fish, and bringing home molasses, spices, fruit, and other things. -On one of these vessels, called the "Mary Jane," was a cabin boy, who -was a. friend of the Morris boys, and often brought them presents. - -One day, after I had been with the Morrises' for some months, this boy -arrived at the house with a bunch of green bananas in one hand, and a -parrot in the other. The boys were delighted with the parrot, and called -their mother to see what a pretty bird she was. - -Mrs. Morris seemed very much touched by the boy's thoughtfulness in -bringing a present such a long distance to her boys, and thanked him -warmly. The cabin boy became very shy and all he could say was, "Go -way!" over and over again, in a very awkward manner. - -Mrs. Morris smiled, and left him with the boys. I think that she thought -he would be more comfortable with them. - -Jack put me up on the table to look at the parrot. The boy held her by a -string tied around one of her legs. She was a gray parrot with a few red -feathers in her tail, and she had bright eyes, and a very knowing air. - -The boy said he had been careful to buy a young one that could not -speak, for he knew the Morris boys would not want one chattering foreign -gibberish, nor yet one that would swear. He had kept her in his bunk in -the ship, and had spent all his leisure time in teaching her to talk. -Then he looked at her anxiously, and said, "Show off now, can't ye?" - -I didn't know what he meant by all this, until afterward. I had never -heard of such a thing as birds talking. I stood on the table staring -hard at her, and she stared hard at me. I was just thinking that I would -not like to have her sharp little beak fastened in my skin, when I heard -some one say, "Beautiful Joe." The voice seemed to come from the room, -but I knew all the voices there, and this was one I had never heard -before, so I thought I must be mistaken, and it was some one in the -hall. I struggled to get away from Jack to run and see who it was. But -he held me fast, and laughed with all his might. I looked at the other -boys and they were laughing, too. Presently, I heard again, "Beautiful -Joe, Beautiful Joe." The sound was close by, and yet it did not come -from the cabin boy, for he was all doubled up laughing, his face as red -as a beet. - -"It's the parrot, Joe!" cried Ned. "Look at her, you gaby." I did look -at her, and with her head on one side, and the sauciest air in the -world, she was saying: "Beau-ti-ful Joe, Beau-ti-ful Joe!" - -I had never heard a bird talk before, and I felt so sheepish that I -tried to get down and hide myself under the table. Then she began to -laugh at me. "Ha, ha, ha, good dog sic 'em, boy. Rats, rats! Beau-ti-ful -Joe, Beau-ti-ful Joe," she cried, rattling off the words as fast as she -could. - -I never felt so queer before in my life, and the boys were just roaring -with delight at my puzzled face. Then the parrot began calling for Jim. -"Where's Jim, where's good old Jim? Poor old dog. Give him a bone." - -The boys brought Jim in the parlor, and when he heard her funny, little, -cracked voice calling him, he nearly went crazy: "Jimmy, Jimmy, James -Augustus!" she said, which was Jim's long name. - -He made a dash out of the room, and the boys screamed so that Mr. Morris -came down from his study to see what the noise meant. As soon as the -parrot saw him, she would not utter another word. The boys told him -though what she had been saying, and he seemed much amused to think that -the cabin boy should have remembered so many sayings his boys made use -of, and taught them to the parrot. "Clever Polly," he said, kindly; -"good Polly." - -The cabin boy looked at him shyly, and Jack, who was a very sharp boy, -said quickly, "Is not that what you call her, Henry?" - -"No," said the boy; "I call her Bell, short for Bellzebub." - -"I beg your pardon," said Jack, very politely. - -"Bell short for Bellzebub," repeated the boy. "Ye see, I thought ye'd -like a name from the Bible, bein' a minister's sons. I hadn't my Bible -with me on this cruise, savin' yer presences an' I couldn't think of any -girls' names out of it: but Eve or Queen of Sheba, an' they didn't -seem very fit, so I asked one of me mates, an' he says, for his part he -guessed Bellzebub was as pretty a girl's name as any, so I guv her that. -'Twould 'a been better to let you name her, but ye see 'twouldn't 'a -been handy not to call her somethin', where I was teachin' her every -day." - -Jack turned away and walked to the window, his face a deep scarlet. I -heard him mutter, "Beelzebub, prince of devils," so I suppose the cabin -boy had given his bird a bad name. - -Mr. Morris looked kindly at the cabin boy "Do you ever call the parrot -by her whole name?" - -"No, sir," he replied; "I always give her Bell but she calls herself -Bella." - -"Bella," repeated Mr. Morris, "that is a very pretty name. If you keep -her, boys, I think you had better stick to that." - -"Yes, father," they all said; and then Mr. Morris started to go back to -his study. On the doorsill he paused to ask the cabin boy when his -ship sailed. Finding that it was to be in a few days, he took out his -pocket-book and wrote something in it. The next day he asked Jack to go -to town with him, and when they came home, Jack said that his father had -bought an oil-skin coat for Henry Smith, and a handsome Bible, in which -they were all to write their names. - -After Mr. Morris left the room, the door opened and Miss Laura came in. -She knew nothing about the parrot and was very much surprised to see it. -Seating herself at the table, she held out her hands to it. She was so -fond of pets of all kinds, that she never thought of being afraid of -them. At the same time, she never laid her hand suddenly on any animal. -She held out her fingers and talked gently, so that if it wished to come -to her it could. She looked at the parrot as if she loved it, and the -queer little thing walked right up and nestled its head against the -lace in the front of her dress. "Pretty lady," she said, in a cracked -whisper, "give Bella a kiss." - -The boys were so pleased with this and set up such a shout, that their -mother came into the room and said they had better take the parrot -out to the stable. Bella seem to enjoy the fun. "Come on, boys," she -screamed, as Henry Smith lifted her on his finger. "Ha, ha, ha come -on, let's have some fun. Where's the guinea pig? Where's Davy, the -rat? Where's pussy? Pussy, pussy, come here. Pussy, pussy, dear, pretty -puss." - -Her voice was shrill and distinct, and very like the voice of an old -woman who came to the house for rags and bones. I followed her out to -the stable, and stayed there until she noticed me and screamed out, "Ha, -Joe, Beautiful Joe! Where's your tail? Who cut your ears off?" - -I don't think it was kind in the cabin boy to teach her this, and I -think she knew it teased me, for she said it over and over again, and -laughed and chuckled with delight. I left her and did not see her till -the next day, when the boys had got a fine, large cage for her. - -The place for her cage was by one of the hall windows; but everybody in -the house got so fond of her that she was moved about from one room to -another. - -She hated her cage, and used to put her head close to the bars and -plead, "Let Bella out; Bella will be a good girl. Bella won't run away." - -After a time the Morrises did let her out, and she kept her word and -never tried to get away. Jack put a little handle on her cage door so -that she could open and shut it herself, and it was very amusing to hear -her say in the morning. "Clear the track, children! Bella's going to -take a walk," and see her turn the handle with her claw and come out -into the room. She was a very clever bird, and I have never seen any -creature but a human being that could reason as she did. She was so -petted and talked to that she got to know a great many words, and on one -occasion she saved the Morrises from being robbed. - -It was in the winter time. The family was having tea in the dining -room at the back of the house, and Billy and I were lying in the hall -watching what was going on. There was no one in the front of the house. -The hall lamp was lighted, and the hall door closed, but not locked. -Some sneak thieves, who had been doing a great deal of mischief in -Fairport, crept up the steps and into the house, and, opening the door -of the hall closet laid their hands on the boys' winter overcoats. - -They thought no one saw them, but they were mistaken. Bella had been -having a nap upstairs and had not come down when the tea bell rang. -Now she was hopping down on her way to the dining room, and hearing -the slight noise below, stopped and looked through the railing. Any pet -creature that lives in a nice family hates a dirty, shabby person. Bella -knew that those beggar boys had no business in that closet. - -"Bad boys!" she screamed, angrily. "Get out get out! Here, Joe, Joe, -Beautiful Joe. Come quick. Billy, Billy, rats Hie out, Jim, sic 'im -boys. Where's the police. Call the police!" - -Billy and I sprang up and pushed open the door leading to the front -hall. The thieves in a terrible fright were just rushing down the front -steps. One of them got away, but the other fell, and I caught him by the -coat, till Mr. Morris ran and put his hand on his shoulder. - -He was a young fellow about Jack's age, but not one-half so manly, and -he was sniffling and scolding about "that pesky parrot." Mr. Morris made -him come back into the house, and had a talk with him. He found out that -he was a poor, ignorant lad, half starved by a drunken father. He and -his brother stole clothes, and sent them to his sister in Boston, who -sold them and returned part of the money. - -Mr. Morris asked him if he would not like to get his living in an honest -way, and he said he had tried to, but no one would employ him. Mr. -Morris told him to go home and take leave of his father and get his -brother and bring him to Washington street the next day. He told him -plainly that if he did not he would send a policeman after him. - -The boy begged Mr. Morris not to do that, and early the next morning he -appeared with his brother. Mrs. Morris gave them a good breakfast and -fitted them out with clothes, and they were sent off in the train to one -of her brothers, who was a kind farmer in the country, and who had been -telegraphed to that these boys were coming, and wished to be provided -with situations where they would have a chance to make honest men of -themselves. - - - -CHAPTER X BILLY'S TRAINING CONTINUED - -WHEN Billy was five months old, he had his first walk in the street. -Miss Laura knew that he had been well trained, so she did not hesitate -to take him into the town. She was not the kind of a young lady to go -into the street with a dog that would not behave himself, and she was -never willing to attract attention to herself by calling out orders to -any of her pets. - -As soon as we got down the front steps, she said, quietly to Billy, "To -heel." It was very hard for little, playful Billy to keep close to her -when he saw so many new and wonderful things about him. He had gotten -acquainted with everything in the house and garden, but this outside -world was full of things he wanted to look at and smell of, and he was -fairly crazy to play with some of the pretty dogs he saw running about. -But he did just as he was told. - -Soon we came to a shop, and Miss Laura went in to buy some ribbons. She -said to me, "Stay out," but Billy she took in with her. I watched them -through the glass door, and saw her go to a counter and sit down. Billy -stood behind her till she said, "Lie down." Then he curled himself at -her feet. - -He lay quietly, even when she left him and went to another counter. But -he eyed her very anxiously till she came back and said, "Up," to him. -Then he sprang up and followed her out to the street. - -She stood in the shop door, and looked lovingly down on us as we fawned -on her. "Good dogs," she said, softly; "you shall have a present." -We went behind her again, and she took us to a shop where we both lay -beside the counter. When we heard her ask the clerk for solid rubber -balls, we could scarcely keep still. We both knew what "ball" meant. - -Taking the parcel in her hand, she came out into the street. She did not -do any more shopping, but turned her face toward the sea. She was -going to give us a nice walk along the beach, although it was a dark, -disagreeable, cloudy day when most young ladies would have stayed in the -house. The Morris children never minded the weather. Even in the pouring -rain, the boys would put on rubber boots and coats and go out to play. -Miss Laura walked along, the high wind blowing her cloak and dress -about, and when we got past the houses, she had a little run with us. - -We jumped, and frisked, and barked, till we were tired; and then we -walked quietly along. - -A little distance ahead of us were some boys throwing sticks in the -water for two Newfoundland dogs. Suddenly a quarrel sprang up between -the dogs. They were both powerful creatures, and fairly matched as -regarded size. It was terrible to hear their fierce growling, and to -see the way in which they tore at each other's throats. I looked at Miss -Laura. If she had said a word, I would have run in and helped the dog -that was getting the worst of it. But she told me to keep back, and ran -on herself. - -The boys were throwing water on the dogs and pulling their tails, and -hurling stones at them, but they could not separate them. Their heads -seemed locked together, and they went back and forth over the stones, -the boys crowding around them, shouting, and beating, and kicking at -them. - -"Stand back, boys," said Miss Laura, "I'll stop them." She pulled a -little parcel from her purse, bent over the dogs, scattered a powder -on their noses, and the next instant the dogs were yards apart, nearly -sneezing their heads off. - -"I say, Missis, what did you do? What's that stuff? Whew, it's pepper!" -the boys exclaimed. - -Miss Laura sat down on a flat rock, and looked at them with a very pale -face. "Oh, boys," she said, "why did you make those dogs fight? It is so -cruel. They were playing happily till you set them on each other. -Just see how they have torn their handsome coats, and how the blood is -dripping from them." - -"'Taint my fault," said one of the lads, sullenly. "Jim Jones there -said his dog could lick my dog, and I said he couldn't and he couldn't, -nuther." - -"Yes, he could," cried the other boy, "and if you say he couldn't, I'll -smash your head." - -The two boys began sidling up to each other with clenched fists, and a -third boy, who had a mischievous face, seized the paper that had had the -pepper in it, and running up to them shook it in their faces. - -There was enough left to put all thoughts of fighting out of their -heads. They began to cough, and choke, and splutter, and finally found -themselves beside the dogs, where the four of them had a lively time. - -The other boys yelled with delight, and pointed their fingers at them. -"A sneezing concert. Thank you, gentlemen. Angcore, angcore!" - -Miss Laura laughed too, she could not help it, and even Billy and I -curled up our lips. After a while they sobered down, and then finding -that the boys hadn't a handkerchief between them, Miss Laura took her -own soft one, and dipping it in a spring of fresh water near by, wiped -the red eyes of the sneezers. - -Their ill humor had gone, and when she turned to leave them, and said, -coaxingly, "You won't make those dogs fight any more, will you?" they -said, "No, sirree, Bob." - -Miss Laura went slowly home, and ever afterward when she met any of -those boys, they called her "Miss Pepper." - -When we got home we found Willie curled up by the window in the hall, -reading a book. He was too fond of reading, and his mother often -told him to put away his book and run about with the other boys. This -afternoon Miss Laura laid her hand on his shoulder and said, "I was -going to give the dogs a little game of ball, but I'm rather tired." - -"Gammon and spinach," he replied, shaking off her hand, "you're always -tired." - -She sat down in a hall chair and looked at him. Then she began to tell -him about the dog fight. He was much interested, and the book slipped to -the floor. When she finished he said, "You're a daisy every day. Go now -and rest yourself." Then snatching the balls from her, he called us and -ran down to the basement. But he was not quick enough though to escape -her arm. She caught him to her and kissed him repeatedly. He was the -baby and pet of the family, and he loved her dearly, though he spoke -impatiently to her oftener than either of the other boys. - -We had a grand game with Willie. Miss Laura had trained us to do all -kinds of things with balls jumping for them, playing hide-and-seek, and -catching them. - -Billy could do more things than I could. One thing he did which I -thought was very clever. He played ball by himself. He was so crazy -about ball play that he could never get enough of it. Miss Laura played -all she could with him, but she had to help her mother with the sewing -and the housework, and do lessons with her father, for she was only -seventeen years old, and had not left off studying. So Billy would take -his ball and go off by himself. Sometimes he rolled it over the floor, -and sometimes he threw it in the air and pushed it through the staircase -railings to the hall below. He always listened till he heard it drop, -then he ran down and brought it back and pushed it through again. He did -this till he was tired, and then he brought the ball and laid it at Miss -Laura's feet. - -We both had been taught a number of tricks. We could sneeze and cough, -and be dead dogs, and say our prayers, and stand on our heads, and mount -a ladder and say the alphabet, this was the hardest of all, and it took -Miss Laura a long time to teach us. We never began till a book was laid -before us. Then we stared at it, and Miss Laura said, "Begin, Joe and -Billy say A." - -For A, we gave a little squeal. B was louder C was louder still. We -barked for some letters, and growled for others. We always turned a -summersault for S. When we got to Z, we gave the book a push and had a -frolic around the room. - -When any one came in, and Miss Laura had us show off any of our tricks, -the remark always was, "What clever dogs. They are not like other dogs." - -That was a mistake. Billy and I were not any brighter than many a -miserable cur that skulked about the streets of Fairport. It was -kindness and patience that did it all. When I was with Jenkins he -thought I was a very stupid dog. He would have laughed at the idea -of any one teaching me anything. But I was only sullen and obstinate, -because I was kicked about so much. If he had been kind to me, I would -have done anything for him. - -I loved to wait on Miss Laura and Mrs. Morris and they taught both Billy -and me to make ourselves useful about the house. Mrs. Morris didn't like -going up and down the three long staircases, and sometimes we just raced -up and down, waiting on her. - -How often I have heard her go into the hall and say, "Please send me -down a clean duster, Laura. Joe, you get it." I would run gayly up the -steps, and then would come Billy's turn. "Billy, I have forgotten my -keys. Go get them." - -After a time we began to know the names of different articles, and where -they were kept, and could get them ourselves. On sweeping days we worked -very hard, and enjoyed the fun. If Mrs. Morris was too far away to call -to Mary for what she wanted, she wrote the name on a piece of paper, and -told us to take it to her. - -Billy always took the letters from the postman, and carried the morning -paper up to Mr. Morris's study, and I always put away the clean clothes. -After they were mended, Mrs. Morris folded each article and gave it to -me, mentioning the name of the owner, so that I could lay it on his bed, -There was no need for her to tell me the names. I knew by the smell. -All human beings have a strong smell to a dog, even though they mayn't -notice it themselves. Mrs. Morris never knew how she bothered me by -giving away Miss Laura's clothes to poor people. Once, I followed her -track all through the town, and at last found it was only a pair of her -boots on a ragged child in the gutter. - -I must say a word about Billy's tail before I close this chapter. It is -the custom to cut the ends of fox terrier's tails, but leave their ears -untouched. Billy came to Miss Laura so young that his tail had not been -cut off, and she would not have it done. - -One day Mr. Robinson came in to see him and he said, "You have made a -fine-looking dog of him, but his appearance is ruined by the length of -his tail." - -"Mr. Robinson," said Mrs. Morris, patting little Billy, who lay on -her lap, "don't you think that this little dog has a beautifully -proportioned body?" - -"Yes, I do," said the gentleman. "His points are all correct, save that -one." - -"But," she said, "if our Creator made that beautiful little body, don't -you think he is wise enough to know what length of tail would be in -proportion to it?" - -Mr. Robinson would not answer her. He only laughed and said that he -thought she and Miss Laura were both "cranks." - - - -CHAPTER XI GOLDFISH AND CANARIES - -THE Morris boys were all different. Jack was bright and clever, Ned was -a wag, Willie was a book-worm, and Carl was a born trader. - -He was always exchanging toys and books with his schoolmates, and they -never got the better of him in a bargain. He said that when he grew up -he was going to be a merchant, and he had already begun to carry on a -trade in canaries and goldfish. He was very fond of what he called "his -yellow pets," yet he never kept a pair of birds or a goldfish, if he had -a good offer for them. - -He slept alone in a large, sunny room at the top of the house. By his -own request, it was barely furnished, and there he raised his canaries -and kept his goldfish. - -He was not fond of having visitors coming to his room, because, he said, -they frightened the canaries. After Mrs. Morris made his bed in the -morning, the door was closed, and no one was supposed to go in till he -came from school. Once Billy and I followed him upstairs without his -knowing it, but as soon as he saw us he sent us down in a great hurry. - -One day Bella walked into his room to inspect the canaries. She was -quite a spoiled bird by this time, and I heard Carl telling the family -afterward that it was as good as a play to see Miss Bella strutting in -with her breast stuck out, and her little, conceited air, and hear her -say, shrilly, "Good morning, birds, good morning! How do you do, Carl? -Glad to see you, boy." - -"Well, I'm not glad to see you," he said decidedly, "and don't you ever -come up here again. You'd frighten my canaries to death." And he sent -her flying downstairs. - -How cross she was! She came shrieking to Miss Laura. "Bella loves birds. -Bella wouldn't hurt birds. Carl's a bad boy." - -Miss Laura petted and soothed her, telling her to go find Davy, and he -would play with her. Bella and the rat were great friends. It was very -funny to see them going about the house together. From the very first -she had liked him, and coaxed him into her cage, where he soon became -quite at home, so much so that he always slept there. About nine o'clock -every evening, if he was not with her, she went all over the house, -crying, "Davy! Davy! time to go to bed. Come sleep in Bella's cage." - -He was very fond of the nice sweet cakes she got to eat, but she never -could get him to eat coffee grounds food she liked best. - -Miss Laura spoke to Carl about Bella, and told him he had hurt her -feelings, so he petted her a little to make up for it. Then his mother -told him that she thought he was making a mistake in keeping his -canaries so much to themselves. They had become so timid, that when she -went into the room they were uneasy till she left it. She told him that -petted birds or animals are sociable and like company, unless they are -kept by themselves, when they become shy. She advised him to let the -other boys go into the room, and occasionally to bring some of his -pretty singers downstairs, where all the family could enjoy seeing and -hearing them, and where they would get used to other people besides -himself. - -Carl looked thoughtful, and his mother went on to say that there was no -one in the house, not even the cat, that would harm his birds. - -"You might even charge admission for a day or two," said Jack, gravely, -"and introduce us to them, and make a little money." - -Carl was rather annoyed at this, but his mother calmed him by showing -him a letter she had just gotten from one of her brothers, asking her -to let one of her boys spend his Christmas holidays in the country with -him. - -"I want you to go, Carl," she said. - -He was very much pleased, but looked sober when he thought of his pets. -"Laura and I will take care of them," said his mother, "and start the -new management of them." - -"Very well," said Carl, "I will go then; I've no young ones now, so you -will not find them much trouble." - -I thought it was a great deal of trouble to take care of them. The first -morning after Carl left, Billy, and Bella, and Davy, and I followed Miss -Laura upstairs. She made us sit in a row by the door, lest we should -startle the canaries. She had a great many things to do. First, the -canaries had their baths. They had to get them at the same time every -morning. Miss Laura filled the little white dishes with water and put -them in the cages, and then came and sat on a stool by the door. Bella, -and Billy, and Davy climbed into her lap, and I stood close by her. It -was so funny to watch those canaries. They put their heads on one side -and looked first at their little baths and then at us. They knew we were -strangers. Finally, as we were all very quiet, they got into the water; -and what a good time they had, fluttering their wings and splashing, and -cleaning themselves so nicely. - -Then they got up on their perches and sat in the sun, shaking themselves -and picking at their feathers. - -Miss Laura cleaned each cage, and gave each bird some mixed rape and -canary seed. I heard Carl tell her before he left not to give them much -hemp seed, for that was too fattening. He was very careful about their -food. During the summer I had often seen him taking up nice green things -to them: celery, chickweed, tender cabbage, peaches, apples, pears, -bananas; and now at Christmas time, he had green stuff growing in pots -on the window ledge. - -Besides that he gave them crumbs of coarse bread, crackers, lumps of -sugar, cuttle-fish to peck at, and a number of other things. Miss Laura -did everything just as he told her; but I think she talked to the birds -more than he did. She was very particular about their drinking water, -and washed out the little glass cups that held it most carefully. - -After the canaries were clean and comfortable, Miss Laura set their -cages in the sun, and turned to the goldfish. They were in large glass -globes on the window-seat. She took a long-handled tin cup, and dipped -out the fish from one into a basin of water. Then she washed the globe -thoroughly and put the fish back, and scattered wafers of fish food on -the top. The fish came up and snapped at it, and acted as if they were -glad to get it. She did each globe and then her work was over for one -morning. - -She went away for a while, but every few hours through the day she ran -up to Carl's room to see how the fish and canaries were getting on. If -the room was too chilly she turned on more heat; but she did not keep it -too warm, for that would make the birds tender. - -After a time the canaries got to know her, and hopped gayly around their -cages, and chirped and sang whenever they saw her coming. Then she began -to take some of them downstairs, and to let them out of their cages for -an hour or two every day. They were very happy little creatures, and -chased each other about the room, and flew on Miss Laura's head, and -pecked saucily at her face as she sat sewing and watching them. They -were not at all afraid of me nor of Billy, and it was quite a sight to -see them hopping up to Bella. She looked so large beside them. - -One little bird became ill while Carl was away, and Miss Laura had to -give it a great deal of attention. She gave it plenty of hemp seed to -make it fat, and very often the yolk of a hard boiled egg, and kept a -nail in its drinking water, and gave it a few drops of alcohol in its -bath every morning to keep it from taking cold. The moment the bird -finished taking its bath, Miss Laura took the dish from the cage, for -the alcohol made the water poisonous. Then vermin came on it; and she -had to write to Carl to ask him what do. He told her to hang a muslin -bag full of sulphur over the swing, so that the bird would dust it down -on her feathers. That cured the little thing, and when Carl came home, -he found it quite well again. One day, just after he got back, Mrs. -Montague drove up to the house with canary cage carefully done up in a -shawl. She said that a bad-tempered housemaid, in cleaning the cage that -morning, had gotten angry with the bird and struck it, breaking its -leg. She was very much annoyed with the girl for her cruelty, and had -dismissed her, and now she wanted Carl to take her bird and nurse it, as -she knew nothing about canaries. - -Carl had just come in from school. He threw down his books, took the -shawl from the cage and looked in. The poor little canary was sitting In -a corner. Its eyes were half shut, one leg hung loose, and it was making -faint chirps of distress. - -Carl was very much interested in it. He got Mrs. Montague to help him, -and together they split matches, tore up strips of muslin, and bandaged -the broken leg. He put the little bird back in the cage, and it seemed -more comfortable. "I think he will do now," he said to Mrs. Montague, -"but hadn't you better leave him with me for a few days?" - -She gladly agreed to this and went away, after telling him that the -bird's name was Dick. - -The next morning at the breakfast table, I heard Carl telling his mother -that as soon as he woke up he sprang out of bed and went to see how -his canary was. During the night, poor, foolish Dick had picked off the -splints from his leg, and now it was as bad as ever. "I shall have to -perform a surgical operation." he said. - -I did not know what he meant, so I watched him when, after breakfast, he -brought the bird down to his mother's room. She held it while he took a -pair of sharp scissors, and cut its leg right off a little way above the -broken place. Then he put some vaseline on the tiny stump, bound it up, -and left Dick in his mother's care. All the morning, as she sat sewing, -she watched him to see that he did not pick the bandage away. - -When Carl came home, Dick was so much better that he had managed to fly -up on his perch, and was eating seeds quite gayly. "Poor Dick!" said -Carl, "A leg and a stump!" Dick imitated him in a few little chirps, "A -leg and a stump!" - -"Why, he is saying it too," exclaimed Carl, and burst out laughing. - -Dick seemed cheerful enough, but it was very pitiful to see him dragging -his poor little stump around the cage, and resting it against the perch -to keep him from falling. When Mrs. Montague came the next day, she -could not bear to look at him. "Oh, dear!" she exclaimed, "I cannot take -that disfigured bird home." - -I could not help thinking how different she was from Miss Laura, who -loved any creature all the more for having some blemish about it. - -"What shall I do?" said Mrs. Montague. "I miss my little bird so much. I -shall have to get a new one. Carl, will you sell me one?" - -"I will give you one, Mrs. Montague," said the boy, eagerly. "I would -like to do so." Mrs. Morris looked pleased to hear Carl say this. She -used to fear sometimes, that in his love for making money, he would -become selfish. - -Mrs. Montague was very kind to the Morris family, and Carl seemed quite -pleased to do her a favor. He took her up to his room, and let her -choose the bird she liked best. She took a handsome, yellow one, called -Barry. He was a good singer, and a great favorite of Carl's. The boy put -him in the cage, wrapped it up well, for it was a cold, snowy day, and -carried it out to Mrs. Montague's sleigh. - -She gave him a pleasant smile, and drove away, and Carl ran up the steps -into the house. "It's all right, mother," he said, giving Mrs. Morris a -hearty, boyish kiss, as she stood waiting for him. "I don't mind letting -her have it." - -"But you expected to sell that one, didn't you?" she asked. - -"Mrs. Smith said maybe she'd take it when she came home from Boston, but -I dare say she'd change her mind and get one there." - -"How much were you going to ask for him?" - -"Well, I wouldn't sell Barry for less than ten dollars, or rather, I -wouldn't have sold him," and he ran out to the stable. - -Mrs. Morris sat on the hall chair, patting me as I rubbed against -her, in rather an absent minded way. Then she got up and went into her -husband's study, and told him what Carl had done. - -Mr. Morris seemed very pleased to hear about it, but when his wife asked -him to do something to make up the loss to the boy, he said: "I had -rather not do that. To encourage a child to do a kind action, and then -to reward him for it, is not always a sound principle to go upon." - -But Carl did not go without his reward. That evening, Mrs. Montague's -coachman brought a note to the house addressed to Mr. Carl Morris. He -read it aloud to the family. - - - -MY DEAR CARL: I am charmed with my little bird, and he has whispered to -me one of the secrets of your room. You want fifteen dollars very much -to buy something for it. I am sure you won't be offended with an old -friend for supplying you the means to get this something. - -ADA MONTAGUE. - - - -"Just the thing for my stationary tank for the goldfish," exclaimed -Carl. "I've wanted it for a long time; it isn't good to keep them in -globes, but how in the world did she find out? I've never told any one." - -Mrs. Morris smiled, and said; "Barry must have told her;" as she took -the money from Carl to put away for him. - -Mrs. Montague got to be very fond of her new pet. She took care of him -herself, and I have heard her tell Mrs. Morris most wonderful stories -about him stories so wonderful that I should say they were not true if I -did not how intelligent dumb creatures get to be under kind treatment. - -She only kept him in his cage at night, and when she began looking for -him at bedtime to put him there, he always hid himself. She would -search a short time, and then sit down, and he always came out of his -hiding-place, chirping in a saucy way to make her look at him. - -She said that he seemed to take delight in teasing her. Once when he was -in the drawing-room with her, she was called away to speak to some one -at the telephone. When she came back, she found that one of the servants -had come into the room and left the door open leading to a veranda. -The trees outside were full of yellow birds, and she was in despair, -thinking that Barry had flown out with them. She looked out, but could -not see him. Then, lest he had not left the room, she got a chair and -carried it about, standing on it to examine the walls, and see if Barry -was hidden among the pictures and bric-a-brac. But no Barry was there. -She at last sank down, exhausted, on a sofa. She heard a wicked, little -peep, and looking up, saw Barry sitting on one of the rounds of the -chair that she had been carrying about to look for him. He had been -there all the time. She was so glad to see him, that she never thought -of scolding him. - -He was never allowed to fly about the dining room during meals, and the -table maid drove him out before she set the table. It always annoyed -him, and he perched on the staircase, watching the door through the -railings. If it was left open for an instant, he flew in. One evening, -before tea, he did this. There was a chocolate cake on the sideboard, -and he liked the look of it so much that he began to peck at it. Mrs. -Montague happened to come in, and drove him back to the hall. - -While she was having tea that evening, with her husband and little boy, -Barry flew into the room again. Mrs. Montague told Charlie to send him -out, but her husband said, "Wait, he is looking for something." - -He was on the sideboard, peering into every dish, and trying to look -under the covers. "He is after the chocolate cake," exclaimed Mrs. -Montague. "Here, Charlie; put this on the staircase for him." - -She cut off a little scrap, and when Charlie took it to the hall, Barry -flew after him, and ate it up. - -As for poor, little, lame Dick, Carl never sold him, and he became a -family pet. His cage hung in the parlor, and from morning till night -his cheerful voice was heard, chirping and singing as if he had not a -trouble in the world. They took great care of him. He was never allowed -to be too hot or too cold. Everybody gave him a cheerful word in passing -his cage, and if his singing was too loud, they gave him a little mirror -to look at himself in. He loved this mirror, and often stood before it -for an hour at a time. - - - -CHAPTER XII MALTA THE CAT - -THE first time I had a good look at the Morris cat, I thought she was -the queerest-looking animal I had ever seen. She was dark gray just the -color of a mouse. Her eyes were a yellowish green, and for the first few -days I was at the Morrises' they looked very unkindly at me. Then -she got over her dislike and we became very good friends. She was a -beautiful cat, and so gentle and affectionate that the whole family -loved her. - -She was three years old, and she had come to Fairport in a vessel with -some sailors, who had gotten her in a far-away place. Her name was -Malta, and she was called a maltese cat. - -I have seen a great many cats, but I never saw one as kind as Malta. -Once she had some little kittens and they all died. It almost broke her -heart. She cried and cried about the house till it made one feel sad to -hear her. Then she ran away to the woods. She came back with a little -squirrel in her mouth, and putting it in her basket, she nursed it like -a mother, till it grew old enough to run away from her. - -She was a very knowing cat, and always came when she was called. Miss -Laura used to wear a little silver whistle that she blew when she wanted -any of her pets. It was a shrill whistle, and we could hear it a long -way from home. I have seen her standing at the back door whistling for -Malta, and the pretty creature's head would appear somewhere always high -up, for she was a great climber, and she would come running along the -top of the fence, saying, "Meow, meow," in a funny, short way. - -Miss Laura would pet her, or give her something to eat, or walk around -the garden carrying her on her shoulder. Malta was a most affectionate -cat, and if Miss Laura would not let her lick her face, she licked her -hair with her little, rough tongue. Often Malta lay by the fire, licking -my coat or little Billy's, to show her affection for us. - -Mary, the cook, was very fond of cats, and used to keep Malta in the -kitchen as much as she could, but nothing would make her stay down there -if there was any music going on upstairs. The Morris pets were all fond -of music. As soon as Miss Laura sat down to the piano to sing or play, -we came from all parts of the house. Malta cried to get upstairs, -Davy scampered through the hall, and Bella hurried after him. If I was -outdoors I ran in the house; and Jim got on a box and looked through the -window. - -Davy's place was on Miss Laura's shoulder, his pink nose run in the -curls at the back of her neck. I sat under the piano beside Malta -and Bella, and we never stirred till the music was over; then we went -quietly away. - -Malta was a beautiful cat there was no doubt about it. While I was with -Jenkins I thought cats were vermin, like rats, and I chased them every -chance I got. Mrs. Jenkins had a cat, a gaunt, long-legged, yellow -creature, that ran whenever we looked at it. - -Malta had been so kindly treated that she never ran from any one, except -from strange dogs. She knew they would be likely to hurt her. If they -came upon her suddenly, she faced them, and she was a pretty good -fighter when she was put to it. I once saw her having a brush with a -big mastiff that lived a few blocks from us, and giving him good fright; -which just served him right. - -I was shut up in the parlor. Some one had closed the door, and I could -not get out. I was watching Malta from the window, as she daintily -picked her way across the muddy street. She was such a soft, pretty, -amiable-looking cat. She didn't look that way, though, when the mastiff -rushed out of the alleyway at her. - -She sprang back and glared at him like a little, fierce tiger. Her tail -was enormous. Her eyes were like balls of fire, and she was spitting and -snarling, as if to say, "If you touch me, I'll tear you to pieces!" - -The dog, big as he was, did not dare attack her. He walked around and -around, like a great clumsy elephant, and she turned her small body as -he turned his, and kept up a dreadful hissing and spitting. Suddenly -I saw a Spitz dog hurrying down the street. He was going to help the -mastiff, and Malta would be badly hurt. I had barked and no one had come -to let me out, so I sprang through the window. - -Just then there was a change. Malta had seen the second dog, and she -knew she must get rid of the mastiff. With an agile bound she sprang on -his back, dug her sharp claws in, till he put his tail between his legs -and ran up the street, howling with palm She rode a little way, then -sprang off, and ran up the lane to the stable. - -I was very angry and wanted to fight something so I pitched into the -Spitz dog. He was a snarly, cross-grained creature, no friend to Jim and -me, and he would have been only too glad of a chance to help kill Malta. - -I gave him one of the worst beatings he ever had. I don't suppose it -was quite right for me to do it, for Miss Laura says dogs should never -fight; but he had worried Malta before, and he had no business to do it. -She belonged to our family. Jim and I never worried his cat. I had been -longing to give him a shaking for some time, and now I felt for his -throat through his thick hair and dragged him all around the street. -Then I let him go, and he was a civil dog ever afterward. - -Malta was very grateful, and licked a little place where the Spitz bit -me. I did not get scolded for the broken window. Mary had seen from the -kitchen window, and told Mrs. Morris that I had gone to help Malta. - -Malta was a very wise cat. She knew quite well that she must not harm -the parrot nor the canaries, and she never tried to catch them, even -though she was left alone in the room with them. - -I have seen her lying in the sun, blinking sleepily, and listening with -great pleasure to Dick's singing. Miss Laura even taught her not to hunt -the birds outside. - -For a long time she had tried to get it into Malta's head that it was -cruel to catch the little sparrows that came about the door, and just -after I came, she succeeded in doing so. - -Malta was so fond of Miss Laura, that whenever she caught a bird, she -came and laid it at her feet. Miss Laura always picked up the little, -dead creature, pitied it and stroked it, and scolded Malta till she -crept into a corner. Then Miss Laura put the bird on a limb of a tree, -and Malta watched her attentively from her corner. - -One day Miss Laura stood at the window, looking out into the garden. -Malta was lying on the platform, staring at the sparrows that were -picking up crumbs from the ground. She trembled, and half rose every few -minutes, as if to go after them. Then she lay down again. She was trying -very hard not to creep on them. Presently a neighbor's cat came stealing -along the fence, keeping one eye on Malta and the other on the sparrows. -Malta was so angry! She sprang up and chased her away, and then came -back to the platform, where she lay down again and waited for the -sparrows to come back. For a long time she stayed there, and never once -tried to catch them. - -Miss Laura was so pleased. She went to the door, and said, softly, "Come -here, Malta." - -The cat put up her tail, and, meowing gently, came into the house. Miss -Laura took her up in her arms, and going down to the kitchen, asked Mary -to give her a saucer of her very sweetest milk for the best cat in the -United States of America. - -Malta got great praise for this, and I never knew of her catching a bird -afterward. She was well fed in the house, and had no need to hurt such -harmless creatures. - -She was very fond of her home, and never went far away, as Jim and I -did. Once, when Willie was going to spend a few weeks with a little -friend who lived fifty miles from Fairport, he took it into his head -that Malta should go with him. His mother told him that cats did not -like to go away from home; but he said he would be good to her, and -begged so hard to take her, that at last his mother consented. - -He had been a few days in this place, when he wrote home to say that -Malta had run away. She had seemed very unhappy, and though he had kept -her with him all the time, she had acted as if she wanted to get away. - -When the letter was read to Mr. Morris, he said, "Malta is on her way -home. Cats have a wonderful cleverness in finding their way to their own -dwelling. She will be very tired. Let us go out and meet her." - -Willie had gone to this place in a coach. Mr. Morris got a buggy and -took Miss Laura and me with him, and we started out. We went slowly -along the road. Every little while Miss Laura blew her whistle, and -called, "Malta, Malta," and I barked as loudly as I could. Mr. Morris -drove for several hours, then we stopped at a house, had dinner, and -then set out again. We were going through a thick wood, where there was -a pretty straight road, when I saw a small, dark creature away ahead, -trotting toward us. It was Malta. I gave a joyful bark, but she did not -know me, and plunged into the wood. - -I ran in after her, barking and yelping, and Miss Laura blew her whistle -as loudly as she could. Soon there was a little gray head peeping at us -from the bushes, and Malta bounded out, gave me a look of surprise and -then leaped into the buggy on Miss Laura's lap. - -What a happy cat she was! She purred with delight, and licked Miss -Laura's gloves over and over again. Then she ate the food they had -brought, and went sound asleep. She was very thin, and for several days -after getting home she slept the most of the time. - -Malta did not like dogs, but she was very good to cats. One day, when -there was no one about and the garden was very quiet, I saw her go -stealing into the stable, and come out again, followed by a sore-eyed, -starved-looking cat, that had been deserted by some people that lived in -the next street. She led this cat up to her catnip bed, and watched her -kindly, while she rolled and rubbed herself in it. Then Malta had a roll -in it herself, and they both went back to the stable. - -Catnip is a favorite plant with cats, and Miss Laura always kept some of -it growing for Malta. - -For a long time this sick cat had a home in the stable. Malta carried -her food every day and after a time Miss Laura found out about her and -did what she could to make her well. In time she got to be a strong, -sturdy-looking cat, and Miss Laura got a home for her with an invalid -lady. - -It was nothing new for the Morrises to feed deserted cats. Some summers, -Mrs. Morris said that she had a dozen to take care of. Careless and -cruel people would go away for the summer, shutting up their houses, -and making no provision for the poor cats that had been allowed to sit -snugly by the fire all winter. At last, Mrs. Morris got into the habit -of putting a little notice in the Fairport paper, asking people who -were going away for the summer to provide for their cats during their -absence. - - - -CHAPTER XIII THE BEGINNING OF AN ADVENTURE - -THE first winter I was at the Morrises', I had an adventure. It was a -week before Christmas, and we were having cold, frosty weather. Not much -snow had fallen, but there was plenty of skating, and the boys were off -every day with their skates on a little lake near Fairport. - -Jim and I often went with them, and we had great fun scampering over the -ice after them, and slipping at every step. - -On this Saturday night we had just gotten home. It was quite dark -outside, and there was a cold wind blowing, so when we came in the front -door, and saw the red light from the big hall stove and the blazing fire -in the parlor they looked very cheerful. - -I was quite sorry for Jim that he had to go out to his kennel. However, -he said he didn't mind. The boys got a plate of nice, warm meat for -him and a bowl of milk, and carried them out, and afterward he went to -sleep. Jim's kennel was a very snug one. Being a spaniel, he was not a -very large dog, but his kennel was as roomy as if he was a great Dane. -He told me that Mr. Morris and the boys made it, and he liked it very -much, because it was large enough for him to get up in the night and -stretch himself, when he got tired of lying in one position. - -It was raised a little from the ground, and it had a thick layer of -straw over the floor. Above was a broad shelf, wide enough for him to -lie on, and covered with an old catskin sleigh robe. Jim always slept -here in cold weather, because it was farther away from the ground. - -To return to this December evening. I can remember yet how hungry I -was. I could scarcely lie still till Miss Laura finished her tea. Mrs. -Morris, knowing that her boys would be very hungry, had Mary broil some -beefsteak and roast some potatoes for them; and didn't they smell good! - -They ate all the steak and potatoes. It didn't matter to me, for I -wouldn't have gotten any if they had been left. Mrs. Morris could -not afford to give to the dogs good meat that she had gotten for her -children, so she used to get the butcher to send her liver, and bones, -and tough meat, and Mary cooked them, and made soup and broth, and mixed -porridge with them for us. - -We never got meat three times a day. Miss Laura said it was all very -well to feed hunting dogs on meat, but dogs that are kept about a house -get ill if they are fed too well. So we had meat only once a day, and -bread and milk, porridge, or dog biscuits, for our other meals. - -I made a dreadful noise when I was eating. Ever since Jenkins cut my -ears off, I had had trouble in breathing. The flaps had kept the wind -and dust from the inside of my ears. Now that they were gone my head was -stuffed up all the time. The cold weather made me worse, and sometimes I -had such trouble to get my breath that it seemed as if I would choke. -If I had opened my mouth, and breathed through it, as I have seen some -people doing, I would have been more comfortable, but dogs always like -to breathe through their noses. - -"You have taken more cold," said Miss Laura, this night, as she put my -plate of food on the floor for me. "Finish your meat, and then come and -sit by the fire with me. What! do you want more?" - -I gave a little bark, so she filled my plate for the second time. Miss -Laura never allowed any one to meddle with us when we were eating. -One day she found Willie teasing me by snatching at a bone that I was -gnawing. "Willie," she said, "what would you do if you were just sitting -down to the table feeling very hungry, and just as you began to eat your -meat and potatoes, I would come along and snatch the plate from you?" - -"I don't know what I'd do," he said, laughingly; "but I'd want to wallop -you." - -"Well," she said, "I'm afraid that Joe will 'wallop' you some day if you -worry him about his food, for even a gentle dog will sometimes snap at -any one who disturbs him at his meals; so you had better not try his -patience too far." - -Willie never teased me after that, and I was very glad, for two or three -times I had been tempted to snarl at him. - -After I finished my tea, I followed Miss Laura upstairs. She took up -a book and sat down in a low chair, and I lay down on the hearth rug -beside her. - -"Do you know, Joe," she said with a smile, "why you scratch with your -paws when you lie down, as if to make yourself a hollow bed, and turn -around a great many times before you lie down?" - -Of course I did not know, so I only stared at her. "Years and years -ago," she went on, gazing down at me, "there weren't any dogs living in -people's houses, as you are, Joe. They were all wild creatures running -about the woods. They always scratched among the leaves to make a -comfortable bed for themselves, and the habit has come down to you, Joe, -for you are descended from them." - -This sounded very interesting, and I think she was going to tell me some -more about my wild forefathers, but just then the rest of the family -came in. - -I always thought that this was the snuggest time of the day when the -family all sat around the fire Mrs. Morris sewing, the boys reading or -studying, and Mr. Morris with his head buried in a newspaper, and Billy -and I on the floor at their feet. - -This evening I was feeling very drowsy, and had almost dropped asleep, -when Ned gave me a push with his foot. He was a great tease, and he -delighted in getting me to make a simpleton of myself. I tried to keep -my eyes on the fire, but I could not, and just had to turn and look at -him. - -He was holding his book up between himself and his mother, and was -opening his mouth as wide as he could and throwing back his head, -pretending to howl. - -For the life of me I could not help giving a loud howl. Mrs. Morris -looked up and said, "Bad Joe, keep still." - -The boys were all laughing behind their books, for they knew what Ned -was doing. Presently he started off again, and I was just beginning -another howl that might have made Mrs. Morris send me out of the room, -when the door opened, and a young girl called Bessie Drury came in. - -She had a cap on and a shawl thrown over her shoulders, and she had just -run across the street from her father's house. "Oh, Mrs. Morris," she -said, "will you let Laura come over and stay with me to-night? Mamma has -just gotten a telegram from Bangor, saying that her aunt, Mrs. Cole, is -very ill, and she wants to see her, and papa is going to take her there -by tonight's train, and she is afraid I will be lonely if I don't have -Laura." - -"Can you not come and spend the night here?" said Mrs. Morris. - -"No, thank you; I think mamma would rather have me stay in our house." - -"Very well," said Mrs. Morris, "I think Laura would like to go." - -"Yes, indeed," said Miss Laura, smiling at her friend. "I will come over -in half an hour." - -"Thank you, so much," said Miss Bessie. And she hurried away. - -After she left, Mr. Morris looked up from his paper. "There will be some -one in the house besides those two girls?" - -"Oh, yes," said Mrs. Morris; "Mrs. Drury has her old nurse, who has been -with her for twenty years, and there are two maids besides, and Donald, -the coachman, who sleeps over the stable. So they are well protected." - -"Very good," said Mr. Morris. And he went back to his paper. - -Of course dumb animals do not understand all that they hear spoken of; -but I think human beings would be astonished if they knew how much we -can gather from their looks and voices. I knew that Mr. Morris did not -quite like the idea of having his daughter go to the Drury's when the -master and mistress of the house were away, so I made up my mind that I -would go with her. - -When she came down stairs with her little satchel on her arm, I got up -and stood beside her. "Dear, old Joe," she said, "you must not come." - -I pushed myself out the door beside her after she had kissed her mother -and father and the boys. "Go back, Joe," she said, firmly. - -I had to step back then, but I cried and whined, and she looked at me -in astonishment. "I will be back in the morning, Joe," she said, gently; -"don't squeal in that way." Then she shut the door and went out. - -I felt dreadfully. I walked up and down the floor and ran to the window, -and howled without having to look at Ned. Mrs. Morris peered over her -glasses at me in utter surprise. "Boys," she said, "did you ever see Joe -act in that way before?" - -"No, mother," they all said. - -Mr. Morris was looking at me very intently. He had always taken more -notice of me than any other creature about the house, and I was very -fond of him. Now I ran up and put my paws on his knees. - -"Mother," he said, turning to his wife, "let the dog go." - -"Very well," she said, in a puzzled way. "Jack, just run over with -him, and tell Mrs. Drury how he is acting, and that I will be very much -obliged if she will let him stay all night with Laura." - -Jack sprang up, seized his cap, and raced down the front steps, across -the street, through the gate, and up the gravelled walk, where the -little stones were all hard and fast in the frost. - -The Drurys lived in a large, white house, with trees all around it, -and a garden at the back. They were rich people and had a great deal of -company. Through the summer I had often seen carriages at the door, -and ladies and gentlemen in light clothes walking over the lawn, and -sometimes I smelled nice things they were having to eat. They did not -keep any dogs, nor pets of any kind so Jim and I never had an excuse to -call there. - -Jack and I were soon at the front door, and he rang the bell and gave -me in charge of the maid who opened it. The girl listened to his message -for Mrs. Drury, then she walked upstairs, smiling and looking at me over -her shoulder. - -There was a trunk in the upper hall, and an elderly woman was putting -things in it. A lady stood watching her, and when she saw me, she gave -a little scream, "Oh, nurse! look at that horrid dog! Where did he come -from? Put him out, Susan." - -I stood quite still, and the girl who had brought me upstairs, gave her -Jack's message. - -"Certainly, certainly," said the lady, when the maid finished speaking. -"If he is one of the Morris dogs, he is sure to be a well-behaved one. -Tell the little boy to thank his mamma for letting Laura come over, and -say that we will keep the dog with pleasure. Now, nurse, we must hurry: -the cab will be here in five minutes." - -I walked softly into a front room, and there I found my dear Miss -Laura. Miss Bessie was with her, and they were cramming things into a -portmanteau. They both ran out to find out how I came there, and just -then a gentleman came hurriedly upstairs, and said the cab had come. - -There was a scene of great confusion and hurry but in a few minutes it -was all over. The cab had rolled away, and the house was quiet. - -"Nurse, you must be tired, you had better go to bed," said Miss Bessie, -turning to the elderly woman, as we all stood in the hall. "Susan, will -you bring some supper to the dining-room, for Miss Morris and me? What -will you have, Laura?" - -"What are you going to have?" asked Miss Laura, with a smile. - -"Hot chocolate and tea biscuits." - -"Then I will have the same." - -"Bring some cake too, Susan," said Miss Bessie, "and something for the -dog. I dare say he would like some of that turkey that was left from -dinner." - -If I had had any ears I would have pricked them up at this, for I was -very fond of fowl, and I never got any at the Morrises', unless it might -be a stray bone or two. - -What fun we had over our supper! The two girls sat at the big dining -table, and sipped their chocolate, and laughed and talked, and I had -the skeleton of a whole turkey on a newspaper that Susan spread on the -carpet. I was very careful not to drag it about, and Miss Bessie laughed -at me till the tears came in her eyes. "That dog is a gentleman," she -said; "see how he holds bones on the paper with his paws, and strips the -meat off with his teeth. Oh, Joe, Joe, you are a funny dog! And you are -having a funny supper. I have heard of quail on toast, but I never heard -of turkey on newspaper." - -"Hadn't we better go to bed?" said Miss Laura, when the hall clock -struck eleven. - -"Yes, I suppose we had," said Miss Bessie. - -"Where is this animal to sleep?" - -"I don't know," said Miss Laura; "he sleeps in the stable at home, or in -the kennel with Jim." - -"Suppose Susan makes him a nice bed by the kitchen stove?" said Miss -Bessie. - -Susan made the bed, but I was not willing to sleep in it. I barked so -loudly when they shut me up alone, that they had to let me go upstairs -with them. - -Miss Laura was almost angry with me, but I could not help it. I had come -over there to protect her, and I wasn't going to leave her, if I could -help it. - -Miss Bessie had a handsomely furnished room with a soft carpet on the -floor, and pretty curtains at the windows. There were two single beds -in it, and the two girls dragged them close together so that they could -talk after they got in bed. - -Before Miss Bessie put out the light, she told Miss Laura not to be -alarmed if she heard any one walking about in the night, for the nurse -was sleeping across the hall from them, and she would probably come in -once or twice to see if they were sleeping comfortably. - -The two girls talked for a long time, and then they fell asleep. Just -before Miss Laura dropped off, she forgave me, and put down her hand for -me to lick as I lay on a fur rug close by her bed. - -I was very tired, and I had a very soft and pleasant bed, so I soon fell -into a heavy sleep. But I waked up at the slightest noise. Once Miss -Laura turned in bed, and another time Miss Bessie laughed in her sleep, -and again, there were queer crackling noises in the frosty limbs of the -trees outside, that made me start up quickly out of my sleep. - -There was a big clock in the hall, and every time it struck I waked up. -Once, just after it had struck some hour, I jumped up out of a sound -nap. I had been dreaming about my early home. Jenkins was after me -with a whip, and my limbs were quivering and trembling as if I had been -trying to get away from him. - -I sprang up and shook myself. Then I took a turn around the room. The -two girls were breathing gently; I could scarcely hear them. I walked -to the door and looked out into the hall. There was a dim light burning -there. The door of the nurse's room stood open. I went quietly to it and -looked in. She was breathing heavily and muttering in her sleep. - -I went back to my rug and tried to go to sleep, but I could not. Such an -uneasy feeling was upon me that I had to keep walking about. I went out -into the hall again and stood at the head of the staircase. I thought I -would take a walk through the lower hall, and then go to bed again. - -The Drurys' carpets were all like velvet, and my paws did not make a -rattling on them as they did on the oil cloth at the Morrises'. I crept -down the stairs like a cat, and walked along the lower hall, smelling -under all the doors, listening as I went. There was no night light -burning down here, and it was quite dark, but if there had been any -strange person about I would have smelled him. - -I was surprised when I got near the farther end of the hall, to see -a tiny gleam of light shine for an instant from under the dining-room -door. Then it went away again. The dining-room was the place to eat. -Surely none of the people in the house would be there after the supper -we had. - -I went and sniffed under the door. There was a smell there; a strong -smell like beggars and poor people. It smelled like Jenkins. It was. - - - -CHAPTER XIV HOW WE CAUGHT THE BURGLAR - -WHAT was the wretch doing in the house with my dear Miss Laura? I -thought I would go crazy. I scratched at the door, and barked and -yelped. I sprang up on it, and though I was quite a heavy dog by this -time, I felt as light as a feather. - -It seemed to me that I would go mad if I could not get that door open. -Every few seconds I stopped and put my head down to the doorsill to -listen. There was a rushing about inside the room, and a chair fell -over, and some one seemed to be getting out of the window. - -This made me worse than ever. I did not stop to think that I was only a -medium-sized dog, and that Jenkins would probably kill me, if he got -his hands on me. I was so furious that I thought only of getting hold of -him. - -In the midst of the noise that I made, there was a screaming and a -rushing to and fro upstairs. I ran up and down the hall, and half-way -up the steps and back again. I did not want Miss Laura to come down, -but how was I to make her understand? There she was, in her white gown, -leaning over the railing, and holding back her long hair, her face a -picture of surprise and alarm. - -"The dog has gone mad," screamed Miss Bessie. "Nurse, pour a pitcher of -water on him." - -The nurse was more sensible. She ran downstairs, her night-cap flying, -and a blanket that she had seized from her bed, trailing behind her. -"There are thieves in the house," she shouted at the top of her voice, -"and the dog has found it out." - -She did not go near the dining-room door, but threw open the front one, -crying, "Policeman! Policeman! help, help, thieves, murder!" - -Such a screaming as that old woman made! She was worse than I was. I -dashed by her, out through the hall door, and away down to the gate, -where I heard some one running. I gave a few loud yelps to call Jim, and -leaped the gate as the man before me had done. - -There was something savage in me that night. I think it must have been -the smell of Jenkins. I felt as if I could tear him to pieces. I have -never felt so wicked since. I was hunting him, as he had hunted me and -my mother, and the thought gave me pleasure. - -Old Jim soon caught up with me, and I gave him a push with my nose, to -let him know I was glad he had come. We rushed swiftly on, and at the -corner caught up with the miserable man who was running away from us. - -I gave an angry growl, and jumping up, bit at his leg. He turned around, -and though it was not a very bright night, there was light enough for me -to see the ugly face of my old master. - -He seemed so angry to think that Jim and I dared to snap at him. He -caught up a handful of stones, and with some bad words threw them at us. -Just then, away in front of us, was a queer whistle, and then another -one like it behind us. Jenkins made a strange noise in his throat, and -started to run down a side street, away from the direction of the two -whistles. - -I was afraid that he was going to get away, and though I could not hold -him, I kept springing up on him, and once I tripped him up. Oh, how -furious he was! He kicked me against the side of a wall, and gave me two -or three hard blows with a stick that he caught up, and kept throwing -stones at me. - -I would not give up, though I could scarcely see him for the blood that -was running over my eyes. Old Jim got so angry whenever Jenkins touched -me, that he ran up behind and nipped his calves, to make him turn on -him. - -Soon Jenkins came to a high wall, where he stopped, and with a hurried -look behind, began to climb over it. The wall was too high for me to -jump. He was going to escape. What shall I do? I barked as loudly as I -could for some one to come, and then sprang up and held him by the leg -as he was getting over. - -I had such a grip, that I went over the wall with him, and left Jim on -the other side. Jenkins fell on his face in the earth. Then he got up, -and with a look of deadly hatred on his face, pounced upon me. If help -had not come, I think he would have dashed out my brains against the -wall, as he dashed out my poor little brothers' against the horse's -stall. But just then there was a running sound. Two men came down the -street and sprang upon the wall, just where Jim was leaping up and down -and barking in distress. - -I saw at once by their uniform and the clubs in their hands, that they -were policemen. In one short instant they had hold of Jenkins. He gave -up then, but he stood snarling at me like an ugly dog. "If it hadn't -been for that cur, I'd never a been caught. Why," and he staggered back -and uttered a bad word, "it's me own dog." - -"More shame to you," said one of the policemen, sternly; "what have -you been up to at this time of night, to have your own dog and a quiet -minister's spaniel dog a chasing you through the street?" - -Jenkins began to swear and would not tell them anything. There was a -house in the garden, and just at this minute some one opened a window -and called out: "Hallo, there, what are you doing?" - -"We're catching a thief, sir," said one of the policemen, "leastwise -I think that's what he's been up to. Could you throw us down a bit of -rope? We've no handcuffs here, and one of us has to go to the lock-up -and the other to Washington street, where there's a woman yelling blue -murder; and hurry up, please, sir." - -The gentleman threw down a rope, and in two minutes Jenkins' wrists were -tied together, and he was walked through the gate, saying bad words as -fast as he could to the policeman who was leading him. "Good dogs," -said the other policeman to Jim and me. Then he ran up the street and we -followed him. - -As we hurried along Washington street, and came near our house, we saw -lights gleaming through the darkness, and heard people running to and -fro. The nurse's shrieking had alarmed the neighborhood. The Morris boys -were all out in the street only half clad and shivering with cold, and -the Drurys' coachman, with no hat on, and his hair sticking up all over -his head, was running about with a lantern. - -The neighbors' houses were all lighted up, and a good many people were -hanging out of their windows and opening their doors, and calling to -each other to know what all this noise meant. - -When the policeman appeared with Jim and me at his heels, quite a crowd -gathered around him to hear his part of the story. Jim and I dropped on -the ground panting as hard as we could, and with little streams of water -running from our tongues. We were both pretty well used up. Jim's back -was bleeding in several places from the stones that Jenkins had thrown -at him., and I was a mass of bruises. - -Presently we were discovered, and then what a fuss was made over us. -"Brave dogs! noble dogs!" everybody said, and patted and praised us. We -were very proud and happy, and stood up and wagged our tails, at least -Jim did, and I wagged what I could. Then they found what a state we were -in. Mrs. Morris cried, and catching me up in her arms, ran in the house -with me, and Jack followed with old Jim. - -We all went into the parlor. There was a good fire there, and Miss Laura -and Miss Bessie were sitting over it. They sprang up when they saw us, -and right there in the parlor washed our wounds, and made us lie down by -the fire. - -"You saved our silver, brave Joe," said Miss Bessie; "just wait till my -papa and mamma come home, and see what they will say. Well, Jack, what -is the latest?" as the Morris boys came trooping into the room. - -"The policeman has been questioning your nurse, and examining the -dining-room, and has gone down to the station to make his report, and do -you know what he has found out?" said Jack, excitedly. - -"No what?" asked Miss Bessie. - -"Why that villain was going to burn your house." - -Miss Bessie gave a little shriek. "Why, what do you mean?" - -"Well," said Jack, "they think by what they discovered, that he planned -to pack his bag with silver, and carry it off; but just before he did so -he would pour oil around the room, and set fire to it, so people would -not find out that he had been robbing you." - -"Why we might have all been burned to death," said Miss Bessie. "He -couldn't burn the dining-room without setting fire to the rest of the -house. - -"Certainly not," said Jack, "that shows what a villain he is." - -"Do they know this for certain, Jack?" asked Miss Laura. - -"Well, they suppose so; they found some bottles of oil along with the -bag he had for the silver." - -"How horrible! You darling old Joe, perhaps you saved our lives," and -pretty Miss Bessie kissed my ugly, swollen head. I could do nothing but -lick her little hand, but always after that I thought a great deal of -her. - -It is now some years since all this happened, and I might as well tell -the end of it. The next day the Drurys came home, and everything was -found out about Jenkins. The night they left Fairport he had been -hanging about the station. He knew just who were left in the house, for -he had once supplied them with milk, and knew all about their family. He -had no customers at this time, for after Mr. Harry rescued me, and that -piece came out in the paper about him, he found that no one would take -milk from him. His wife died, and some kind people put his children -in an asylum, and he was obliged to sell Toby and the cows. Instead -of learning a lesson from all this, and leading a better life, he kept -sinking lower. - -He was, therefore, ready for any kind of mischief that turned up, and -when he saw the Drurys going away in the train, he thought he would -steal a bag of silver from their sideboard, then set fire to the house, -and run away and hide the silver. After a time he would take it to some -city and sell it. - -He was made to confess all this. Then for his wickedness he was sent to -prison for ten years, and I hope he will get to be a better man there, -and be one after he comes out. - -I was sore and stiff for a long time, and one day Mrs. Drury came over -to see me. She did not love dogs as the Morrises did. She tried to, but -she could not. - -Dogs can see fun in things as well as people can, and I buried my muzzle -in the hearth-rug, so that she would not see how I was curling up my lip -and smiling at her. - -"You are a good dog," she said, slowly. "You are" then she stopped, and -could not think of anything else to say to me. I got up and stood in -front of her, for a well-bred dog should not lie down when a lady -speaks to him. I wagged my body a little, and I would gladly have said -something to help her out of her difficulty, but I couldn't. If she had -stroked me it might have helped her; but she didn't want to touch me, -and I knew she didn't want me to touch her, so I just stood looking at -her. - -"Mrs. Morris," she said, turning from me with a puzzled face, "I don't -like animals, and I can't pretend to, for they always find me out; but -can't you let that dog know that I shall feel eternally grateful to him -for saving not only our property for that is a trifle but my darling -daughter from fright and annoyance, and a possible injury or loss of -life?" - -"I think he understands," said Mrs. Morris. "He is a very wise dog." And -smiling in great amusement, she called me to her and put my paws on -her lap. "Look at that lady, Joe. She is pleased with you for driving -Jenkins away from her house. You remember Jenkins?" - -I barked angrily and limped to the window. - -"How intelligent he is," said Mrs. Drury. "My husband has sent to New -York for a watchdog, and he says that from this on our house shall never -be without one. Now I must go. Your dog is happy, Mrs. Morris, and I can -do nothing for him, except to say that I shall never forget him, and I -wish he would come over occasionally to see us. Perhaps when we get -our dog he will. I shall tell my cook whenever she sees him to give him -something to eat. This is a souvenir for Laura of that dreadful night. I -feel under a deep obligation to you, so I am sure you will allow her to -accept it." Then she gave Mrs. Morris a little box and went away. - -When Miss Laura came in, she opened the box, and found in it a handsome -diamond ring. On the inside of it was engraved: "Laura, in memory of -December 20th, 18. From her grateful friend, Bessie." - -The diamond was worth hundreds of dollars, and Mrs. Morris told Miss -Laura that she had rather she would not wear it then, while she was a -young girl. It was not suitable for her, and she knew Mrs. Drury did not -expect her to do so. She wished to give her a valuable present, and this -would always be worth a great deal of money. - - - -CHAPTER XV OUR JOURNEY TO RIVERDALE - -EVERY other summer, the Morris children were sent to some place in the -country, so that they could have a change of air, and see what country -life was like. As there were so many of them they usually went different -ways. - -The summer after I came to them, Jack and Carl went to an uncle in -Vermont, Miss Laura went to another in New Hampshire, and Ned and Willie -went to visit a maiden aunt who lived in the White Mountains. - -Mr. and Mrs. Morris stayed at home. Fairport was a lovely place in -summer, and many people came there to visit. - -The children took some of their pets with them, and the others they left -at home for their mother to take care of. She never allowed them to take -a pet animal anywhere, unless she knew it would be perfectly welcome. -"Don't let your pets be a worry to other people," she often said to -them, "or they will dislike them and you too." - -Miss Laura went away earlier than the others, for she had run down -through the spring, and was pale and thin. One day, early in June, we -set out. I say "we," for after my adventure with Jenkins, Miss Laura -said that I should never be parted from her. If any one invited her to -come and see them and didn't want me, she would stay at home. - -The whole family went to the station to see us off. They put a chain on -my collar and took me to the baggage office and got two tickets for me. -One was tied to my collar and the other Miss Laura put in her purse. -Then I was put in a baggage car and chained in a corner. I heard Mr. -Morris say that as we were only going a short distance, it was not worth -while to get an express ticket for me. - -There was a dreadful noise and bustle at the station. Whistles were -blowing and people were rushing up and down the platform. Some men were -tumbling baggage so fast into the car where I was, that I was afraid -some of it would fall on me. - -For a few minutes Miss Laura stood by the door and looked in, but soon -the men had piled up so many boxes and trunks that she could not see me. -Then she went away. Mr. Morris asked one of the men to see that I did -not get hurt, and I heard some money rattle. Then he went away too. - -It was the beginning of June and the weather had suddenly become very -hot. We had a long, cold spring, and not being used to the heat, it -seemed very hard to bear. - -Before the train started, the doors of the baggage car were closed, and -it became quite dark inside. The darkness, and the heat, and the close -smell, and the noise, as we went rushing along, made me feel sick and -frightened. - -I did not dare to lie down, but sat up trembling and wishing that we -might soon come to Riverdale Station. But we did not get there for some -time, and I was to have a great fright. - -I was thinking of all the stories that I knew of animals traveling. In -February, the Drurys' Newfoundland watch-dog, Pluto, had arrived from -New York, and he told Jim and me that he had a miserable journey. - -A gentleman friend of Mr. Drury's had brought him from New York. He saw -him chained up in his car, and he went into his Pullman, first tipping -the baggage-master handsomely to look after him. Pluto said that the -baggage-master had a very red nose, and he was always getting drinks -for himself when they stopped at a station, but he never once gave him a -drink or anything to eat, from the time they left New York till they -got to Fairport. When the train stopped there, and Pluto's chain was -unfastened, he sprang out on the platform and nearly knocked Mr. Drury -down. He saw some snow that had sifted through the station roof and he -was so thirsty that he began to lick it up. When the snow was all gone, -he jumped up and licked the frost on the windows. - -Mr. Drury's friend was so angry. He found the baggage-master, and said -to him: "What did you mean, by coming into my car every few hours, to -tell me that the dog was fed, and watered, and comfortable? I shall -report you." - -He went into the office at the station, and complained of the man, and -was told that he was a drinking man, and was going to be dismissed. - -I was not afraid of suffering like Pluto, because it was only going to -take us a few hours to get to Riverdale. I found that we always went -slowly before we came in to a station, and one time when we began to -slacken speed I thought that surely we must be at our journey's end. -However, it was not Riverdale. The car gave a kind of jump, then there -was a crashing sound ahead, and we stopped. - -I heard men shouting and running up and down, and I wondered what had -happened. It was all dark and still in the car, and nobody came in, but -the noise kept up outside, and I knew something had gone wrong with the -train. Perhaps Miss Laura had got hurt. Something must have happened to -her or she would come to me. - -I barked and pulled at my chain till my neck was sore, but for a long, -long time I was there alone. The men running about outside must have -heard me. If ever I hear a man in trouble and crying for help I go to -him and see what he wants. - -After such a long time that it seemed to me it must be the middle of the -night, the door at the end of the car opened, and a man looked in "This -is all through baggage for New York, miss," I heard him say; "they -wouldn't put your dog in here." - -"Yes, they did I am sure this is the car," I heard in the voice I -knew so well, "and won't you get him out, please? He must be terribly -frightened." - -The man stooped down and unfastened my chain, grumbling to himself -because I had not been put in another car. "Some folks tumble a dog -round as if he was a chunk of coal," he said, patting me kindly. - -I was nearly wild with delight to get with Miss Laura again, but I had -barked so much, and pressed my neck so hard with my collar that my voice -was all gone. I fawned on her, and wagged myself about, and opened and -shut my mouth, but no sound came out of it. - -It made Miss Laura nervous. She tried to laugh and cry at the same time, -and then bit her lip hard, and said: "Oh, Joe, don't." - -"He's lost his bark, hasn't he?" said the man, looking at me curiously. - -"It is a wicked thing to confine an animal in a dark and closed car," -said Miss Laura, trying to see her way down the steps through her tears. - -The man put out his hand and helped her. "He's not suffered much, miss," -he said; "don't you distress yourself. Now if you'd been a brakeman on a -Chicago train, as I was a few years ago, and seen the animals run in for -the stock yards, you might talk about cruelty. Cars that ought to hold -a certain number of pigs, or sheep, or cattle, jammed full with twice -as many, and half of 'em thrown out choked and smothered to death. I've -seen a man running up and down, raging and swearing because the railway -people hadn't let him get in to tend to his pigs on the road." - -Miss Laura turned and looked at the man with a very white face. "Is it -like that now?" she asked. - -"No, no," he said, hastily. "It's better now. They've got new -regulations about taking care of the stock; but mind you, miss, the -cruelty to animals isn't all done on the railways. There's a great lot -of dumb creatures suffering all round everywhere, and if they could -speak 'twould be a hard showing for some other people besides the -railway men." - -He lifted his cap and hurried down the platform, and Miss Laura, her -face very much troubled, picked her way among the bits of coal and wood -scattered about the platform, and went into the waiting room of the -little station. - -She took me up to the filter and let some water run in her hand, and -gave it to me to lap. Then she sat down and I leaned my head against her -knees, and she stroked my throat gently. - -There were some people sitting about the room, and, from their talk, I -found out what had taken place. There had been a freight train on a -side track at this station, waiting for us to get by. The switchman had -carelessly left the switch open after this train went by, and when we -came along afterward, our train, instead of running in by the platform, -went crashing into the freight train. If we had been going fast, great -damage might have been done. As it was, our engine was smashed so badly -that it could not take us on; the passengers were frightened; and we -were having a tedious time waiting for another engine to come and take -us to Riverdale. - -After the accident, the trainmen were so busy that Miss Laura could get -no one to release me. - -While I sat by her, I noticed an old gentleman staring at us. He was -such a queer-looking old gentleman. He looked like a poodle. He had -bright brown eyes, and a pointed face, and a shock of white hair that he -shook every few minutes. He sat with his hands clasped on the top of his -cane, and he scarcely took his eyes from Miss Laura's face. Suddenly he -jumped up and came and sat down beside her. - -"An ugly dog, that," he said, pointing to me. - -Most young ladies would have resented this, but Miss Laura only looked -amused. "He seems beautiful to me," she said, gently. - -"H'm, because he's your dog," said the old man, darting a sharp look at -me. "What's the matter with him?" - -"This is his first journey by rail, and he's a little frightened." - -"No wonder. The Lord only knows the suffering of animals in -transportation," said the old gentleman. "My dear young lady, if you -could see what I have seen, you'd never eat another bit of meat all the -days of your life." - -Miss Laura wrinkled her forehead. "I know I have heard," she faltered. -"It must be terrible." - -"Terrible it's awful," said the gentleman. "Think of the cattle on the -western plains. Choked with thirst in summer, and starved and frozen in -winter. Dehorned and goaded on to trains and steamers. Tossed about and -wounded and suffering on voyages. Many of them dying and being -thrown into the sea. Others landed sick and frightened. Some of them -slaughtered on docks and wharves to keep them from dropping dead in -their tracks. What kind of food does their flesh make? It's rank poison. -Three of my family have died of cancer. I am a vegetarian." - -The strange old gentleman darted from his seat, and began to pace up and -down the room. I was very glad he had gone, for Miss Laura hated to hear -of cruelty of any kind, and her tears were dropping thick and fast on my -brown coat. - -The gentleman had spoken very loudly, and every one in the room had -listened to what he said. Among them, was a very young man, with a cold, -handsome face. He looked as if he was annoyed that the older man should -have made Miss Laura cry. - -"Don't you think, sir," he said, as the old gentleman passed near him -in walking up and down the floor, "that there is a great deal of mock -sentiment about this business of taking care of the dumb creation? They -were made for us. They've got to suffer and be killed to supply our -wants. The cattle and sheep, and other animals would over-run the earth, -if we didn't kill them." - -"Granted," said the old man, stopping right in front of him. "Granted, -young man, if you take out that word suffer. The Lord made the sheep, -and the cattle, and the pigs. They are his creatures just as much as we -are. We can kill them, but we've no right to make them suffer." - -"But we can't help it, sir." - -"Yes, we can, my young man. It's a possible thing to raise healthy -stock, treat it kindly, kill it mercifully, eat it decently. When men do -that I, for one, will cease to be a vegetarian. You're only a boy. You -haven't traveled as I have. I've been from one end of this country to -the other. Up north, down south, and out west, I've seen sights that -made me shudder, and I tell you the Lord will punish this great American -nation if it doesn't change its treatment of the dumb animals committed -to its care." - -The young man looked thoughtful, and did not reply. A very sweet-faced -old lady sitting near him answered the old gentleman. I don't think I -have ever seen such a fine-looking old lady as she was. Her hair was -snowy white, and her face was deeply wrinkled, yet she was tall and -stately, and her expression was as pleasing as my dear Miss Laura's. - -"I do not think we are a wicked nation," she said, softly. "We are a -younger nation than many of the nations of the earth, and I think that -many of our sins arise from ignorance and thoughtlessness." - -"Yes, madame, yes, madame," said the fiery old gentleman, staring hard -at her. "I agree with you there." - -She smiled very pleasantly at him and went on. "I, too, have been a -traveler, and I have talked to a great many wise and good people on the -subject of the cruel treatment of animals, and I find that many of them -have never thought about it. They, themselves, never knowingly ill-treat -a dumb creature, and when they are told stories of inhuman conduct, they -say in surprise, 'Why, these things surely can't exist!' You see they -have never been brought in contact with them. As soon as they learn -about them, they begin to agitate and say, 'We must have this thing -stopped. Where is the remedy?'" - -"And what is it, what is it, madame, in your opinion?" said the old -gentleman, pawing the floor with impatience. - -"Just the remedy that I would propose for the great evil of -intemperance," said the old lady, smiling at him. "Legislation and -education. Legislation for the old and hardened, and education for -the young and tender. I would tell the schoolboys and schoolgirls that -alcohol will destroy the framework of their beautiful bodies, and that -cruelty to any of God's living creatures will blight and destroy their -innocent young souls." - -The young man spoke again. "Don't you think," he said, "that you -temperance and humane people lay too much stress upon the education of -our youth in all lofty and noble sentiments? The human heart will always -be wicked. Your Bible tells you that, doesn't it? You can't educate all -the badness out of children." - -"We don't expect to do that," said the old lady, turning her pleasant -face toward him; "but even if the human heart is desperately wicked, -shouldn't that make us much more eager to try to educate, to ennoble, -and restrain? However, as far as my experience goes, and I have lived in -this wicked world for seventy-five years, I find that the human heart, -though wicked and cruel, as you say, has yet some soft and tender spots, -and the impressions made upon it in youth are never, never effaced. Do -you not remember better than anything else, standing at your mother's -knee the pressure of her hand, her kiss on your forehead?" - -By this time our engine had arrived. A whistle was blowing, and nearly -every one was rushing from the room, the impatient old gentleman among -the first. Miss Laura was hurriedly trying to do up her shawl strap, and -I was standing by, wishing that I could help her. The old lady and the -young man were the only other people in the room, and we could not help -hearing what they said. - -"Yes, I do," he said in a thick voice, and his face got very red. "She -is dead now I have no mother." - -"Poor boy!" and the old lady laid her hand on his shoulder. They were -standing up, and she was taller than he was. "May God bless you. I know -you have a kind heart. I have four stalwart boys, and you remind me of -the youngest. If you are ever in Washington come to see me." She gave -him some name, and he lifted his hat and looked as if he was astonished -to find out who she was. Then he, too, went away, and she turned to Miss -Laura. "Shall I help you, my dear?" - -"If you please," said my young mistress. "I can't fasten this strap." - -In a few seconds the bundle was done up, and we were joyfully hastening -to the train. It was only a few miles to Riverdale, so the conductor let -me stay in the car with Miss Laura. She spread her coat out on the seat -in front of her, and I sat on it and looked out of the car window as -we sped along through a lovely country, all green and fresh in the June -sunlight. How light and pleasant this car was so different from the -baggage car. What frightens an animal most of all things, is not to see -where it is going, not to know what is going to happen to it. I think -that they are very like human beings in this respect. - -The lady had taken a seat beside Miss Laura, and as we went along, she -too looked out of the window and said in a low voice: - - "What is so rare as a day in June, - Then, if ever, come perfect days." - -"That is very true," said Miss Laura; "how sad that the autumn must -come, and the cold winter." - -"No, my dear, not sad. It is but a preparation for another summer." - -"Yes, I suppose it is," said Miss Laura. Then she continued a little -shyly, as her companion leaned over to stroke my cropped ears, "You seem -very fond of animals." - -"I am, my dear. I have four horses, two cows, a tame squirrel, three -dogs, and a cat." - -"You should be a happy woman," said Miss Laura, with a smile. - -"I think I am. I must not forget my horned toad, Diego, that I got in -California. I keep him in the green-house, and he is very happy catching -flies and holding his horny head to be scratched whenever any one comes -near." - -"I don't see how any one can be unkind to animals," said Miss Laura, -thoughtfully. - -"Nor I, my dear child. It has always caused me intense pain to witness -the torture of dumb animals. Nearly seventy years ago, when I was a -little girl walking the streets of Boston, I would tremble and grow -faint at the cruelty of drivers to over-loaded horses. I was timid and -did not dare speak to them. Very often, I ran home and flung myself in -my mother's arms with a burst of tears, and asked her if nothing could -be done to help the poor animals. With mistaken, motherly kindness, she -tried to put the subject out of my thoughts. I was carefully guarded -from seeing or hearing of any instances of cruelty. But the animals -went on suffering just the same, and when I became a woman, I saw my -cowardice. I agitated the matter among my friends, and told them -that our whole dumb creation was groaning together in pain, and would -continue to groan, unless merciful human beings were willing to help -them. I was able to assist in the formation of several societies for the -prevention of cruelty to animals, and they have done good service. Good -service not only to the horses and cows, but to the nobler animal, -man. I believe that in saying to a cruel man, 'You shall not overwork, -torture, mutilate, nor kill your animal, or neglect to provide it with -proper food and shelter,' we are making him a little nearer the kingdom -of heaven than he was before. For 'Whatsoever a man soweth, that shall -he also reap.' If he sows seeds of unkindness and cruelty to man and -beast, no one knows what the blackness of the harvest will be. His poor -horse, quivering under a blow, is not the worst sufferer. Oh, if people -would only understand that their unkind deeds will recoil upon their -own heads with tenfold force but, my dear child, I am fancying that I -am addressing a drawing-room meeting and here we are at your station. -Good-bye; keep your happy face and gentle ways. I hope that we may meet -again some day." She pressed Miss Laura's hand, gave me a farewell pat, -and the next minute we were outside on the platform, and she was smiling -through the window at us. - - - -CHAPTER XVI DINGLEY FARM - -"MY dear niece," and a stout, middle-aged woman, with a red, lively -face, threw both her arms around Miss Laura. "How glad I am to see you, -and this is the dog. Good Joe, I have a bone waiting for you. Here is -Uncle John." - -A tall, good-looking man stepped up and put out a big hand, in which my -mistress' little fingers were quite swallowed up. "I am glad to see you, -Laura. Well, Joe, how d'ye do, old boy? I've heard about you." - -It made me feel very welcome to have them both notice me, and I was so -glad to be out of the train that I frisked for joy around their feet as -we went to the wagon. It was a big double one, with an awning over it -to shelter it from the sun's rays, and the horses were drawn up in the -shade of a spreading tree. They were two powerful black horses, and as -they had no blinders on, they could see us coming. Their faces lighted -up and they moved their ears and pawed the ground, and whinnied when Mr. -Wood went up to them. They tried to rub their heads against him, and -I saw plainly that they loved him. "Steady there, Cleve and Pacer," he -said; "now back, back up." - -By this time, Mrs. Wood, Miss Laura and I were in the wagon. Then Mr. -Wood jumped in, took up the reins, and off we went. How the two black -horses did spin along! I sat on the seat beside Mr. Wood, and sniffed in -the delicious air, and the lovely smell of flowers and grass. How glad -I was to be in the country! What long races I should have in the green -fields. I wished that I had another dog to run with me, and wondered -very much whether Mr. Wood kept one. I knew I should soon find out, -for whenever Miss Laura went to a place she wanted to know what animals -there were about. - -We drove a little more than a mile along a country road where there were -scattered houses. Miss Laura answered questions about her family, and -asked questions about Mr. Harry, who was away at college and hadn't got -home. I don't think I have said before that Mr. Harry was Mrs. Wood's -son. She was a widow with one son when she married Mr. Wood, so that -Mr. Harry, though the Morrises called him cousin, was not really their -cousin. - -I was very glad to hear them say that he was soon coming home, for I had -never forgotten that but for him I should never have known Miss Laura -and gotten into my pleasant home. - -By-and-by, I heard Miss Laura say: "Uncle John, have you a dog?" - -"Yes, Laura," he said; "I have one to-day, but I sha'n't have one -to-morrow." - -"Oh, uncle, what do you mean?" she asked. - -"Well, Laura," he replied, "you know animals are pretty much like -people. There are some good ones and some bad ones. Now, this dog is a -snarling, cross-grained, cantankerous beast, and when I heard Joe was -coming, I said: 'Now we'll have a good dog about the place, and here's -an end to the bad one.' So I tied Bruno up, and to-morrow I shall shoot -him. Something's got to be done, or he'll be biting some one." - -"Uncle," said Miss Laura, "people don't always die when they are bitten -by dogs, do they?" - -"No, certainly not," replied Mr. Wood. "In my humble opinion there's a -great lot of nonsense talked about the poison of a dog's bite and people -dying of hydrophobia. Ever since I was born I've had dogs snap at me -and stick their teeth in my flesh; and I've never had a symptom of -hydrophobia, and never intend to have. I believe half the people that -are bitten by dogs frighten themselves into thinking they are fatally -poisoned. I was reading the other day about the policemen in a big city -in England that have to catch stray dogs, and dogs supposed to be mad, -and all kinds of dogs, and they get bitten over and over again, and -never think anything about it. But let a lady or a gentleman walking -along the street have a dog bite them, and they worry themselves till -their blood is in a fever, and they have to hurry across to France to -get Pasteur to cure them. They imagine they've got hydrophobia, -and they've got it because they imagine it. I believe if I fixed my -attention on that right thumb of mine, and thought I had a sore there, -and picked at it and worried it, in a short time a sore would come, and -I'd be off to the doctor to have it cured. At the same time dogs have no -business to bite, and I don't recommend any one to get bitten." - -"But, uncle," said Miss Laura, "isn't there such a thing as -hydrophobia?" - -"Oh, yes; I dare say there is. I believe that a careful examination of -the records of death reported in Boston from hydrophobia for the space -of thirty-two years, shows that two people actually died from it. Dogs -are like all other animals. They're liable to sickness, and they've -got to be watched. I think my horses would go mad if I starved them, or -over-fed them, or over-worked them, or let them stand in laziness, -or kept them dirty, or didn't give them water enough. They'd get some -disease, anyway. If a person owns an animal, let him take care of it, -and it's all right. If it shows signs of sickness, shut it up and watch -it. If the sickness is incurable, kill it. Here's a sure way to prevent -hydrophobia. Kill off all ownerless and vicious dogs. If you can't do -that, have plenty of water where they can get at it. A dog that has -all the water he wants, will never go mad. This dog of mine has not one -single thing the matter with him but pure ugliness. Yet, if I let him -loose, and he ran through the village with his tongue out, I'll warrant -you there'd be a cry of 'mad dog!' However, I'm going to kill him. I've -no use for a bad dog. Have plenty of animals, I say, and treat them -kindly, but if there's a vicious one among them, put it out of the way, -for it is a constant danger to man and beast. It's queer how ugly some -people are about their dogs. They'll keep them no matter how they worry -other people, and even when they're snatching the bread out of their -neighbors' mouths. But I say that is not the fault of the four-legged -dog. A human dog is the worst of all. There's a band of sheep-killing -dogs here in Riverdale, that their owners can't, or won't, keep out of -mischief. Meek-looking fellows some of them are. The owners go to bed at -night, and the dogs pretend to go, too; but when the house is quiet and -the family asleep, off goes Rover or Fido to worry poor, defenseless -creatures that can't defend themselves. Their taste for sheep's blood is -like the taste for liquor in men, and the dogs will travel as far to get -their fun, as the men will travel for theirs. They've got it in them, -and you can't get it out." - -"Mr. Windham cured his dog," said Mrs. Wood. - -Mr. Wood burst into a hearty laugh. "So he did, so he did. I must tell -Laura about that. Windham is a neighbor of ours, and last summer I kept -telling him that his collie was worrying my Shropshires. He wouldn't -believe me, but I knew I was right, and one night when Harry was home, -he lay in wait for the dog and lassoed him. I tied him up and sent for -Windham. You should have seen his face, and the dog's face. He said two -words, 'You scoundrel!' and the dog cowered at his feet as if he had -been shot. He was a fine dog, but he'd got corrupted by evil companions. -Then Windham asked me where my sheep were. I told him in the pasture. -He asked me if I still had my old ram Bolton. I said yes, and then he -wanted eight or ten feet of rope. I gave it to him, and wondered what -on earth he was going to do with it. He tied one end of it to the dog's -collar, and holding the other in his hand, set out for the pasture. He -asked us to go with him, and when he got there, he told Harry he'd like -to see him catch Bolton. There wasn't any need to catch him, he'd come -to us like a dog. Harry whistled, and when Bolton came up, Windham -fastened the rope's end to his horns, and let him go. The ram was -frightened and ran, dragging the dog with him. We let them out of the -pasture into an open field, and for a few minutes there was such a -racing and chasing over that field as I never saw before. Harry leaned -up against the bars and laughed till the tears rolled down his cheeks. -Then Bolton got mad, and began to make battle with the dog, pitching -into him with his horns. We soon stopped that, for the spirit had all -gone out of Dash. Windham unfastened the rope, and told him to get home, -and if ever I saw a dog run, that one did. Mrs. Windham set great store -by him, and her husband didn't want to kill him. But he said Dash had -got to give up his sheep-killing, if he wanted to live. That cured him. -He's never worried a sheep from that day to this, and if you offer him -a bit of sheep's wool now, he tucks his tail between his legs, and runs -for home. Now, I must stop my talk, for we're in sight of the farm. -Yonder's our boundary line, and there's the house. You'll see a -difference in the trees since you were here before." - -We had come to a turn in the road where the ground sloped gently upward. -We turned in at the gate, and drove between rows of trees up to a long, -low; red house, with a veranda all round it. There was a wide lawn in -front, and away on our right were the farm buildings. They too, were -painted red, and there were some trees by them that Mr. Wood called his -windbreak, because they kept the snow from drifting in the winter time. - -I thought it was a beautiful place. Miss Laura had been here before, but -not for some years, so she, too, was looking about quite eagerly. - -"Welcome to Dingley Farm, Joe," said Mrs. Wood, with her jolly laugh, as -she watched me jump from the carriage seat to the ground. "Come in, and -I'll introduce you to pussy." - -"Aunt Hattie, why is the farm called Dingley Farm?" said Miss Laura, as -we went into the house. "It ought to be Wood Farm." - -"Dingley is made out of 'dingle,' Laura. You know that pretty hollow -back of the pasture? It is what they call a 'dingle.' So this farm was -called Dingle Farm till the people around about got saying 'Dingley' -instead. I suppose they found it easier. Why, here is Lolo coming to see -Joe." - -Walking along the wide hall that ran through the house was a large -tortoise-shell cat. She had a prettily marked face, and she was waving -her large tail like a flag, and mewing kindly to greet her mistress. But -when she saw me what a face she made. She flew on the hall table, and -putting up her back till it almost lifted her feet from the ground, -began to spit at me and bristle with rage. - -"Poor Lolo," said Mrs. Wood, going up to her. "Joe is a good dog, and -not like Bruno. He won't hurt you." - -I wagged myself about a little, and looked kindly at her, but she did -nothing but say bad words to me. It was weeks and weeks before I made -friends with that cat. She was a young thing, and had known only one -dog, and he was a bad one, so she supposed all dogs were like him. - -There was a number of rooms opening off the hall, and one of them was -the dining room where they had tea. I lay on a rug outside the door and -watched them. There was a small table spread with a white cloth, and it -had pretty dishes and glassware on it, and a good many different kinds -of things to eat. A little French girl, called Adele, kept coming and -going from the kitchen to give them hot cakes, and fried eggs, and hot -coffee. As soon as they finished their tea, Mrs. Wood gave me one of the -best meals that I ever had in my life. - - - -CHAPTER XVII MR. WOOD AND HIS HORSES - -THE morning after we arrived in Riverdale, I was up very early and -walking around the house. I slept in the woodshed, and could run -outdoors whenever I liked. - -The woodshed was at the back of the house and near it was the tool -shed. Then there was a carriage house, and a plank walk leading to the -barnyard. - -I ran up this walk, and looked into the first building I came to. It was -the horse stable. A door stood open, and the morning sun was glancing -in. There were several horses there, some with their heads toward me, -and some with their tails. I saw that instead of being tied up, there -were gates outside their stalls, and they could stand in any way they -liked. - -There was a man moving about at the other end of the stable, and long -before he saw me, I knew that it was Mr. Wood. What a nice, clean stable -he had! There was always a foul smell coming out of Jenkins's stable, -but here the air seemed as pure inside as outside. There was a number -of little gratings in the wall to let in the fresh air, and they were so -placed that drafts would not blow on the horses. Mr. Wood was going from -one horse to another, giving them hay, and talking to them in a cheerful -voice. At last he spied me, and cried out, "The top of the morning to -you, Joe! You are up early. Don't come too near the horses, good dog," -as I walked in beside him; "they might think you are another Bruno, and -give you a sly bite or kick. I should have shot him long ago. 'Tis -hard to make a good dog suffer for a bad one, but that's the way of the -world. Well, old fellow, what do you think of my horse stable? Pretty -fair, isn't it?" And Mr. Wood went on talking to me as he fed and -groomed his horses, till I soon found out that his chief pride was in -them. - -I like to have human beings talk to me. Mr. Morris often reads his -sermons to me, and Miss Laura tells me secrets that I don't think she -would tell to any one else. - -I watched Mr. Wood carefully, while he groomed a huge, gray cart-horse, -that he called Dutchman. He took a brush in his right hand, and a -curry-comb in his left, and he curried and brushed every part of the -horse's skin, and afterward wiped him with a cloth. "A good grooming is -equal to two quarts of oats, Joe," he said to me. - -Then he stooped down and examined the horse's hoofs. "Your shoes are -too heavy, Dutchman," he said; "but that pig-headed blacksmith thinks he -knows more about horses than I do. 'Don't cut the sole nor the frog,' -I say to him. 'Don't pare the hoof so much, and don't rasp it; and fit -your shoe to the foot, and not the foot to the shoe,' and he looks as if -he wanted to say, 'Mind your own business.' We'll not go to him again. -''Tis hard to teach an old dog new tricks.' I got you to work for me, -not to wear out your strength in lifting about his weighty shoes." - -Mr. Wood stopped talking for a few minutes, and whistled a tune. Then -he began again. "I've made a study of horses, Joe. Over forty years I've -studied them, and it's my opinion that the average horse knows more than -the average man that drives him. When I think of the stupid fools that -are goading patient horses about, beating them and misunderstanding -them, and thinking they are only clods of earth with a little life in -them, I'd like to take their horses out of the shafts and harness them -in, and I'd trot them off at a pace, and slash them, and jerk them, -till I guess they'd come out with a little less patience than the animal -does. - -"Look at this Dutchman see the size of him. You'd think he hadn't any -more nerves than a bit of granite. Yet he's got a skin as sensitive as a -girl's. See how he quivers if I run the curry comb too harshly over him. -The idiot I got him from didn't know what was the matter with him. He'd -bought him for a reliable horse, and there he was, kicking and stamping -whenever the boy went near him. 'Your boy's got too heavy a hand, Deacon -Jones,' said I, when he described the horse's actions to me. 'You may -depend upon it, a four-legged creature, unlike a two-legged one, has a -reason for everything he does.' 'But he's only a draught horse,' said -Deacon Jones. 'Draught horse or no draught horse,' said I, 'you're -describing a horse with a tender skin to me, and I don't care if he's as -big as an elephant.' Well, the old man grumbled and said he didn't -want any thoroughbred airs in his stable, so I bought you, didn't I, -Dutchman?" and Mr. Wood stroked him kindly and went to the next stall. - -In each stall was a small tank of water with a sliding cover, and I -found out afterward that these covers were put on when a horse came in -too heated to have a drink. At any other time, he could drink all he -liked. Mr. Wood believed in having plenty of pure water for all his -animals and they all had their own place to get a drink. - -Even I had a little bowl of water in the woodshed, though I could easily -have run up to the barnyard when I wanted a drink. As soon as I came, -Mrs. Wood asked Adele to keep it there for me and when I looked up -gratefully at her, she said: "Every animal should have its own feeding -place and its own sleeping place, Joe; that is only fair." - -The next horses Mr. Wood groomed were the black ones, Cleve and Pacer. -Pacer had something wrong with his mouth, and Mr. Wood turned back his -lips and examined it carefully. This he was able to do, for there were -large windows in the stable and it was as light as Mr. Wood's house was. - -"No dark corners here, eh Joe!" said Mr. Wood, as he came out of the -stall and passed me to get a bottle from a shelf. "When this stable was -built, I said no dirt holes for careless men here. I want the sun to -shine in the corners, and I don't want my horses to smell bad smells, -for they hate them, and I don't want them starting when they go into -the light of day, just because they've been kept in a black hole of a -stable, and I've never had a. sick horse yet." - -He poured something from a bottle into a saucer and went back to Pacer -with it. I followed him and stood outside. Mr. Wood seemed to be washing -a sore in the horse's mouth. Pacer winced a little, and Mr. Wood said: -"Steady, steady, my beauty; 'twill soon be over." - -The horse fixed his intelligent eyes on his master and looked as if he -knew that he was trying to do him good. - -"Just look at these lips, Joe," said Mr. Wood "delicate and fine like -our own, and yet there are brutes that will jerk them as if they were -made of iron. I wish the Lord would give horses voices just for one -week. I tell you they'd scare some of us. Now, Pacer, that's over. I'm -not going to dose you much, for I don't believe in it. If a horse has -got a serious trouble, get a good horse doctor, say I. If it's a simple -thing, try a simple remedy. There's been many a good horse drugged and -dosed to death. Well, Scamp, my beauty, how are you, this morning?" - -In the stall next to Pacer, was a small, jet-black mare, with a lean -head, slender legs, and a curious restless manner. She was a regular -greyhound of a horse, no spare flesh, yet wiry and able to do a great -deal of work. She was a wicked looking little thing, so I thought I had -better keep at a safe distance from her heels. - -Mr. Wood petted her a great deal and I saw that she was his favorite. -"Saucebox," he exclaimed, when she pretended to bite him, "you know if -you bite me, I'll bite back again. I think I've conquered you," he said, -proudly, as he stroked her glossy neck; "but what a dance you led me. -Do you remember how I bought you for a mere song, because you had a -bad habit of turning around like a flash in front of anything that -frightened you, and bolting off the other way? And how did I cure you, -my beauty? Beat you and make you stubborn? Not I. I let you go round and -round; I turned you and twisted you, the oftener the better for me, till -at last I got it into your pretty head that turning and twisting was -addling your brains, and you had better let me be master. - -"You've minded me from that day, haven't you? Horse, or man, or dog -aren't much good till they learn to obey, and I've thrown you down and -I'll do it again if you bite me, so take care." - -Scamp tossed her pretty head, and took little pieces of Mr. Wood's shirt -sleeve in her mouth, keeping her cunning brown eye on him as if to see -how far she could go. But she did not bite him. I think she loved him, -for when he left her she whinnied shrilly, and he had to go back and -stroke and caress her. - -After that I often used to watch her as she went about the farm. She -always seemed to be tugging and striving at her load, and trying to step -out fast and do a great deal of work. Mr. Wood was usually driving -her. The men didn't like her, and couldn't manage her. She had not been -properly broken in. - -After Mr. Wood finished his work he went and stood in the doorway. There -were six horses altogether: Dutchman, Cleve, Pacer, Scamp, a bay mare -called Ruby, and a young horse belonging to Mr. Harry, whose name was -Fleetfoot. - -"What do you think of them all?" said Mr. Wood, looking down at me. -"A pretty fine-looking lot of horses, aren't they? Not a thoroughbred -there, but worth as much to me as if each had pedigree as long as this -plank walk. There's a lot of humbug about this pedigree business in -horses. Mine have their manes and tails anyway, and the proper use of -their eyes, which is more liberty than some thoroughbreds get. - -"I'd like to see the man that would persuade me to put blinders or -check-reins or any other instrument of torture on my horses. Don't the -simpletons know that blinders are the cause of well, I wouldn't like to -say how many of our accidents, Joe, for fear you'd think me extravagant. -and the check-rein drags up a horse's head out of its fine natural -curve and presses sinews, bones, and joints together, till the horse is -well-nigh mad. Ah, Joe, this is a cruel world for man or beast. You're -a standing token of that, with your missing ears and tail. And now -I've got to go and be cruel, and shoot that dog. He must be disposed of -before anyone else is astir. How I hate to take life." - -He sauntered down the walk to the tool shed, went in and soon came out -leading a large, brown dog by a chain. This was Bruno. He was snapping -and snarling and biting at his chain as he went along, though Mr. Wood -led him very kindly, and when he saw me he acted as if he could have -torn me to pieces. After Mr. Wood took him behind the barn, he came back -and got his gun. I ran away so that I would not hear the sound of it, -for I could not help feeling sorry for Bruno. - -Miss Laura's room was on one side of the house, and in the second story. -There was a little balcony outside it, and when I got near I saw that -she was standing out on it wrapped in a shawl. Her hair was streaming -over her shoulders, and she was looking down into the garden where there -were a great many white and yellow flowers in bloom. - -I barked, and she looked at me. "Dear old Joe, I will get dressed and -come down." - -She hurried into her room, and I lay on the veranda till I heard her -step. Then I jumped up. She unlocked the front door, and we went for -a walk down the lane to the road until we heard the breakfast bell. As -soon as we heard it we ran back to the house, and Miss Laura had such an -appetite for her breakfast that her aunt said the country had done her -good already. - - - -CHAPTER XVIII MRS. WOOD'S POULTRY - -AFTER breakfast, Mrs. Wood put on a large apron, and going into the -kitchen, said: "Have you any scraps for the hens, Adele? Be sure and not -give me anything salty." - -The French girl gave her a dish of food, then Mrs. Wood asked Miss Laura -to go and see her chickens, and away we went to the poultry house. - -On the way we saw Mr. Wood. He was sitting on the step of the tool shed -cleaning his gun "Is the dog dead?" asked Miss Laura. - -"Yes," he said. - -She sighed and said: "Poor creature, I am sorry he had to be killed. -Uncle, what is the most merciful way to kill a dog? Sometimes, when they -get old, they should be put out of the way." - -"You can shoot them," he said, "or you can poison them. I shot Bruno -through his head into his neck. There's a right place to aim at. It's a -little one side of the top of the skull. If you'll remind me I'll show -you a circular I have in the house. It tells the proper way to kill -animals. The American Humane Education Society in Boston puts it out, -and it's a merciful thing. - -"You don't know anything about the slaughtering of animals, Laura, and -it's well you don't. There's an awful amount of cruelty practiced, and -practiced by some people that think themselves pretty good. I wouldn't -have my lambs killed the way my father had his for a kingdom. I'll never -forget the first one I saw butchered. I wouldn't feel worse at a hanging -now. And that white ox, Hattie you remember my telling you about him. He -had to be killed, and father sent for the butcher. I was only a lad, -and I was all of a shudder to have the life of the creature I had known -taken from him. The butcher, stupid clown, gave him eight blows before -he struck the right place. The ox bellowed, and turned his great black -eyes on my father, and I fell in a faint." - -Miss Laura turned away, and Mrs. Wood followed her, saying: "If ever you -want to kill a cat, Laura, give it cyanide of potassium. I killed a poor -old sick cat for Mrs. Windham the other day. We put half a teaspoonful -of pure cyanide of potassium in a long-handled wooden spoon, and dropped -it on the cat's tongue, as near the throat as we could. Poor pussy she -died in a few seconds. Do you know, I was reading such a funny thing the -other day about giving cats medicine. They hate it, and one can scarcely -force it into their mouths on account of their sharp teeth. The way is, -to smear it on their sides, and they lick it off. A good idea, isn't it? -Here we are at the hen douse, or rather one of the hen houses." - -"Don't you keep your hens all together?" asked Miss Laura. - -"Only in the winter time," said Mrs. Wood, "I divide my flock in the -spring. Part of them stay here and part go to the orchard to live in -little movable houses that we put about in different places. I feed each -flock morning and evening at their own little house. They know they'll -get no food even if they come to my house, so they stay at home. And -they know they'll get no food between times, so all day long they pick -and scratch in the orchard, and destroy so many bugs and insects that it -more than pays for the trouble of keeping them there." - -"Doesn't this flock want to mix up with the other?" asked Miss Laura, as -she stepped into the little wooden house. - -"No; they seem to understand. I keep my eye on them for a while at -first, and they soon find out that they're not to fly either over the -garden fence or the orchard fence. They roam over the farm and pick up -what they can get. There's a good deal of sense in hens, if one manages -them properly. I love them because they are such good mothers." - -We were in the little wooden house by this time, and I looked around it -with surprise. It was better than some of the poor people's houses in -Fairport. The walls were white and clean, so were the little ladders -that led up to different kinds of roosts, where the fowls sat at night. -Some roosts were thin and round, and some were broad and flat. Mrs. Wood -said that the broad ones were for a heavy fowl called the Brahma. Every -part of the little house was almost as light as it was outdoors, on -account of the large windows. - -Miss Laura spoke of it. "Why, auntie, I never saw such a light hen -house." - -Mrs. Wood was diving into a partly shut-in place, where it was not so -light, and where the nests were. She straightened herself up, her face -redder than ever, and looked at the windows with a pleased smile. - -"Yes, there's not a hen house in New Hampshire with such big windows. -Whenever I look at them, I think of my mother's hens, and wish that they -could have had a place like this. They would have thought themselves in -a hen's paradise. When I was a girl we didn't know that hens loved light -and heat, and all winter they used to sit in a dark hencoop, and the -cold was so bad that their combs would freeze stiff, and the tops of -them would drop off. We never thought about it. If we'd had any sense, -we might have watched them on a fine day go and sit on the compost heap -and sun themselves, and then have concluded that if they liked light -and heat outside, they'd like it inside. Poor biddies, they were so cold -that they wouldn't lay us any eggs in winter." - -"You take a great interest in your poultry, don't you, auntie?" said -Miss Laura. - -"Yes, indeed, and well I may. I'll show you my brown Leghorn, Jenny, -that lay eggs enough in a year to pay for the newspapers I take to keep -myself posted in poultry matters. I buy all my own clothes with my hen -money, and lately I've started a bank account, for I want to save up -enough to start a few stands of bees. Even if I didn't want to be kind -to my hens, it would pay me to be so for sake of the profit they yield. -Of course they're quite a lot of trouble. Sometimes they get vermin on -them, and I have to grease them and dust carbolic acid on them, and try -some of my numerous cures. Then I must keep ashes and dust wallows for -them and be very particular about my eggs when hens are sitting, and see -that the hens come off regularly for food and exercise. Oh, there are -a hundred things I have to think of, but I always say to any one that -thinks of raising poultry: 'If you are going into the business for the -purpose of making money, it pays to take care of them.'" - -"There's one thing I notice," said Miss Laura, "and that is that your -drinking fountains must be a great deal better than the shallow pans -that I have seen some people give their hens water in." - -"Dirty things they are," said Mrs. Wood; "I wouldn't use one of them. I -don't think there is anything worse for hens than drinking dirty water. -My hens must have as clean water as I drink myself, and in winter I heat -it for them. If it's poured boiling into the fountains in the morning, -it keeps warm till night. Speaking of shallow drinking dishes, I -wouldn't use them, even before I ever heard of a drinking fountain. John -made me something that we read about. He used to take a powder keg and -bore a little hole in the side, about an inch from the top, then fill -it with water, and cover with a pan a little larger round than the keg. -Then he turned the keg upside down, without taking away the pan. The -water ran into the pan only as far as the hole in the keg, and it would -have to be used before more would flow in. Now let us go and see my -beautiful, bronze turkeys. They don't need any houses, for they roost in -the trees the year round." - -We found the flock of turkeys, and Miss Laura admired their changeable -colors very much. Some of them were very large, and I did not like them, -for the gobblers ran at me, and made a dreadful noise in their throats. - -Afterward, Mrs. Wood showed us some ducks that she had shut up in a -yard. She said that she was feeding them on vegetable food, to give -their flesh a pure flavor, and by-and-by she would send them to market -and get a high price for them. - -Every place she took us to was as clean as possible. "No one can be -successful in raising poultry in large numbers," she said, "unless they -keep their quarters clean and comfortable." - -As yet we had seen no hens, except a few on the nests, and Miss Laura -said, "Where are they? I should like to see them." - -"They are coming," said Mrs. Wood. "It is just their breakfast time, and -they are as punctual as clockwork. They go off early in the morning, to -scratch about a little for themselves first." - -As she spoke she stepped off the plank walk and looked off towards the -fields. - -Miss Laura burst out laughing. Away beyond the barns the hens were -coming. Seeing Mrs. Wood standing there, they thought they were -late, and began to run and fly, jumping over each other's backs, and -stretching out their necks, in a state of great excitement. Some of -their legs seemed slicking straight out behind. It was very funny to see -them. - -They were a fine-looking lot of poultry, mostly white, with glossy -feathers and bright eyes. They greedily ate the food scattered to them -and Mrs. Wood said, "They think I've changed their breakfast time, and -to-morrow they'll come a good bit earlier. And yet some people say hens -have no sense." - - - -CHAPTER XIX A BAND OF MERCY - -A FEW evenings after we came to Dingley Farm, Mrs. Wood and Miss Laura -were sitting out on the veranda, and I was lying at their feet. - -"Auntie," said Miss Laura, "What do those letters mean on that silver -pin that you wear with that piece of ribbon?" - -"You know what the white ribbon means, don't you?" asked Mrs. Wood. - -"Yes; that you are a temperance woman, doesn't it?" - -"It does; and the star pin means that I am a member of a Band of Mercy. -Do you know what a Band of Mercy is?" - -"No," said Miss Laura. - -"How strange! I should think that you would have several in Fairport. A -cripple boy, the son of a Boston artist, started this one here. It has -done a great deal of good. There is a meeting to-morrow, and I will take -you to it if you like." - -It was on Monday that Mrs. Wood had this talk with Miss Laura, and the -next afternoon, after all the work was done, they got ready to go to the -village. - -"May Joe go?" asked Miss Laura. - -"Certainly," said Mrs. Wood; "he is such good dog that he won't be any -trouble." - -I was very glad to hear this, and trotted along by them down the lane to -the road. The lane was a very cool and pleasant place. There were tall -trees growing on each side, and under them, among the grass, pretty wild -flowers were peeping out to look at us as we went by. - -Mrs. Wood and Miss Laura talked all the way about the Band of Mercy. -Miss Laura was much interested, and said that she would like to start -one in Fairport. - -"It is a very simple thing," said Mrs. Wood. "All you have to do is to -write the pledge at the top of a piece of paper: 'I will try to be kind -to all harmless living creatures, and try to protect them from cruel -usage,' and get thirty people to sign it. That makes a band. - -"I have formed two or three bands by keeping slips of paper ready, -and getting people that come to visit me to sign them. I call them -'Corresponding Bands,' for they are too far apart to meet. I send the -members 'Band of Mercy' papers, and I get such nice letters from them, -telling me of kind things they do for animals. - -"A Band of Mercy in a place is a splendid thing. There's the greatest -difference in Riverdale since this one was started. A few years ago, -when a man beat or raced his horse, and any one interfered, he said: -'This horse is mine; I'll do what I like with him.' Most people thought -he was right, but now they're all for the poor horse, and there isn't a -man anywhere around who would dare to abuse any animal. - -"It's all the children. They're doing a grand work, and I say it's a -good thing for them. Since we've studied this subject, it's enough to -frighten one to read what is sent us about our American boys and -girls. Do you know, Laura, that with all our brag about our schools and -colleges, that really are wonderful, we're turning out more criminals -than any other civilized country in the world, except Spain and Italy? -The cause of it is said to be lack of proper training for the youth of -our land. Immigration has something to do with it, too. We're thinking -too much about educating the mind, and forgetting about the heart and -soul. So I say now, while we've got all our future population in our -schools, saints and sinners, good people and bad people, let us try to -slip in something between the geography, and history, and grammar that -will go a little deeper, and touch them so much, that when they are -grown up and go out in the world, they will carry with them lessons of -love and good-will to men. - -"A little child is such a tender thing. You can bend it anyway you like. -Speaking of this heart education of children, as set over against mind -education, I see that many school-teachers say that there is nothing -better than to give them lessons on kindness to animals. Children who -are taught to love and protect dumb creature, will be kind to their -fellow-men when they grow up." - -I was very much pleased with this talk between Mrs. Wood and Miss Laura, -and kept close to them so that I would not miss a word. - -As we went along, houses began to appear here and there, set back from -the road among the trees. Soon they got quite close together, and I saw -some shops. - -This was the village of Riverdale, and nearly all the buildings were -along this winding street. The river was away back of the village. We -had already driven there several times. - -We passed the school on our way. It was a square, white building, -standing in the middle of a large yard. Boys and girls, with their arms -full of books, were hurrying down the steps and coming into the street. -Two quite big boys came behind us, and Mrs. Wood turned around and spoke -to them, and asked if they were going to the Band of Mercy. - -"Oh, yes, ma'am," said the younger one "I've got a recitation, don't you -remember?" - -"Yes, yes; excuse me for forgetting," said Mrs. Wood, with her jolly -laugh. "And here are Dolly, and Jennie, and Martha," she went on, as -some little girls came running out of a house that we were passing. - -The little girls joined us and looked so hard at my head and stump of a -tail, and my fine collar, that I felt quite shy, and walked with my head -against Miss Laura's dress. - -She stooped down and patted me, and then I felt as if I didn't care how -much they stared. Miss Laura never forgot me. No matter how earnestly -she was talking, or playing a game, or doing anything, she always -stopped occasionally to give me word or look, to show that she knew I -was near. - -Mrs. Wood paused in front of a building on the main street. A great many -boys and girls were going in, and we went with them. We found ourselves -in a large room, with a platform at one end of it. There were some -chairs on this platform and a small table. - -A boy stood by this table with his hand on a bell. Presently he rang it, -and then every one kept still. Mrs. Wood whispered to Miss Laura that -this boy was the president of the band, and the young man with the -pale face and curly hair who sat in front of him was Mr. Maxwell, the -artist's son, who had formed this Band of Mercy. - -The lad who presided had a ringing, pleasant voice. He said they would -begin their meeting by singing a hymn. There was an organ near the -platform and a young girl played on it, while all the other boys and -girls stood up, and sang very sweetly and clearly. - -After they had sung the hymn, the president asked for the report of -their last meeting. - -A little girl, blushing and hanging her head, came forward, and read -what was written on a paper that she held in her hand. - -The president made some remarks after she had finished, and then every -one had to vote. It was just like a meeting of grown people, and I was -surprised to see how good those children were. They did not frolic nor -laugh, but all seemed sober and listened attentively. - -After the voting was over, the president called upon John Turner to give -a recitation This was the boy whom we saw on the way there. He walked -up to the platform, made a bow, and said that he had learned two stories -for his recitation, out of the paper, "Dumb Animals." One story was -about a horse, and the other was about a dog, and he thought that they -were two of the best animal stories on record. He would tell the horse -story first. - -"A man in Missouri had to go to Nebraska to see about some land. He went -on horseback, on a horse that he had trained himself, and that came at -his whistle like a dog. On getting into Nebraska, he came to a place -where there were two roads. One went by a river, and the other went over -the hill. The man saw that the travel went over the hill, but thought -he'd take the river road. He didn't know that there was a quicksand -across it, and that people couldn't use it in spring and summer. There -used to be a sign board to tell strangers about it, but it had been -taken away. The man got off his horse to let him graze, and walked along -till he got so far ahead of the horse that he had to sit down and wait -for him. Suddenly he found that he was on a quicksand. His feet had sunk -in the sand, and he could not get them out. He threw himself down, and -whistled for his horse, and shouted for help, but no one came. He could -hear some young people singing out on the river, but they could not -hear him. The terrible sand drew him in almost to his shoulders, and he -thought he was lost. At that moment the horse came running up, and stood -by his master. The man was too low down to get hold of the saddle or -bridle, so he took hold of the horse's tail, and told him to go. The -horse gave an awful pull, and landed his master on safe ground." - -Everybody clapped his hands, and stamped when this story was finished, -and called out: "The dog story the dog story!" - -The boy bowed and smiled, and began again. "You all know what a -'round-up' of cattle is, so I need not explain. Once a man down south -was going to have one, and he and his boys and friends were talking -it over. There was an ugly, black steer in the herd, and they were -wondering whether their old yellow dog would be able to manage him. The -dog's name was Tige, and he lay and listened wisely to their talk. The -next day there was a scene of great confusion. The steer raged and tore -about, and would allow no one to come within whip touch of him. Tige, -who had always been brave, skulked about for a while, and then, as if -he had got up a little spirit, he made a run at the steer. The steer -sighted him, gave a bellow, and, lowering his horns, ran at him. Tige -turned tail, and the young men that owned him were frantic. They'd been -praising him, and thought they were going to have it proven false. Their -father called out: 'Don't shoot Tige, till you see where he's running -to.' The dog ran right to the cattle pen. The steer was so enraged -that he never noticed where he was going, and dashed in after him. Tige -leaped the wall, and came back to the gate, barking and yelping for the -men to come and shut the steer in. They shut the gate and petted Tige, -and bought him a collar with a silver plate." - -The boy was loudly cheered, and went to his seat. The president said he -would like to have remarks made about these two stories. - -Several children put up their hands, and he asked each one to speak -in turn. One said that if that man's horse had had a docked tail, his -master wouldn't have been able to reach it, and would have perished. -Another said that if the man hadn't treated his horse kindly, he never -would have come at his whistle, and stood over him to see what he could -do to help him. A third child said that the people on the river weren't -as quick at hearing the voice of the man in trouble as the horse was. - -When this talk was over, the president called for some stories of -foreign animals. - -Another boy came forward, made his bow, and said, in a short, abrupt -voice, "My uncle's name is Henry Worthington. He is an Englishman, -and once he was a soldier in India. One day when he was hunting in the -Punjab, he saw a mother monkey carrying a little dead baby monkey. Six -months after, he was in the same jungle. Saw same monkey still carrying -dead baby monkey, all shriveled up. Mother monkey loved her baby monkey, -and wouldn't give it up." - -The boy went to his seat, and the president, with a queer look in his -face, said, "That's a very good story, Ronald if it is true." - -None of the children laughed, but Mrs. Wood's face got like a red poppy, -and Miss Laura bit her lip, and Mr. Maxwell buried his head in his arms, -his whole frame shaking. - -The boy who told the story looked very angry. He jumped up again. "My -uncle's a true man, Phil Dodge, and never told a lie in his life." - -The president remained standing, his face a deep scarlet, and a tall boy -at the back of the room got up and said, "Mr. President, what would -be impossible in this climate, might be possible in a hot country like -India. Doesn't heat sometimes draw up and preserve things?" - -The president's face cleared. "Thank you for the suggestion," he said. -"I don't want to hurt anybody's feelings; but you know there is a rule -in the band that only true stories are to be told here. We have five -more minutes for foreign stories. Has any one else one?" - - - -CHAPTER XX STORIES ABOUT ANIMALS - -A SMALL girl, with twinkling eyes and a merry face, got up, just behind -Miss Laura, and made her way to the front. "My dranfadder says," she -began, in a piping little voice, "dat when he was a little boy his -fadder brought him a little monkey from de West Indies. De naughty boys -in de village used to tease de little monkey, and he runned up a tree -one day. Dey was drowing stones at him, and a man dat was paintin' de -house druv 'em away. De monkey runned down de tree, and shook hands wid -de man. My dranfadder saw him," she said, with a shake of her head at -the president, as if she was afraid he would doubt her. - -There was great laughing and clapping of hands when this little girl -took her seat, and she hopped right up again and ran back. "Oh, I -fordot," she went on, in her squeaky, little voice, "dat my dranfadder -says dat afterward de monkey upset de painter's can of oil, and rolled -in it, and den jumped down in my dranfadder's flour barrel." - -The president looked very much amused, and said, "We have had some good -stories about monkeys, now let us have some more about our home animals. -Who can tell us another story about a horse?" - -Three or four boys jumped up, but the president said they would take one -at a time. The first one was this: A Riverdale boy was walking along -the bank of a canal in Hoytville. He saw a boy driving two horses, which -were towing a canal-boat. The first horse was lazy, and the boy got -angry and struck him several times over the head with his whip. The -Riverdale boy shouted across to him, begging him not to be so cruel; -but the boy paid no attention. Suddenly the horse turned, seized his -tormentor by the shoulder, and pushed him into the canal. The water was -not deep, and the boy, after floundering about for a few seconds, came -out dripping with mud and filth, and sat down on the tow path, and -looked at the horse with such a comical expression, that the Riverdale -boy had to stuff his handkerchief in his mouth to keep from laughing. - -"It is to be hoped that he would learn a lesson," said the president, -"and be kinder to his horse in the future. Now, Bernard Howe, your -story." - -The boy was a brother to the little girl who had told the monkey story, -and he, too, had evidently been talking to his grandfather. He told two -stories, and Miss Laura listened eagerly, for they were about Fairport. - -The boy said that when his grandfather was young, he lived in Fairport, -Maine. On a certain day he stood in the market square to see their first -stage-coach put together. It had come from Boston in pieces, for there -was no one in Fairport that could make one. The coach went away up into -the country one day, and came back the next. For a long time no one -understood driving the horses properly, and they came in day after day -with the blood streaming from them. The whiffletree would swing round -and hit them, and when their collars were taken off, their necks would -be raw and bloody. After a time, the men got to understand how to drive -a coach, and the horses did not suffer so much. - -The other story was about a team-boat, not a steamboat. More than -seventy years ago, they had no steamers running between Fairport and the -island opposite where people went for the summer, but they had what they -called a team-boat, that is, a boat with machinery to make it go, that -could be worked by horses. There were eight horses that went around and -around, and made the boat go. One afternoon, two dancing masters, who -were wicked fellows, that played the fiddle, and never went to church on -Sundays, got on the boat, and sat just where the horses had to pass them -as they went around. - -Every time the horses went by, they jabbed them with their penknives. -The man who was driving the horses at last saw the blood dripping from -them, and the dancing masters were found out. Some young men on the boat -were so angry that they caught up a rope's end, and gave the dancing -masters a lashing, and then threw them into the water and made them swim -to the island. - -When this boy took a seat, a young girl read some verses that she had -clipped from a newspaper: - - "Don't kill the toads, the ugly toads, - That hop around your door; - Each meal the little toad doth eat - A hundred bugs or more. - - "He sits around with aspect meek, - Until the bug hath neared, - Then shoots he forth his little tongue - Like lightning double-geared. - - "And then he soberly doth wink, - And shut his ugly mug, - And patiently doth wait until - There comes another bug." - -Mr. Maxwell told a good dog story after this. He said the president need -not have any fears as to its truth, for it had happened in his boarding -house in the village, and he had seen it himself. Monday, the day -before, being wash-day, his landlady lady had put out a large washing. -Among the clothes on the line was a gray flannel shirt belonging to her -husband. The young dog belonging to the house had pulled the shirt from -the line and torn it to pieces. The woman put it aside and told him -master would beat him. When the man came home to his dinner, he showed -the dog the pieces of the shirt, and gave him a severe whipping. The dog -ran away, visited all the clothes lines in the village, till he found a -gray shirt very like his master's. He seized it and ran home, laying it -at his master's; feet, joyfully wagging his tail meanwhile. - -Mr. Maxwell's story done, a bright-faced boy, called Simon Grey, got up -and said, "You all know our old gray horse Ned. Last week father -sold him to a man in Hoytville, and I went to the station when he was -shipped. He was put in a box car. The doors were left a little open to -give him air, and were locked in that way. There was a narrow, sliding -door, four feet from the floor of the car, and, in some way or other, -old Ned pushed this door open, crawled through it, and tumbled out on -the ground. When I was coming from school, I saw him walking along the -track. He hadn't hurt himself, except for a few cuts. He was glad to see -me, and followed me home. He must have gotten off the train when it was -going full speed, for he hadn't been seen at any of the stations, and -the trainmen were astonished to find the doors locked and the car empty, -when they got to Hoytville. Father got the man who bought him to release -him from his bargain, for he says if Ned is so fond of Riverdale, he -shall stay here." - -The president asked the boys and girls to give three cheers for old Ned, -and then they had some more singing. After all had taken their seats, he -said he would like to know what the members had been doing for animals -during the past fortnight. - -One girl had kept her brother from shooting two owls that came about -their barnyard. She told him that the owls would destroy the rats and -mice that bothered him in the barn, but if he hunted them, they would go -to the woods. - -A boy said that he had persuaded some of his friends who were going -fishing, to put their bait worms into a dish of boiling water to kill -them before they started, and also to promise him that as soon as they -took their fish out of the water, they would kill them by a sharp blow -on the back of the head. They were all the more ready to do this, when -he told them that their fish would taste better when cooked, if they had -been killed as soon as they were taken from the water into the air. - -A little girl had gotten her mother to say that she would never again -put lobsters into cold water and slowly boil them to death. She had also -stopped a man in the street who was carrying a pair of fowls with their -heads down, and asked him if he would kindly reverse their position. -The man told her that the fowls didn't mind, and she pursed up her -small mouth and showed the band how she said to him, "I would prefer -the opinion of the hens." Then she said he had laughed at her, and said, -"Certainly, little lady," and had gone off carrying them as she wanted -him to. She had also reasoned with different boys outside the village -who were throwing stones at birds and frogs, and sticking butterflies, -and had invited them to come to the Band of Mercy. - -This child seemed to have done more than any one else for dumb animals. -She had taken around a petition to the village boys, asking them not to -search for birds' eggs, and she had even gone into her father's stable, -and asked him to hold her up, so that she could look into the horses' -mouths to see if their teeth wanted filing or were decayed. When her -father laughed at her, she told him that horses often suffer terrible -pain from their teeth, and that sometimes a runaway is caused by a metal -bit striking against the exposed nerve in the tooth of a horse that has -become almost frantic with pain. - -She was a very gentle girl, and I think by the way that she spoke that -her father loved her dearly, for she told how much trouble he had taken -to make some tiny houses for her that she wanted for the wrens that came -about their farm, She told him that those little birds are so good at -catching insects that they ought to give all their time to it, and not -have any worry about making houses. Her father made their homes very -small, so that the English sparrows could not get in and crowd them out. - -A boy said that he had gotten a pot of paint, and painted in large -letters on the fences around his father's farm: "Spare the toads, don't -kill the birds. Every bird killed is a loss to the country." - -"That reminds me," said the president, "to ask the girls what they have -done about the millinery business." - -"I have told my mother," said a tall, serious faced girl, "that I think -it is wrong to wear bird feathers, and she has promised to give up -wearing any of them except ostrich plumes." - -Mrs. Wood asked permission to say a few words just here, and the -president said: "Certainly, we are always glad to hear from you." - -She went up on the platform, and faced the roomful of children. "Dear -boys and girls," she began, "I have had some papers sent me from Boston, -giving some facts about the killing of our birds, and I want to state a -few of them to you: You all know that nearly every tree and plant that -grows swarms with insect life, and that they couldn't grow if the birds -didn't eat the insects that would devour their foliage. All day long, -the little beaks of the birds are busy. The dear little rose-breasted -gross-beak carefully examines the potato plants, and picks off the -beetles, the martins destroy weevil, the quail and grouse family eats -the chinchbug, the woodpeckers dig the worms from the trees, and many -other birds eat the flies and gnats and mosquitoes that torment us so. -No flying or crawling creature escapes their sharp little eyes. A great -Frenchman says that if it weren't for the birds human beings would -perish from the face of the earth. They are doing all this for us, and -how are we rewarding them? All over America they are hunted and killed. -Five million birds must be caught every year for American women to wear -in their hats and bonnets. Just think of it, girls. Isn't it dreadful? -Five million innocent, hard-working, beautiful birds killed, that -thoughtless girls and women may ornament themselves with their little -dead bodies. One million bobolinks have been killed in one month near -Philadelphia. Seventy song-birds were sent from one Long Island village -to New York milliners. - -"In Florida, cruel men shoot the mother bird on their nests while they -are rearing their young, because their plumage is prettiest at that -time. The little ones cry pitifully, and starve to death. Every bird -of the rarer kinds that is killed, such as humming birds, orioles and -kingfishers, means the death of several others that is, the young that -starve to death, the wounded that fly away to die, and those whose -plumage is so torn that it is not fit to put in a fine lady's bonnet. In -some cases where birds have gay wings, and the hunters do not wish the -rest of the body, they tear off the wings from the living bird, and -throw it away to die. - -"I am sorry to tell you such painful things, but I think you ought to -know them. You will soon be men and women. Do what you can to stop -this horrid trade. Our beautiful birds are being taken from us, and the -insect pests are increasing. The State of Massachusetts has lost over -one hundred thousand dollars because it did not protect its birds. The -gypsy moth stripped the trees near Boston, and the State had to pay out -all this money, and even then could not get rid of the moths. The birds -could have done it better than the State, but they were all gone. My -last words to you are, 'Protect the birds.'" Mrs. Wood went to her -seat, and though the boys and girls had listened very attentively, none -of them cheered her. Their faces looked sad, and they kept very quiet -for a few minutes. I saw one or two little girls wiping their eyes. I -think they felt sorry for the birds. - -"Has any boy done anything about blinders and check-reins?" asked the -president, after a time. - -A brown-faced boy stood up. "I had a picnic last Monday," he said; -"father let me cut all the blinders off our head-stalls with my -penknife." - -"How did you get him to consent to that?" asked the president. - -"I told him," said the boy, "that I couldn't get to sleep for thinking -of him. You know he drives a good deal late at night. I told him that -every dark night he came from Sudbury I thought of the deep ditch -alongside the road, and wished his horses hadn't blinders on. And every -night he comes from the Junction, and has to drive along the river bank -where the water has washed away the earth till the wheels of the wagon -are within a foot or two of the edge, I wished again that his horses -could see each side of them, for I knew they'd have sense enough to keep -out of danger if they could see it. Father said that might be very true, -and yet his horses had been broken in with blinders, and didn't I think -they would be inclined to shy if he took them off; and wouldn't they be -frightened to look around and see the wagon wheels so near. I told -him that for every accident that happened to a horse without blinders, -several happened to a horse with them; and then I gave him Mr. Wood's -opinion Mr. Wood out at Dingley Farm. He says that the worst thing -against blinders is that a frightened horse never knows when he has -passed the thing that scared him. He always thinks it is behind him. The -blinders are there and he can't see that he has passed it, and he can't -turn his head to have a good look at it. So often he goes tearing madly -on; and sometimes lives are lost all on account of a little bit of -leather fastened over a beautiful eye that ought to look out full and -free at the world. That finished father. He said he'd take off his -blinders, and if he had an accident, he'd send the bill for damages to -Mr. Wood. But we've had no accident. The horses did act rather queerly -at first, and started a little; but they soon got over it, and now they -go as steady without blinders as they ever did with them." - -The boy sat down, and the president said: "I think it is time that the -whole nation threw off this foolishness of half covering their horses' -eyes. Just put your hands up to your eyes, members of the band. Half -cover them, and see how shut in you will feel; and how curious you will -be to know what is going on beside you. Suppose a girl saw a mouse with -her eyes half covered, wouldn't she run?" - -Everybody laughed, and the president asked some one to tell him who -invented blinders. - -"An English nobleman," shouted a boy, "who had a wall-eyed horse! He -wanted to cover up the defect, and I think it is a great shame that all -the American horses have to suffer because that English one had an ugly -eye." - -"So do I," said the president. "Three groans for blinders, boys." - -And the children in the room made three dreadful noises away down in -their throats. Then they had another good laugh, and the president -became sober again. "Seven more minutes," he said; "this meeting has got -to be let out at five sharp." - -A tall girl at the back of the room rose, and said: "My little cousin -has two stories that she would like to tell the band." - -"Very well," said the president; "bring her right along." - -The big girl came forward, leading a tiny child that she placed in -front of the boys and girls. The child stared up into her cousin's face, -turning and twisting her white pinafore through her fingers. Every time -the big girl took her pinafore away from her, she picked it up again. -"Begin, Nannie," said the big girl, kindly. - -"Well, Cousin Eleanor," said the child, "you know Topsy, Graham's pony. -Well, Topsy would run away, and a big, big man came out to papa and said -he would train Topsy. So he drove her every day, and beat her, and beat -her, till he was tired, but still Topsy would run away. Then papa said -he would not have the poor pony whipped so much, and he took her out -a piece of bread every day, and he petted her and now Topsy is very -gentle, and never runs away." - -"Tell about Tiger," said the girl. - -"Well, Cousin Eleanor," said the child, "you know Tiger, our big dog. -He used to be a bad dog, and when Dr. Fairchild drove up to the house he -jumped up and bit at him. Dr. Fairchild used to speak kindly to him, and -throw out bits of meat, and now when he comes, Tiger follows behind and -wags his tail. Now, give me a kiss." - -The girl had to give her a kiss, right up there before every one, and -what a stamping the boys made. The larger girl blushed and hurried back -to her seat, with the child clinging to her hand. - -There was one more story, about a brave Newfoundland dog, that saved -eight lives by swimming out to a wrecked sailing vessel, and getting a -rope by which the men came ashore, and then a lad got up whom they all -greeted with cheers, and cries of, "The Poet! the Poet!" I didn't know -what they meant, till Mrs. Wood whispered to Miss Laura that he was a -boy who made rhymes, and the children had rather hear him speak than -any one else in the room. - -He had a snub nose and freckles, and I think he was the plainest boy -there, but that didn't matter, if the other children loved him. He -sauntered up to the front, with his hands behind his back, and a very -grand manner. - -"The beautiful poetry recited here to-day," he drawled, "put some verses -in my mind that I never had till I came here to-day." Every one present -cheered wildly, and he began in a sing song voice: - - "I am a Band of Mercy boy, - I would not hurt a fly, - I always speak to dogs and cats, - When'er I pass them by. - - "I always let the birdies sing, - I never throw a stone, - I always give a hungry dog - A nice, fat, meaty bone. - - "I wouldn't drive a bob-tailed horse, - Nor hurry up a cow, - I" - -Then he forgot the rest. The boys and girls were so sorry. They called -out, "Pig," "Goat," "Calf," "Sheep," "Hens," "Ducks," and all the other -animals' names they could think of, but none of them was right, and as -the boy had just made up the poetry, no one knew what the next could be. -He stood for a long time staring at the ceiling, then he said, "I guess -I'll have to give it up." - -The children looked dreadfully disappointed. "Perhaps you will remember -it by our next meeting," said the president, anxiously. - -"Possibly," said the boy, "but probably not. I think it is gone forever." -And he went to his seat. - -The next thing was to call for new members. Miss Laura got up and said -she would like to join their Band of Mercy. I followed her up to the -platform, while they pinned a little badge on her, and every one laughed -at me. Then they sang, "God Bless our Native Land," and the president -told us that we might all go home. - -It seemed to me a lovely thing for those children to meet together to -talk about kindness to animals. They all had bright and good faces, and -many of them stopped to pat me as I came out. One little girl gave me a -biscuit from her school bag. - -Mrs. Wood waited at the door till Mr. Maxwell came limping out on his -crutches. She introduced him to Miss Laura, and asked him if he wouldn't -go and take tea with them. He said he would be very happy to do so, -and then Mrs. Wood laughed; and asked him if he hadn't better empty his -pockets first. She didn't want a little toad jumping over her tea table, -as one did the last time he was there. - - - -CHAPTER XXI MR. MAXWELL AND MR. HARRY - -MR. MAXWELL wore a coat with loose pockets, and while she was speaking, -he rested on his crutches, and began to slap them with his hands. "No; -there's nothing here to-day," he said; "I think I emptied my pockets -before I went to the meeting." - -Just as he said that there was a loud squeal: "Oh, my guinea pig," he -exclaimed; "I forgot him," and he pulled out a little spotted creature -a few inches long. "Poor Derry, did I hurt you?" and he soothed it very -tenderly. - -I stood and looked at Mr. Maxwell, for I had never seen any one like -him. He had thick curly hair and a white face, and he looked just like a -girl. While I was staring at him, something peeped up out of one of his -pockets and ran out its tongue at me so fast that I could scarcely see -it, and then drew back again. I was thunderstruck. I had never seen -such a creature before. It was long and thin like a boy's cane, and of -a bright green color like grass, and it had queer shiny eyes. But its -tongue was the strangest part of it. It came and went like lightning. I -was uneasy about it, and began to bark. - -"What's the matter, Joe?" said Mrs. Wood; "the pig won't hurt you." - -But it wasn't the pig I was afraid of, and I kept on barking. And all -the time that strange live thing kept sticking up its head and putting -out its tongue at me, and neither of them noticed it. - -"It's getting on toward six," said Mrs. Wood; "we must be going home. -Come, Mr. Maxwell." - -The young man put the guinea pig in his pocket, picked up his crutches, -and we started down the sunny village street. He left his guinea pig at -his boarding house as he went by, but he said nothing about the other -creature, so I knew he did not know it was there. - -I was very much taken with Mr. Maxwell. He seemed so bright and happy, -in spite of his lameness, which kept him from running about like other -young men. He looked a little older than Miss Laura, and one day, a week -or two later, when they were sitting on the veranda, I heard him tell -her that he was just nineteen. He told her, too, that his lameness made -him love animals. They never laughed at him, or slighted him, or got -impatient, because he could not walk quickly. They were always good to -him, and he said he loved all animals while he liked very few people. - -On this day as he was limping along, he said to Mrs. Wood: "I am getting -more absent-minded every day. Have you heard of my latest escapade?" - -"No," she said. - -"I am glad," he replied. "I was afraid that it would be all over the -village by this time. I went to church last Sunday with my poor guinea -pig in my pocket. He hasn't been well, and I was attending to him -before church, and put him in there to get warm, and forgot about him. -Unfortunately I was late, and the back seats were all full, so I had to -sit farther up than I usually do. During the first hymn I happened to -strike Piggy against the side of the seat. Such an ear-splitting squeal -as he set up. It sounded as if I was murdering him. The people stared -and stared, and I had to leave the church, overwhelmed with confusion." - -Mrs. Wood and Miss Laura laughed, and then they got talking about other -matters that were not interesting to me, so I did not listen. But I kept -close to Miss Laura, for I was afraid that green thing might hurt her. I -wondered very much what its name was. I don't think I should have feared -it so much if I had known what it was. - -"There's something the matter with Joe," said Miss Laura, when we got -into the lane. "What is it, dear old fellow?" She put down her little -hand, and I licked it, and wished so much that I could speak. - -Sometimes I wish very much that I had the gift of speech, and then at -other times I see how little it would profit me, and how many foolish -things I should often say. And I don't believe human beings would love -animals as well, if they could speak. - -When we reached the house, we got a joyful surprise. There was a trunk -standing on the veranda, and as soon as Mrs. Wood saw it, she gave a -little shriek: "My dear boy!" - -Mr. Harry was there, sure enough, and stepped out through the open door. -He took his mother in his arms and kissed her, then he shook hands with -Miss Laura and Mr. Maxwell, who seemed to be an old friend of his. They -all sat down on the veranda and talked, and I lay at Miss Laura's feet -and looked at Mr. Harry. He was such a handsome young man, and had such -a noble face. He was older and graver looking than when I saw him last, -and he had a light, brown mustache that he did not have when he was in -Fairport. - -He seemed very fond of his mother and of Miss Laura, and however grave -his face might be when he was looking at Mr. Maxwell, it always lighted -up when he turned to them. "What dog is that?" he said at last, with a -puzzled face, and pointing to me. - -"Why, Harry," exclaimed Miss Laura, "don't you know Beautiful Joe, that -you rescued from that wretched milkman?" - -"Is it possible," he said, "that this well-conditioned creature is the -bundle of dirty skin and bones that we nursed in Fairport? Come here, -sir. Do you remember me?" - -Indeed I did remember him, and I licked his hands and looked up -gratefully into his face. "You're almost handsome now," he said, -caressing me with a firm, kind hand, "and of a solid build, too. You -look like a fighter but I suppose you wouldn't let him fight, even if he -wanted to, Laura," and he smiled and glanced at her. - -"No," she said; "I don't think I should; but he can fight when the -occasion requires it." And she told him about our night with Jenkins. - -All the time she was speaking, Mr. Harry held me by the paws, and -stroked my body over and over again. When she finished, he put his head -down to me, and murmured, "Good dog," and I saw that his eyes were red -and shining. - -"That's a capital story, we must have it at the Band of Mercy," said Mr. -Maxwell. Mrs. Wood had gone to help prepare the tea, so the two young -men were alone with Miss Laura. When they had done talking about me, she -asked Mr. Harry a number of questions about his college life, and his -trip to New York, for he had not been studying all the time that he was -away. - -"What are you going to do with yourself, Gray, when your college course -is ended?" asked Mr. Maxwell. - -"I am going to settle right down here," said Mr. Harry. - -"What, be a farmer?" asked his friend. - -"Yes; why not?" - -"Nothing, only I imagined that you would take a profession." - -"The professions are overstocked, and we have not farmers enough for the -good of the country. There is nothing like farming, to my mind. In no -other employment have you a surer living. I do not like the cities. -The heat and dust, and crowds of people, and buildings overtopping one -another, and the rush of living, take my breath away. Suppose I did -go to a city. I would sell out my share of the farm, and have a few -thousand dollars. You know I am not an intellectual giant. I would -never distinguish myself in any profession. I would be a poor lawyer or -doctor, living in a back street all the days of my life, and never watch -a tree or flower grow, or tend an animal, or have a drive unless I paid -for it. No, thank you. I agree with President Eliot, of Harvard. He -says scarcely one person in ten thousand betters himself permanently by -leaving his rural home and settling in a city. If one is a millionaire, -city life is agreeable enough, for one can always get away from it; but -I am beginning to think that it is a dangerous thing, in more ways than -one, to be a millionaire. I believe the safety of the country lies in -the hands of the farmers; for they are seldom very poor or very rich. We -stand between the two dangerous classes the wealthy and the paupers." - -"But most farmers lead such a dog's life," said Mr. Maxwell. - -"So they do; farming isn't made one-half as attractive as it should be," -said Mr. Harry. - -Mr. Maxwell smiled. "Attractive farming. Just sketch an outline of that, -will you, Gray?" - -"In the first place," said Mr. Harry, "I would like to tear out of the -heart of the farmer the thing that is as firmly implanted in him as it -is in the heart of his city brother the thing that is doing more to harm -our nation than anything else under the sun." - -"What is that?" asked Mr. Maxwell, curiously. - -"The thirst for gold. The farmer wants to get rich, and he works so hard -to do it that he wears himself out soul and body, and the young people -around him get so disgusted with that way of getting rich, that they -go off to the cities to find out some other way, or at least to enjoy -themselves, for I don't think many young people are animated by a desire -to heap up money." - -Mr. Maxwell looked amused. "There is certainly a great exodus from -country places cityward," he said. "What would be your plan for checking -it?" - -"I would make the farm so pleasant, that you couldn't hire the boys and -girls to leave it. I would have them work, and work hard, too, but when -their work was over, I would let them have some fun. That is what they -go to the city for. They want amusement and society, and to get into -some kind of a crowd when their work is done. The young men and young -women want to get together, as is only natural. Now that could be done -in the country. If farmers would be contented with smaller profits and -smaller farms, their houses could be nearer together. Their children -would have opportunities of social intercourse, there could be societies -and clubs, and that would tend to a distribution of literature. A farmer -ought to take five or six papers and two or three magazines. He would -find it would pay him in the long run, and there ought to be a law made, -compelling him to go to the post office once a day." - -Mr. Maxwell burst out laughing. "And another to make him mend his roads -as well as mend his ways. I tell you Gray, the bad roads would put an -end to all these fine schemes of yours. Imagine farmers calling on each -other on a dark evening after a spring freshet. I can see them mired and -bogged, and the house a mile ahead of them." - -"That is true," said Mr. Harry, "the road question is a serious one. Do -you know how father and I settle it?" - -"No," said Mr. Maxwell. - -"We got so tired of the whole business, and the farmers around here -spent so much time in discussing the art of roadmaking, as to whether -it should be viewed from the engineering point of view, or the farmers' -practical point of view, and whether we would require this number of -stump extractors or that number, and how many shovels and crushers and -ditchers would be necessary to keep our roads in order, and so on, that -we simply withdrew. We keep our own roads in order. Once a year, father -gets a gang of men and tackles every section of the road that borders -upon our land, and our roads are the best around here. I wish the -government would take up this matter of making roads and settle it. If -we had good, smooth, country roads, such as they have in some parts of -Europe, we would be able to travel comfortably over them all through the -year, and our draught animals would last longer, for they would not have -to expend so much energy in drawing their loads." - - - -CHAPTER XXII WHAT HAPPENED AT THE TEA TABLE - -FROM my station under Miss Laura's chair, I could see that all the time -Mr. Harry was speaking, Mr. Maxwell, although he spoke rather as if he -was laughing at him, was yet glancing at him admiringly. - -When Mr. Harry was silent, he exclaimed, "You are right, you are right, -Gray. With your smooth highways, and plenty of schools, and churches, -and libraries, and meetings for young people, you would make country -life a paradise, and I tell you what you would do, too; you would empty -the slums of the cities. It is the slowness and dullness of country -life, and not their poverty alone, that keep the poor in dirty lanes -and tenement houses. They want stir and amusement, too, poor souls, when -their day's work is over. I believe they would come to the country if it -were made more pleasant for them." - -"That is another question," said Mr. Harry, "a burning question in my -mind the labor and capital one. When I was in New York, Maxwell, I was -in a hospital, and saw a number of men who had been day laborers. Some -of them were old and feeble, and others were young men, broken down in -the prime of life. Their limbs were shrunken and drawn. They had been -digging in the earth, and working on high buildings, and confined in -dingy basements, and had done all kinds of hard labor for other men. -They had given their lives and strength for others, and this was the end -of it to die poor and forsaken. I looked at them, and they reminded me -of the martyrs of old. Ground down, living from hand to mouth, separated -from their families in many cases they had had a bitter lot. They had -never had a chance to get away from their fate, and had to work till -they dropped. I tell you there is something wrong. We don't do enough -for the people that slave and toil for us. We should take better care -of them, we should not herd them together like cattle, and when we get -rich, we should carry them along with us, and give them a part of our -gains, for without them we would be as poor as they are." - -"Good, Harry I'm with you there," said voice behind him, and looking -around, we saw Mr. Wood standing in the doorway, gazing down proudly at -his step-son. - -Mr. Harry smiled, and getting up, said, "Won't you have my chair, sir?" - -"No, thank you; your mother wishes us to come to tea. There are muffins, -and you know they won't improve with keeping." - -They all went to the dining-room, and I followed them. On the way, Mr. -Wood said, "Right on top of that talk of yours, Harry, I've got to tell -you of another person who is going to Boston to live." - -"Who is it?" said Mr. Harry. - -"Lazy Dan Wilson. I've been to see him this afternoon. You know his wife -is sick, and they're half starved. He says he is going to the city, for -he hates to chop wood and work, and he thinks maybe he'll get some light -job there." - -Mr. Harry looked grave, and Mr. Maxwell said, "He will starve, that's -what he will do." - -"Precisely," said Mr. Wood, spreading out his hard, brown hands, as -he sat down at the table. "I don't know why it is, but the present -generation has a marvelous way of skimming around any kind of work with -their hands. They'll work their brains till they haven't got any more -backbone than a caterpillar, but as for manual labor, it's old-timey and -out of fashion. I wonder how these farms would ever have been carved -out of the backwoods, if the old Puritans had sat down on the rocks with -their noses in a lot of books, and tried to figure out just how little -work they could do, and yet exist." - -"Now, father," said Mrs. Wood, "you are trying to insinuate that the -present generation is lazy, and I'm sure it isn't. Look at Harry. He -works as hard as you do." - -"Isn't that like a woman?" said Mr. Wood, with a good-natured laugh. -"The present generation consists of her son, and the past of her -husband. I don't think all our young people are lazy, Hattie; but how -in creation, unless the Lord rains down a few farmers, are we going to -support all our young lawyers and doctors? They say the world is getting -healthier and better, but we've got to fight a little more, and raise -some more criminals, and we've got to take to eating pies and doughnuts -for breakfast again, or some of our young sprouts from the colleges will -go a begging." - -"You don't mean to undervalue the advantages of a good education, do -you, Mr. Wood?" said Mr. Maxwell. - -"No, no; look at Harry there. Isn't he pegging away at his studies with -my hearty approval? and he's going to be nothing but a plain, common -farmer. But he'll be a better one than I've been though, because he's -got a trained mind. I found that out when he was a lad going to the -village school. He'd lay out his little garden by geometry, and dig his -ditches by algebra. Education's a help to any man. What I am trying to -get at is this, that in some way or other we're running more to brains -and less to hard work than our forefathers did." - -Mr. Wood was beating on the table with his forefinger while he -talked, and every one was laughing at him. "When you've quite finished -speechifying, John," said Mrs. Wood, "perhaps you'll serve the berries -and pass the cream and sugar Do you get yellow cream like this in the -village, Mr. Maxwell?" - -"No, Mrs. Wood," he said; "ours is a much paler yellow," and then there -was a great tinkling of china, and passing of dishes, and talking and -laughing, and no one noticed that I was not in my usual place in the -hall. I could not get over my dread of the green creature, and I had -crept under the table, so that if it came out and frightened Miss Laura, -I could jump up and catch it. - -When tea was half over, she gave a little cry. I sprang up on her lap, -and there, gliding over the table toward her, was the wicked-looking -green thing. I stepped on the table, and had it by the middle before -it could get to her. My hind legs were in a dish of jelly, and my front -ones were in a plate of cake, and I was very uncomfortable. The tail of -the green thing hung in a milk pitcher, and its tongue was still going -at me, but I held it firmly and stood quite still. - -"Drop it, drop it!" cried Miss Laura, in tones of distress, and -Mr. Maxwell struck me on the back, so I let the thing go, and stood -sheepishly looking about me. Mr. Wood was leaning back in his chair, -laughing with all his might, and Mrs. Wood was staring at her untidy -table with rather a long face. Miss Laura told me to jump on the floor, -and then she helped her aunt to take the spoiled things off the table. - -I felt that I had done wrong, so I slunk out into the hall. Mr. Maxwell -was sitting on the lounge, tearing his handkerchief in strips and tying -them around the creature where my teeth had stuck in. I had been careful -not to hurt it much, for I knew it was a pet of his; but he did not know -that, and scowled at me, saying: "You rascal; you've hurt my poor snake -terribly." - -I felt so badly to hear this that I went and stood with my head in a -corner. I had almost rather be whipped than scolded. After a while, Mr. -Maxwell went back into the room, and they all went on with their tea. -I could hear Mr. Wood's loud, cheery voice, "The dog did quite right. -A snake is mostly a poisonous creature, and his instinct told him to -protect his mistress. Where is he? Joe, Joe!" - -I would not move till Miss Laura came and spoke to me. "Dear old dog," -she whispered, "you knew the snake was there all the time, didn't you?" -Her words made me feel better, and I followed her to the dining room, -where Mr. Wood made me sit beside him and eat scraps from his hand all -through the meal. - -Mr. Maxwell had got over his ill humor, and was chatting in a lively -way. "Good Joe," he said, "I was cross to you, and I beg your pardon It -always riles me to have any of my pets injured. You didn't know my poor -snake was only after something to eat. Mrs. Wood has pinned him in my -pocket so he won't come out again. Do you know where I got that snake, -Mrs. Wood?" - -"No," she said; "you never told me." - -"It was across the river by Blue Ridge," he said. "One day last summer -I was out rowing, and, getting very hot, tied my boat in the shade of -a big tree. Some village boys were in the woods, and, hearing a great -noise, I went to see what it was all about. They were Band of Mercy -boys, and finding a country boy beating a snake to death, they were -remonstrating with him for his cruelty, telling him that some kinds of -snakes were a help to the farmer, and destroyed large numbers of field -mice and other vermin. The boy was obstinate. He had found the snake, -and he insisted upon his right to kill it, and they were having rather a -lively time when I appeared. I persuaded them to make the snake over to -me. Apparently it was already dead. Thinking it might revive, I put it -on some grass in the bow of the boat. It lay there motionless for a long -time, and I picked up my oars and started for home. I had got half way -across the river, when I turned around and saw that the snake was gone. -It had just dropped into the water, and was swimming toward the bank we -had left. I turned and followed it. - -"It swam slowly and with evident pain, lifting its head every few -seconds high above the water, to see which way it was going. On reaching -the bank it coiled itself up, throwing up blood and water. I took it up -carefully, carried it home, and nursed it. It soon got better, and has -been a pet of mine ever since." - -After tea was over, and Mrs. Wood and Miss Laura had helped Adele finish -the work, they all gathered in the parlor. The day had been quite warm, -but now a cool wind had sprung up, and Mr. Wood said that it was blowing -up rain. - -Mrs. Wood said that she thought a fire would be pleasant; so they -lighted the sticks of wood in the open grate, and all sat round the -blazing fire. - -Mr. Maxwell tried to get me to make friends with the little snake that -he held in his hands toward the blaze, and now that I knew that it was -harmless I was not afraid of it; but it did not like me, and put out its -funny little tongue whenever I looked at it. - -By-and-by the rain began to strike against the windows, and Mr. Maxwell -said, "This is just the night for a story. Tell us something out of your -experience, won't you, Mr. Wood?" - -"What shall I tell you?" he said, good-humoredly. He was sitting between -his wife and Mr. Harry, and had his hand on Mr. Harry's knee. - -"Something about animals," said Mr. Maxwell. "We seem to be on that -subject to-day." - -"Well," said Mr. Wood, "I'll talk about something that has been running -in my head for many a day. There is a good deal of talk nowadays about -kindness to domestic animals; but I do not hear much about kindness -to wild ones. The same Creator formed them both. I do not see why you -should not protect one as well as the other. I have no more right to -torture a bear than a cow. Our wild animals around here are getting -pretty well killed off, but there are lots in other places. I used to be -fond of hunting when I was a boy; but I have got rather disgusted with -killing these late years, and unless the wild creatures ran in our -streets, I would lift no hand to them. Shall I tell you some of the -sport we had when I was youngster?" - -"Yes, yes!" they all exclaimed. - - - -CHAPTER XXIII TRAPPING WILD ANIMALS - -"WELL," Mr. Wood began: "I was brought up, as you all know, in the eastern -part of Maine, and we often used to go over into New Brunswick for our -sport. Moose were our best game. Did you ever see one, Laura?" - -"No, uncle," she said. - -"Well, when I was a boy there was no more beautiful sight to me in the -world than a moose with his dusky hide, and long legs, and branching -antlers, and shoulders standing higher than a horse's. Their legs are so -long that they can't eat close to the ground. They browse on the tops of -plants, and the tender shoots and leaves of trees. They walk among -the thick underbrush, carrying their horns adroitly to prevent their -catching in the branches, and they step so well, and aim so true, that -you'll scarcely hear a twig fall as they go. - -"They're a timid creature except at times. Then they'll attack with -hoofs and antlers whatever comes in their way. They hate mosquitoes, -and when they're tormented by them it's just as well to be careful about -approaching them. Like all other creatures, the Lord has put into them -a wonderful amount of sense, and when a female moose has her one or two -fawns she goes into the deepest part of the forest, or swims to islands -in large lakes, till they are able to look out for themselves. - -"Well, we used to like to catch a moose, and we had different ways of -doing it. One way was to snare them. We'd make a loop in a rope and hide -it on the ground under the dead leaves in one of their paths. This was -connected with a young sapling whose top was bent down. When the moose -stepped on the loop it would release the sapling, and up it would bound, -catching him by the leg. These snares were always set deep in the woods, -and we couldn't visit them very often; Sometimes the moose would be -there for days, raging and tearing around, and scratching the skin off -his legs. That was cruel. I wouldn't catch a moose in that way now for a -hundred dollars. - -"Another way was to hunt them on snow shoes with dogs. In February and -March the snow was deep, and would carry men and dogs. Moose don't go -together in herds. In the summer they wander about over the forest, and -in the autumn they come together in small groups, and select a hundred -or two of acres where there is plenty of heavy undergrowth, and to which -they usually confine themselves. They do this so that their tracks won't -tell their enemies where they are. - -"Any of these places where there were several moose we called a moose -yard. We went through the woods till we got on to the tracks of some of -the animals belonging to it, then the dogs smelled them and went ahead -to start them. If I shut my eyes now I can see one of our moose hunts. -The moose running and plunging through the snow crust, and occasionally -rising up and striking at the dogs that hang on to his bleeding flanks -and legs. The hunters' rifles going crack, crack, crack, sometimes -killing or wounding dogs as well as moose. That, too, was cruel. - -"Two other ways we had of hunting moose: Calling and stalking. The -calling was done in this way: We took a bit of birch bark and rolled it -up in the shape of a horn. We took this horn and started out, either on -a bright moonlight night, or just at evening, or early in the morning. -The man who carried the horn hid himself, and then began to make a -lowing sound like a female moose. He had to do it pretty well to deceive -them. Away in the distance some moose would hear it, and with answering -grunts would start off to come to it. If a young male moose was coming, -he'd mind his steps, I can assure you, on account of fear of the old -ones; but if it was an old fellow, you'd hear him stepping out bravely -and rapping his horns against the trees, and plunging into any water -that came in his way. When he got pretty near, he'd stop to listen, and -then the caller had to be very careful and put his trumpet down close to -the ground, so as to make a lower sound. If the moose felt doubtful he'd -turn; if not, he'd come on, and unlucky for him if he did, for he got a -warm reception, either from the rifles in our hands as we lay hid near -the caller, or from some of the party stationed at a distance. - -"In stalking, we crept on them the way a cat creeps on a mouse. In the -daytime a moose is usually lying down. We'd find their tracks and places -where they'd been nipping off the ends of branches and twigs, and follow -them up. They easily take the scent of men, and we'd have to keep well -to the leeward. Sometimes we'd come upon them lying down, but, if in -walking along, we'd broken a twig, or made the slightest noise, they'd -think it was one of their mortal enemies, a bear creeping on them, and -they'd be up and away. Their sense of hearing is very keen, but they're -not so quick to see. A fox is like that, too. His eyes aren't equal to -his nose. - -"Stalking is the most merciful way to kill moose. Then they haven't the -fright and suffering of the chase." - -"I don't see why they need to be killed at all," said Mrs. Wood. "If -I knew that forest back of the mountains was full of wild creatures, -I think I'd be glad of it, and not want to hunt them, that is, if they -were harmless and beautiful creatures like the deer." - -"You're a woman," said Mr. Wood, "and women are more merciful than men. -Men want to kill and slay. They're like the Englishman, who said 'What a -fine day it is; let's go out and kill something.'" - -"Please tell us some more about the dogs that helped you catch the -moose, uncle," said Miss Laura. I was sitting up very straight beside -her listening to every word Mr. Wood said, and she was fondling my head. - -"Well, Laura, when we camped out on the snow and slept on spruce boughs -while we were after the moose, the dogs used to be a great comfort to -us. They slept at our feet and kept us warm. Poor brutes, they mostly -had a rough time of it. They enjoyed the running and chasing as much as -we did, but when it came to broken ribs and sore heads, it was another -matter. Then the porcupines bothered them. Our dogs would never learn to -let them alone. If they were going through the woods where there were no -signs of moose and found a porcupine, they'd kill it. The quills would -get in their mouths and necks and chests, and we'd have to gag them -and take bullet molds or nippers, or whatever we had, sometimes our -jack-knives, and pull out the nasty things. If we got hold of the dogs -at once, we could pull out the quills with our fingers. Sometimes the -quills worked in, and the dogs would go home and lie by the fire with -running sores till they worked out. I've seen quills work right through -dogs. Go in on one side and come out on the other." - -"Poor brutes," said Mrs. Wood. "I wonder you took them." - -"We once lost a valuable hound while moose hunting," said Mr. Wood. "The -moose struck him with his hoof and the dog was terribly injured. He -lay in the woods for days, till a neighbor of ours, who was looking for -timber, found him and brought him home on his shoulders. Wasn't there -rejoicing among us boys to see old Lion coming back. We took care of him -and he got well again. - -"It was good sport to see the dogs when we were hunting a bear with -them. Bears are good runners, and when dogs get after them, there is -great skirmishing. They nip the bear behind, and when they turn, the -dogs run like mad, for a hug from a bear means sure death to a dog. If -they got a slap from his paws, over they'd go. Dogs new to the business -were often killed by the bears." - -"Were there many bears near your home, Mr. Wood?" asked Mr. Maxwell - -"Lots of them. More than we wanted. They used to bother us fearfully -about our sheep and cattle. I've often had to get up in the night, and -run out to the cattle. The bears would come out of the woods, and jump -on to the young heifers and cows, and strike them and beat them down, -and the cattle would roar as if the evil one had them. If the cattle -were too far away from the house for us to hear them, the bears would -worry them till they were dead. - -"As for the sheep, they never made any resistance. They'd meekly run -in a corner when they saw a bear coming, and huddle together, and he'd -strike at them, and scratch them with his claws, and perhaps wound a -dozen before he got one firmly. Then he'd seize it in his paws, and walk -off on his hind legs over fences and anything else that came in his way, -till he came to a nice, retired spot, and there he'd sit down and skin -that sheep just like a butcher. He'd gorge himself with the meat, and -in the morning we'd find the other sheep that he'd torn, and we'd vow -vengeance against that bear. He'd be almost sure to come back for more, -so for a while after that we always put the sheep in the barn at nights -and set a trap by the remains of the one he had eaten. - -"Everybody hated bears, and hadn't much pity for them; still they were -only getting their meat as other wild animals do, and we'd no right -to set such cruel traps for them as the steel ones. They had a clog -attached to them, and had long, sharp teeth. We put them on the ground -and strewed leaves over them, and hung up some of the carcass left by -the bear near by. When he attempted to get this meat, he would tread on -the trap, and the teeth would spring together, and catch him by the leg. -They always fought to get free. I once saw a bear that had been making -a desperate effort to get away. His leg was broken, the skin and flesh -were all torn away, and he was held by the tendons. It was a foreleg -that was caught, and he would put his hind feet against the jaws of the -trap, and then draw by pressing with his feet, till he would stretch -those tendons to their utmost extent. - -"I have known them to work away till they really pulled these tendons -out of the foot, and got off. It was a great event in our neighborhood -when a bear was caught. Whoever caught him blew a horn, and the men and -boys came trooping together to see the sight. I've known them to blow -that horn on a Sunday morning, and I've seen the men turn their backs on -the meeting house to go and see the bear." - -"Was there no more merciful way of catching them than by this trap?" -asked Miss Laura. - -"Oh, yes, by the deadfall that is by driving heavy sticks into the -ground, and making a boxlike place, open on one side, where two logs -were so arranged with other heavy logs upon them, that when the bear -seized the bait, the upper log fell down and crushed him to death. -Another way was to fix a bait in a certain place, with cords tied to -it, which cords were fastened to triggers of guns placed at a little -distance. When the bear took the bait, the guns went off, and he shot -himself. - -"Sometimes it took a good many bullets to kill them. I remember one old -fellow that we put eleven into, before he keeled over. It was one fall, -over on Pike's Hill. The snow had come earlier than usual, and this old -bear hadn't got into his den for his winter's sleep. A lot of us started -out after him. The hill was covered with beech trees, and he'd been -living all the fall on the nuts, till he'd got as fat as butter. We took -dogs and worried him, and ran him from one place to another, and shot -at him, till at last he dropped. We took his meat home, and had his skin -tanned for a sleigh robe. - -"One day I was in the woods, and looking through the trees espied a -bear. He was standing up on his hind legs, snuffing in every direction, -and just about the time I espied him, he espied me. I had no dog and -no gun, so I thought I had better be getting home to my dinner. I was -a small boy then, and the bear, probably thinking I'd be a mouthful for -him anyway, began to come after me in a leisurely way. I can see myself -now going through those woods hat gone, jacket flying, arms out, eyes -rolling over my shoulder every little while to see if the bear was -gaining on me. He was a benevolent-looking old fellow, and his face -seemed to say, 'Don't hurry, little boy.' He wasn't doing his prettiest, -and I soon got away from him, but I made up my mind then, that it was -more fun to be the chaser than the chased. - -"Another time I was out in our cornfield, and hearing a rustling, looked -through the stalks, and saw a brown bear with two cubs. She was slashing -down the corn with her paws to get at the ears. She smelled me, and -getting frightened, began to run. I had a dog with me this time, and -shouted and rapped on the fence, and set him on her. He jumped up and -snapped at her flanks, and every few instants she'd turn and give him a -cuff, that would send him yards away. I followed her up, and just back -of the farm she and her cubs took into a tree. I sent my dog home, and -my father and some of the neighbors came. It had gotten dark by this -time, so we built a fire under the tree, and watched all night, and told -stories to keep each other awake. Toward morning we got sleepy, and the -fire burnt low, and didn't that old bear and one cub drop right down -among us and start off to the woods. That waked us up. We built up the -fire and kept watch, so that the one cub, still in the tree, couldn't -get away. Until daylight the mother bear hung around, calling to the cub -to come down." - -"Did you let it go, uncle?" asked Miss Laura. - -"No, my dear, we shot it." - -"How cruel!" cried Mrs. Wood. - -"Yes, weren't we brutes?" said her husband; "but there was some excuse -for us, Hattie. The bears ruined our farms. This kind of hunting that -hunts and kills for the mere sake of slaughter is very different from -that. I'll tell you what I've no patience with, and that's with these -English folks that dress themselves up, and take fine horses and packs -of dogs, and tear over the country after one little fox or rabbit. Bah, -it's contemptible. Now if they were hunting cruel, man-eating tigers or -animals that destroy property, it would be different thing." - - - -CHAPTER XXIV THE RABBIT AND THE HEN - -"YOU had foxes up in Maine, I suppose Mr. Wood, hadn't you?" asked Mr. -Maxwell. - -"Heaps of them. I always want to laugh when I think of our foxes, for -they were so cute. Never a fox did I catch in a trap, though I'd set -many a one. I'd take the carcass of some creature that had died, a -sheep, for instance, and put it in a field near the woods, and the foxes -would come and eat it. After they got accustomed to come and eat and -no harm befell them, they would be unsuspecting. So just before a -snowstorm, I'd take a trap and put it this spot. I'd handle it with -gloves, and I'd smoke it, and rub fir boughs on it to take away the -human smell, and then the snow would come and cover it up, and yet those -foxes would know it was a trap and walk all around it. It's a wonderful -thing, that sense of smell in animals, if it is a sense of smell. Joe -here has got a good bit of it." - -"What kind of traps were they, father?" asked Mr. Harry. - -"Cruel ones steel ones. They'd catch an animal by the leg and sometimes -break the bone. The leg would bleed, and below the jaws of the trap it -would freeze, there being no circulation of the blood. Those steel traps -are an abomination. The people around here use one made on the same -principle for catching rats. I wouldn't have them on my place for any -money. I believe we've got to give an account for all the unnecessary -suffering we put on animals." - -"You'll have some to answer for, John, according to your own story," -said Mrs. Wood. - -"I have suffered already," he said. "Many a night I've lain on my bed -and groaned, when I thought of needless cruelties I'd put upon animals -when I was a young, unthinking boy and I was pretty carefully brought -up, too, according to our light in those days. I often think that if I -was cruel, with all the instruction I had to be merciful, what can be -expected of the children that get no good teaching at all when they're -young." - -"Tell us some more about the foxes, Mr. Wood," said Mr. Maxwell. - -"Well, we used to have rare sport hunting them with fox-hounds. I'd -often go off for the day with my hounds. Sometimes in the early morning -they'd find a track in the snow. The leader for scent would go back and -forth, to find out which way the fox was going. I can see him now. All -the time that he ran, now one way and now another on the track of the -fox, he was silent, but kept his tail aloft, wagging it as a signal to -the hounds behind. He was leader in scent, but he did not like bloody, -dangerous fights. By-and-by, he would decide which way the fox had gone. -Then his tail, still kept high in the air, would wag more violently. The -rest followed him in single file, going pretty slow, so as to enable us -to keep up to them. By-and-by, they would come to a place where the fox -was sleeping for the day. As soon as he was disturbed he would leave his -bed under some thick fir or spruce branches near the ground. This flung -his fresh scent into the air. As soon as the hounds sniffed it, they -gave tongue in good earnest. It was a mixed, deep baying, that made the -blood quicken in my veins. While in the excitement of first fright, the -fox would run fast for a mile or two, till he found it an easy matter -to keep out of the way of the hounds. Then he, cunning creature, would -begin to bother them. He would mount to the top pole of the worm fence -dividing the fields from the woods. He could trot along here quite a -distance and then make a long jump into the woods. The hounds would -come up, but could not walk the fence, and they would have difficulty in -finding where the fox had left it. Then we saw generalship. The hounds -scattered in all directions, and made long detours into the woods and -fields. As soon as the track was lost, they ceased to bay, but the -instant a hound found it again, he bayed to give the signal to the -others. All would hurry to the spot, and off they would go baying as -they went. - -"Then Mr. Fox would try a new trick. He would climb a leaning tree, and -then jump to the ground. This trick would soon be found out. Then -he'd try another. He would make a circle of a quarter of a mile in -circumference. By making a loop in his course, he would come in behind -the hounds, and puzzle them between the scent of his first and following -tracks. If the snow was deep, the hounds had made a good track for him. -Over this he could run easily, and they would have to feel their way -along, for after he had gone around the circle a few times, he would -jump from the beaten path as far as he could, and make off to other -cover in a straight line. Before this was done it was my plan to get -near the circle; taking care to approach it on the leeward side. If the -fox got a sniff of human scent, he would leave his circle very quickly, -and make tracks fast to be out of danger. By the baying of the hounds, -the circle in which the race was kept up could be easily known. The last -runs to get near enough to shoot had to be done when the hounds' baying -came from the side of the circle nearest to me. For then the fox would -be on the opposite side farthest away. As soon as I got near enough -to see the hounds when they passed, I stopped. When they got on the -opposite side, I then kept a bright lookout for the fox. Sometimes when -the brush was thick, the sight of him would be indistinct. The shooting -had to be quick. As soon as the report of the gun was heard, the hounds -ceased to bay, and made for the spot. If the fox was dead, they enjoyed -the scent of his blood. If only wounded, they went after him with all -speed. Sometimes he was overtaken and killed, and sometimes he got into -his burrow in the earth, or in a hollow log, or among the rocks. - -"One day, I remember, when I was standing on the outside of the circle, -the fox came in sight. I fired. He gave a shrill bark, and came toward -me. Then he stopped in the snow and fell dead in his tracks. I was a -pretty good shot in those days." - -"Poor little fox," said Miss Laura. "I wish you had let him get away." - -"Here's one that nearly got away," said Mr. Wood. "One winter's day, I -was chasing him with the hounds. There was a crust on the snow, and -the fox was light, while the dogs were heavy. They ran along, the fox -trotting nimbly on the top of the crust and the dogs breaking through, -and every few minutes that fox would stop and sit down to look at the -dogs. They were in a fury, and the wickedness of the fox in teasing -them, made me laugh so much that I was very unwilling to shoot him." - -"You said your steel traps were cruel things, uncle," said Miss Laura. -"Why didn't you have a deadfall for the foxes as you had for the bears?" - -"They were too cunning to go into deadfalls. There was a better way to -catch them, though. Foxes hate water, and never go into it unless they -are obliged to, so we used to find a place where a tree had fallen -across a river, and made a bridge for them to go back and forth on. Here -we set snares, with spring poles that would throw them into the river -when they made struggles to get free, and drown them. Did you ever hear -of the fox, Laura, that wanted to cross a river, and lay down on the -bank pretending that he was dead, and a countryman came along, and, -thinking he had a prize, threw him in his boat and rowed across, when -the fox got up and ran away?" - -"Now, uncle," said Miss Laura, "you're laughing at me. That couldn't be -true." - -"No, no," said Mr. Wood, chuckling; "but they're mighty cute at -pretending they're dead. I once shot one in the morning, carried him a -long way on my shoulders, and started to skin him in the afternoon, when -he turned around and bit me enough to draw blood. At another time I dug -one out of a hole in the ground. He feigned death. I took him up and -threw him down at some distance, and he jumped up and ran into the -woods." - -"What other animals did you catch when you were a boy?" asked Mr. -Maxwell. - -"Oh, a number. Otters and beavers we caught them in deadfalls and in -steel traps. The mink we usually took in deadfalls, smaller, of course, -than the ones we used for the bears. The musk-rat we caught in box traps -like a mouse trap. The wild-cat we ran down like the loup cervier." - -"What kind of an animal is that?" asked Mr. Maxwell. - -"It is a lynx, belonging to the cat species. They used to prowl about -the country killing hens, geese, and sometimes sheep. They'd fix their -tusks in the sheep's neck and suck the blood. They did not think much -of the sheep's flesh. We ran them down with dogs. They'd often run up -trees, and we'd shoot them. Then there were rabbits that we caught, -mostly in snares. For musk-rats, we'd put a parsnip or an apple on the -spindle of a box trap. When we snared a rabbit, I always wanted to -find it caught around the neck and strangled to death. If they got half -through the snare and were caught around the body, or by the hind legs, -they'd live for some time, and they'd cry just like a child. I like -shooting them better, just because I hated to hear their pitiful cries. -It's a bad business this of killing dumb creatures, and the older I get, -the more chicken-hearted I am about it." - -"Chicken-hearted I should think you are," said Mrs. Wood. "Do you know, -Laura, he won't even kill a fowl for dinner. He gives it to one of the -men to do." - -"'Blessed are the merciful,'" said Miss Laura, throwing her arm over her -uncle's shoulder. "I love you, dear Uncle John, because you are so kind -to every living thing." - -"I'm going to be kind to you now," said her uncle, "and send you to bed. -You look tired." - -"Very well," she said, with a smile. Then bidding them all good-night, -she went upstairs. Mr. Wood turned to Mr. Maxwell. "You're going to stay -all night with us, aren't you?" - -"So Mrs. Wood says," replied the young man, with a smile. - -"Of course," she said. "I couldn't think of letting you go back to the -village such a night as this. It's raining cats and dogs but I mustn't -say that, or there'll be no getting you to stay. I'll go and prepare -your old room next to Harry's." And she bustled away. - -The two young men went to the pantry for doughnuts and milk, and Mr. -Wood stood gazing down at me. "Good dog," he said; "you look as if you -sensed that talk to-night. Come, get a bone, and then away to bed." - -He gave me a very large mutton bone, and I held it in my mouth, and -watched him opening the woodshed door. I love human beings; and the -saddest time of day for me is when I have to be separated from them -while they sleep. - -"Now, go to bed and rest well, Beautiful Joe," said Mr. Wood, "and -if you hear any stranger round the house, run out and bark. Don't be -chasing wild animals in your sleep, though. They say a dog is the only -animal that dreams. I wonder whether it's true?" Then he went into the -house and shut the door. - -I had a sheepskin to lie on, and a very good bed it made. I slept -soundly for a long time; then I waked up and found that, instead of rain -pattering against the roof, and darkness everywhere, it was quite light. -The rain was over, and the moon was shining beautifully. I ran to the -door and looked out. It was almost as light as day. The moon made it -very bright all around the house and farm buildings, and I could look -all about and see that there was no one stirring. I took a turn around -the yard, and walked around to the side of the house, to glance up at -Miss Laura's window. I always did this several times through the night, -just to see if she was quite safe. I was on my way back to my bed, when -I saw two small, white things moving away down the lane. I stood on the -veranda and watched them. When they got nearer, I saw that there was a -white rabbit hopping up the road, followed by a white hen. - -It seemed to me a very strange thing for these creatures to be out this -time of night, and why were they coming to Dingley Farm? This wasn't -their home. I ran down on the road and stood in front of them. - -Just as soon as the hen saw me, she fluttered in front of the rabbit, -and, spreading out her wings, clucked angrily, and acted as if she would -peck my eyes out if I came nearer. - -I saw that they were harmless creatures, and, remembering my adventure -with the snake, I stepped aside. Besides that, I knew by their smell -that they had been near Mr. Maxwell, so perhaps they were after him. - -They understood quite well that I would not hurt them, and passed by -me. The rabbit went ahead again and the hen fell behind. It seemed to me -that the hen was sleepy, and didn't like to be out so late at night, and -was only following the rabbit because she thought it was her duty. - -He was going along in a very queer fashion, putting his nose to the -ground, and rising up on his hind legs, and sniffing the air, first on -this side and then on the other, and his nose going, going all the time. - -He smelled all around the house till he came to Mr. Maxwell's room at -the back. It opened on the veranda by a glass door, and the door stood -ajar. The rabbit squeezed himself in, and the hen stayed out. She -watched for a while, and when he didn't come back, she flew upon the -back of a chair that stood near the door, and put her head under her -wing. - -I went back to my bed, for I knew they would do no harm. Early in the -morning, when I was walking around the house, I heard a great shouting -and laughing from Mr. Maxwell's room. He and Mr. Harry had just -discovered the hen and the rabbit; and Mr. Harry was calling his mother -to come and look at them. The rabbit had slept on the foot of the bed. - -Mr. Harry was chaffing Mr. Maxwell very much, and was telling him that -any one who entertained him was in for a traveling menagerie. They had -a great deal of fun over it, and Mr. Maxwell said that he had had that -pretty, white hen as a pet for a long time in Boston. Once when she had -some little chickens, a frightened rabbit, that was being chased by -a dog, ran into the yard. In his terror he got right under the hen's -wings, and she sheltered him, and pecked at the dog's eyes, and kept -him off till help came. The rabbit belonged to a neighbor's boy, and -Mr. Maxwell bought it from him. From the day the hen protected him, she -became his friend, and followed him everywhere. - -I did not wonder that the rabbit wanted to see his master. There was -something about that young man that made dumb animals just delight in -him. When Mrs. Wood mentioned this to him he said, "I don't know why -they should I don't do anything to fascinate them." - -"You love them," she said, "and they know it. That is the reason." - - - -CHAPTER XXV A HAPPY HORSE - -FOR a good while after I went to Dingley Farm I was very shy of the -horses, for I was afraid they might kick me, thinking that I was a bad -dog like Bruno. However, they all had such good faces, and looked at me -so kindly, that I was beginning to get over my fear of them. - -Fleetfoot, Mr. Harry's colt, was my favorite, and one afternoon, when -Mr. Harry and Miss Laura were going out to see him, I followed them. -Fleetfoot was amusing himself by rolling over and over on the grass -under a tree, but when he saw Mr. Harry, he gave a shrill whinny, and -running to him, began nosing about his pockets. - -"Wait a bit," said Mr. Harry, holding him by the forelock. "Let me -introduce you to this young lady, Miss Laura Morris. I want you to make -her a bow." He gave the colt some sign, and immediately he began to paw -the ground and shake his head. - -Mr. Harry laughed and went on: "Here is her dog Joe. I want you to like -him, too. Come here, Joe." I was not at all afraid, for I knew Mr. Harry -would not let him hurt me, so I stood in front of him, and for the first -time had a good look at him. They called him the colt, but he was really -a full-grown horse, and had already been put to work. He was of a dark -chestnut color, and had a well-shaped body and a long, handsome head, -and I never saw, in the head of a man or beast, a more beautiful pair of -eyes than that colt had large, full, brown eyes they were that he turned -on me almost as a person would. He looked me all over as if to say: "Are -you a good dog, and will you treat me kindly, or are you a bad one like -Bruno, and will you chase me and snap at my heels and worry me, so that -I shall want to kick you?" - -I looked at him very earnestly and wagged my body, and lifted myself -on my hind legs toward him. He seemed pleased and put down his nose to -sniff at me, and then we were friends. Friends, and such good friends, -for next to Jim and Billy, I have loved Fleetfoot. - -Mr. Harry pulled some lumps of sugar out of his pocket, and giving them -to Miss Laura, told her to put them on the palm of her hand and hold it -out flat toward Fleetfoot. The colt ate the sugar, and all the time -eyed her with his quiet, observing glance, that made her exclaim: "What -wise-looking colt!" - -"He is like an old horse," said Mr. Harry, "When he hears a sudden -noise, he stops and looks all about him to find an explanation." - -"He has been well trained," said Miss Laura. - -"I have brought him up carefully," said Mr. Harry. "Really, he has been -treated more like a dog than a colt. He follows me about the farm and -smells everything I handle, and seems to want to know the reason of -things." - -"Your mother says," replied Miss Laura, "that she found you both asleep -on the lawn one day last summer, and the colt's head was on your arm." - -Mr. Harry smiled and threw his arm over the colt's neck. "We've been -comrades, haven't we, Fleetfoot? I've been almost ashamed of his -devotion. He has followed me to the village, and he always wants to go -fishing with me. He's four years old now, so he ought to get over those -coltish ways. I've driven him a good deal. We're going out in the buggy -this afternoon, will you come?" - -"Where are you going?" asked Miss Laura. - -"Just for a short drive back of the river, to collect some money for -father. I'll be home long before tea time." - -"Yes, I should like to go," said Miss Laura "I shall go to the house and -get my other hat." - -"Come on, Fleetfoot," said Mr. Harry. And he led the way from the -pasture, the colt following behind with me. I waited about the veranda, -and in a short time Mr. Harry drove up to the front door. The buggy was -black and shining, and Fleetfoot had on a silver-mounted harness that -made him look very fine. He stood gently switching his long tail to keep -the flies away, and with his head turned to see who was going to get -into the buggy. I stood by him, and as soon as he saw that Miss Laura -and Mr. Harry had seated themselves, he acted as if he wanted to be off. -Mr. Harry spoke to him and away he went, I racing down the lane by his -side, so happy to think he was my friend. He liked having me beside him, -and every few seconds put down his head toward me. Animals can tell -each other things without saying a word. When Fleetfoot gave his head a -little toss in a certain way, I knew that he wanted to have a race. -He had a beautiful even gait, and went very swiftly. Mr. Harry kept -speaking to him to check him. - -"You don't like him to go too fast, do you?" said Miss Laura. - -"No," he returned. "I think we could make a racer of him if we liked, -but father and I don't go in for fast horses. There is too much said -about fast trotters and race horses. On some of the farms around here, -the people have gone mad on breeding fast horses. An old farmer out in -the country had a common cart-horse that he suddenly found out had great -powers of speed and endurance. He sold him to a speculator for a big -price, and it has set everybody wild. If the people who give all their -time to it can't raise fast horses I don't see how the farmers can. A -fast horse on a farm is ruination to the boys, for it starts them racing -and betting. Father says he is going to offer a prize for the fastest -walker that can be bred in New Hampshire. That Dutchman of ours, heavy -as he is, is a fair walker, and Cleve and Pacer can each walk four and a -half miles an hour." - -"Why do you lay such stress on their walking fast?" asked Miss Laura. - -"Because so much of the farm work must be done at a walk. Ploughing, -teaming, and drawing produce to market, and going up and down hills. -Even for the cities it is good to have fast walkers. Trotting on city -pavements is very hard on the dray horses. If they are allowed to go at -a quick walk, their legs will keep strong much longer. It is shameful -the way horses are used up in big cities. Our pavements are so bad that -cab horses are used up in three years. In many ways we are a great deal -better off in this new country than the people in Europe, but we are -not in respect of cab horses, for in London and Paris they last for -five years. I have seen horses drop down dead in New York just from hard -usage. Poor brutes, there is a better time coming for them though. When -electricity is more fully developed we'll see some wonderful changes. As -it is, last year in different places, about thirty thousand horses -were released from those abominable horse cars, by having electricity -introduced on the roads. Well, Fleetfoot, do you want another spin? All -right, my boy, go ahead." - -Away we went again along a bit of level road. Fleetfoot had no -check-rein on his beautiful neck, and when he trotted, he could hold his -head in an easy, natural position. With his wonderful eyes and flowing -mane and tail, and his glossy, reddish-brown body, I thought that he was -the handsomest horse I had ever seen. He loved to go fast, and when Mr. -Harry spoke to him to slow up again, he tossed his head with impatience. -But he was too sweet-tempered to disobey. In all the years that I have -known Fleetfoot, I have never once seen him refuse to do as his master -told him. - -"You have forgotten your whip, haven't you Harry?" I heard Miss Laura -say, as we jogged slowly along, and I ran by the buggy panting and with -my tongue hanging out. - -"I never use one," said Mr. Harry; "if I saw any man lay one on -Fleetfoot, I'd knock him down." His voice was so severe that I glanced -up into the buggy. He looked just as he did the day that he stretched -Jenkins on the ground, and gave him a beating. - -"I am so glad you don't," said Miss Laura. "You are like the Russians. -Many of them control their horses by their voices, and call them such -pretty names. But you have to use a whip for some horses, don't you, -Cousin Harry?" - -"Yes, Laura. There are many vicious horses that can't be controlled -otherwise, and then with many horses one requires a whip in case of -necessity for urging them forward." - -"I suppose Fleetfoot never balks," said Miss Laura. - -"No," replied Mr. Harry; "Dutchman sometimes does, and we have two cures -for him, both equally good. We take up a forefoot and strike his shoe -two or three times with a stone. The operation always interests him -greatly, and he usually starts. If he doesn't go for that, we pass a -line round his forelegs, at the knee joint, then go in front of him and -draw on the line. Father won't let the men use a whip, unless they are -driven to it." - -"Fleetfoot has had a happy life, hasn't he?" said Miss Laura, looking -admiringly at him "How did he get to like you so much, Harry?" - -"I broke him in after a fashion of my own. Father gave him to me, and -the first time I saw him on his feet, I went up carefully and put my -hand on him. His mother was rather shy of me, for we hadn't had her -long, and it made him shy too, so I soon left him. The next time I -stroked him; the next time I put my arm around him. Soon he acted like -a big dog. I could lead him about by a strap, and I made a little halter -and a bridle for him. I didn't see why I shouldn't train him a little -while he was young and manageable. I think it is cruel to let colts run -till one has to employ severity in mastering them. Of course, I did not -let him do much work. Colts are like boys a boy shouldn't do a man's -work, but he had exercise every day, and I trained him to draw a light -cart behind him. I used to do all kinds of things to accustom him to -unusual sounds. Father talked a good deal to me about Rarey, the great -horse-tamer, and it put ideas into my head. He said he once saw Rarey -come on a stage in Boston with a timid horse that he was going to -accustom to a loud noise. First a bugle was blown, then some louder -instrument, and so on, till there was a whole brass band going. Rarey -reassured the animal, and it was not afraid." - -"You like horses better than any other animals, don't you, Harry?" asked -Miss Laura. - -"I believe I do, though I am very fond of that dog of yours. I think I -know more about horses than dogs. Have you noticed Scamp very much?" - -"Oh, yes; I often watched her. She is such an amusing little creature." - -"She's the most interesting one we've got, that is, after Fleetfoot. -Father got her from a man who couldn't manage her, and she came to us -with a legion of bad tricks. Father has taken solid comfort though, in -breaking her of them. She is his pet among our stock. I suppose you know -that horses, more than any other animals, are creatures of habit. If -they do a thing once, they will do it again. When she came to us, she -had a trick of biting at a person who gave her oats. She would do it -without fail, so father put a little stick under his arm, and every time -she would bite he would give her a rap over the nose. She soon got tired -of biting, and gave it up. Sometimes now, you'll see her make a snap at -father as if she was going to bite, and then look under his arm to see -if the stick is there. He cured some of her tricks in one way, and some -in another. One bad one she had was to start for the stable the minute -one of the traces was unfastened when we were unharnessing. She pulled -father over once, and another time she ran the shaft of the sulky clean -through the barn door. The next time father brought her in, he got ready -for her. He twisted the lines around his hands, and the minute she -began to bolt, he gave a tremendous jerk, that pulled her back upon -her haunches, and shouted, 'Whoa!' It cured her, and she never started -again, till he gave her the word. Often now, you'll see her throw her -head back when she is being unhitched. He only did it once, yet she -remembers. If we'd had the training of Scamp, she'd be a very different -animal. It's nearly all in the bringing up of a colt, whether it will -turn out vicious or gentle. If any one were to strike Fleetfoot, he -would not know what it meant. He has been brought up differently from -Scamp. - -"She was probably trained by some brutal man who inspired her with -distrust of the human species. She never bites an animal, and seems -attached to all the other horses. She loves Fleetfoot and Cleve and -Pacer. Those three are her favorites." - -"I love to go for drives with Cleve and Pacer," said Miss Laura, "they -are so steady and good. Uncle says they are the most trusty horses -he has. He has told me about the man you had, who said that those two -horses knew more than most 'humans.'" - -"That was old Davids," said Mr. Harry; "when we had him, he was courting -a widow who lived over in Hoytville. About once a fortnight, he'd ask -father for one of the horses to go over to see her. He always stayed -pretty late, and on the way home he'd tie the reins to the whip-stock -and go to sleep, and never wake up till Cleve or Pacer, whichever one -he happened to have, would draw up in the barnyard. They would pass any -rigs they happened to meet, and turn out a little for a man. If Davids -wasn't asleep, he could always tell by the difference in their gait -which they were passing. They'd go quickly past a man, and much slower, -with more of a turn out, if it was a team. But I dare say father told -you this. He has a great stock of horse stories, and I am almost as bad. -You will have to cry 'halt,' when we bore you." - -"You never do," replied Miss Laura. "I love to talk about animals. I -think the best story about Cleve and Pacer is the one that uncle told -me last evening. I don't think you were there. It was about stealing the -oats." - -"Cleve and Pacer never steal," said Mr. Harry. "Don't you mean Scamp? -She's the thief." - -"No, it was Pacer that stole. He got out of his box, uncle says, and -found two bags of oats, and he took one in his teeth and dropped it -before Cleve, and ate the other himself, and uncle was so amused that he -let them eat a long time, and stood and watched them." - -"That was a clever trick," said Mr. Harry. "Father must have forgotten -to tell me. Those two horses have been mates ever since I can remember, -and I believe if they were separated, they'd pine away and die. You -have noticed how low the partitions are between the boxes in the horse -stable. Father says you wouldn't put a lot of people in separate boxes -in a room, where they couldn't see each other, and horses are just as -fond of company as we are. Cleve and Pacer are always nosing each other. -A horse has a long memory. Father has had horses recognize him, that -he has been parted from for twenty years. Speaking of their memories -reminds me of another good story about Pacer that I never heard till -yesterday, and that I would not talk about to any one but you and -mother. Father wouldn't write me about it, for he never will put a line -on paper where any one's reputation is concerned." - - - -CHAPTER XXVI THE BOX OF MONEY - -"THIS story," said Mr. Harry, "is about one of the hired men we had last -winter, whose name was Jacobs. He was a cunning fellow, with a hangdog -look, and a great cleverness at stealing farm produce from father on the -sly, and selling it. Father knew perfectly well what he was doing, and -was wondering what would be the best way to deal with him, when one day -something happened that brought matters to a climax. - -"Father had to go to Sudbury for farming tools, and took Pacer and the -cutter. There are two ways of going there one the Sudbury Road, and -the other the old Post Road, which is longer and seldom used. On this -occasion father took the Post Road. The snow wasn't deep, and he wanted -to inquire after an old man who had been robbed and half frightened -to death, a few days before. He was a miserable old creature, known -as Miser Jerrold, and he lived alone with his daughter. He had saved a -little money that he kept in a box under his bed. When father got near -the place, he was astonished to see by Pacer's actions that he had been -on this road before, and recently, too. Father is so sharp about horses, -that they never do a thing that he doesn't attach a meaning to. So he -let the reins hang a little loose, and kept his eye on Pacer. The horse -went along the road, and seeing father didn't direct him, turned into -the lane leading to the house. There was an old red gate at the end of -it, and he stopped in front of it, and waited for father to get out. -Then he passed through, and instead of going up to the house, turned -around, and stood with his head toward the road. - -"Father never said a word, but he was doing a lot of thinking. He went -into the house, and found the old man sitting over the fire, rubbing his -hands, and half-crying about 'the few poor dollars,' that he said he had -had stolen from him. Father had never seen him before, but he knew he -had the name of being half silly, and question him as much as he liked, -he could make nothing of him. The daughter said that they had gone to -bed at dark the night her father was robbed. She slept up stairs, and -he down below. About ten o'clock she heard him scream, and running down -stairs, she found him sitting up in bed, and the window wide open. -He said a man had sprung in upon him, stuffed the bedclothes into his -mouth, and dragging his box from under the bed, had made off with it. -She ran to the door and looked out, but there was no one to be seen. -It was dark, and snowing a little, so no traces of footsteps were to be -perceived in the morning. - -"Father found that the neighbors were dropping in to bear the old man -company, so he drove on to Sudbury, and then returned home. When he got -back, he said Jacobs was hanging about the stable in a nervous kind of a -way, and said he wanted to speak to him. Father said very good, but -put the horse in first. Jacobs unhitched, and father sat on one of the -stable benches and watched him till he came lounging along with a straw -in his mouth, and said he'd made up his mind to go West, and he'd like -to set off at once. - -"Father said again, very good, but first he had a little account to -settle with him, and he took out of his pocket a paper, where he had -jotted down, as far as he could, every quart of oats, and every bag of -grain, and every quarter of a dollar of market money that Jacobs had -defrauded him of. Father said the fellow turned all the colors of the -rainbow, for he thought he had covered up his tracks so cleverly that -he would never be found out. Then father said, 'Sit down, Jacobs, for I -have got to have a long talk with you.' He had him there about an hour, -and when he finished, the fellow was completely broken down. Father told -him that there were just two courses in life for a young man to take; -and he had gotten on the wrong one. He was a young, smart fellow, and -if he turned right around now, there was a chance for him. If he didn't -there was nothing but the State's prison ahead of him, for he needn't -think he was going to gull and cheat all the world, and never be found -out. Father said he'd give him all the help in his power, if he had his -word that he'd try to be an honest man. Then he tore up the paper, and -laid there was an end of his indebtedness to him. - -"Jacobs is only a young fellow, twenty-three or thereabout, and father -says he sobbed like a baby. Then, without looking at him, father gave in -account of his afternoon's drive, just as if he was talking to himself. -He said that Pacer never to his knowledge had been on that road before, -and yet he seemed perfectly familiar with it, and that he stopped and -turned already to leave again quickly, instead of going up to the door, -and how he looked over his shoulder and started on a run down the lane, -the minute father's foot was in the cutter again. In the course of his -remarks, father mentioned the fact that on Monday, the evening that the -robbery was committed, Jacobs had borrowed Pacer to go to the Junction, -but had come in with the horse steaming, and looking as if he had been -driven a much longer distance than that. Father said that when he got -done, Jacobs had sunk down all in a heap on the stable floor with his -hands over his face. Father left him to have it out with himself, and -went to the house. - -"The next morning, Jacobs looked just the same as usual, and went about -with the other men doing his work, but saying nothing about going West. -Late in the afternoon, a farmer going by hailed father, and asked if -he'd heard the news. Old Miser Jerrold's box had been left on his door -step some time through the night, and he'd found it in the morning. The -money was all there, but the old fellow was so cute that he wouldn't -tell any one how much it was. The neighbors had persuaded him to bank -it, and he was coming to town the next morning with it, and that night -some of them were going to help him mount guard over it. Father told -the men at milking time, and he said Jacobs looked as unconscious as -possible However, from that day there was a change in him. He never told -father in so many words that he'd resolved to be an honest man, but his -actions spoke for him. He had been a kind of sullen, unwilling fellow, -but now he turned handy and obliging, and it was a real trial to father -to part with him." - -Miss Laura was intensely interested in this story. "Where is he now, -Cousin Harry?" she asked, eagerly. "What became of him?" - -Mr. Harry laughed in such amusement that I stared up at him, and even -Fleetfoot turned his head around to see what the joke was. We were going -very slowly up a long, steep hill, and in the clear, still air, we could -hear every word spoken in the buggy. - -"The last part of the story is the best, to my mind," said Mr. Harry, -"and as romantic as even a girl could desire. The affair of the stolen -box was much talked about along Sudbury way, and Miss Jerrold got to be -considered quite a desirable young person among some of the youth near -there, though she is a frowsy-headed creature, and not as neat in her -personal attire as a young girl should be. Among her suitors was Jacobs. -He cut out a blacksmith and a painter, and several young farmers, and -father said he never in his life had such a time to keep a straight -face, as when Jacobs came to him this spring, and said he was going to -marry old Miser Jerrold's daughter. He wanted to quit father's employ, -and he thanked him in a real manly way for the manner in which he had -always treated him. Well Jacobs left, and mother says that father would -sit and speculate about him, as to whether he had fallen in love with -Eliza Jerrold, or whether he was determined to regain possession of the -box, and was going to do it honestly, or whether he was sorry for having -frightened the old man into a greater degree of imbecility, and was -marrying the girl so that he could take care of him, or whether it was -something else, and so on, and so on. He had a dozen theories, and -then mother says he would burst out laughing, and say it was one of the -cutest tricks that he had ever heard of. - -"In the end, Jacobs got married, and father and mother went to the -wedding. Father gave the bridegroom a yoke of oxen, and mother gave the -bride a lot of household linen, and I believe they're as happy as the -day is long. Jacobs makes his wife comb her hair, and he waits on the -old man as if he was his son, and he is improving the farm that was -going to rack and ruin, and I hear he is going to build a new house." - -"Harry," exclaimed Miss Laura, "can't you take me to see them?" - -"Yes, indeed; mother often drives over to take them little things, and -we'll go, too, sometime. I'd like to see Jacobs myself, now that he is -a decent fellow. Strange to say, though he hadn't the best of character, -no one has ever suspected him of the robbery, and he's been cunning -enough never to say a word about it. Father says Jacobs is like all the -rest of us. There's mixture of good and evil in him, and sometimes one -predominates, and sometimes the other. But we must get on and not talk -here all day. Get up, Fleetfoot." - -"Where did you say we were going?" asked Miss Laura, as we crossed the -bridge over the river. - -"A little way back here in the woods," he replied. "There's an -Englishman on a small clearing that he calls Penhollow. Father loaned -him some money three years ago, and he won't pay either interest or -principal." - -"I think I've heard of him," said Miss Laura "Isn't he the man whom the -boys call Lord Chesterfield?" - -"The same one. He's a queer specimen of a man. Father has always stood -up for him. He has a great liking for the English. He says we ought to -be as ready to help an Englishman as an American, for we spring from -common stock." - -"Oh, not Englishmen only," said Miss Laura, warmly; "Chinamen, and -Negroes, and everybody. There ought to be a brotherhood of nations, -Harry." - -"Yes, Miss Enthusiasm, I suppose there ought to be," and looking up, I -could see that Mr. Harry was gazing admiringly into his cousin's face. - -"Please tell me some more about the Englishman," said Miss Laura. - -"There isn't much to tell. He lives alone, only coming occasionally -to the village for supplies, and though he is poorer than poverty, he -despises every soul within a ten-mile radius of him, and looks upon us -as no better than an order of thrifty, well-trained lower animals." - -"Why is that?" asked Miss Laura, in surprise. - -"He is a gentleman, Laura, and we are only common people. My father -can't hand a lady in and out of a carriage as Lord Chesterfield can, nor -can he make so grand a bow, nor does he put on evening dress for a -late dinner, and we never go to the opera nor to the theatre, and -know nothing of polite society, nor can we tell exactly whom our -great-great-grandfather sprang from. I tell you, there is a gulf between -us and that Englishman, wider than the one young Curtius leaped into." - -Miss Laura was laughing merrily. "How funny that sounds, Harry. So -he despises you," and she glanced at her good-looking cousin, and his -handsome buggy and well-kept horse, and then burst into another merry -peal of laughter. - -Mr. Harry laughed, too. "It does seem absurd. Sometimes when I pass him -jogging along to town in his rickety old cart, and look at his pale, -cruel face, and know that he is a broken-down gambler and man of the -world, and yet considers himself infinitely superior to me a young man -in the prime of life, with a good constitution and happy prospects, it -makes me turn away to hide a smile." - -By this time we had left the river and the meadows far behind us, and -were passing through a thick wood. The road was narrow and very broken, -and Fleetfoot was obliged to pick his way carefully. "Why does the -Englishman live in this out-of-the-way place, if he is so fond of city -life?" said Miss Laura. - -"I don't know," said Mr. Harry. "Father is afraid that he has committed -some misdeed, and is in hiding; but we say nothing about it. We have not -seen him for some weeks, and to tell the truth, this trip is as much to -see what has become of him, as to make a demand upon him for the -money. As he lives alone, he might lie there ill, and no one would -know anything about it. The last time that we knew of his coming to -the village was to draw quite a sum of money from the bank. It annoyed -father, for he said he might take some of it to pay his debts. I think -his relatives in England supply him with funds. Here we are at the -entrance to the mansion of Penhollow. I must get out and open the gate -that will admit us to the winding avenue." - -We had arrived in front of some bars which were laid across an opening -in the snake fence that ran along one side of the road. I sat down -and looked about. It was a strange, lonely place. The trees almost met -overhead, and it was very dim and quiet. The sun could only send little -straggling beams through the branches. There was a muddy pool of water -before the bars that Mr. Harry was letting down, and he got his feet wet -in it. "Confound that Englishman," he said, backing out of the water, -and wiping his boots on the grass. "He hasn't even gumption enough to -throw down a load of stone there. Drive in, Laura, and I'll put up the -bars." Fleetfoot took us through the opening, and then Mr. Harry jumped -into the buggy and took up the reins again. - -We had to go very slowly up a narrow, rough road. The bushes scratched -and scraped against the buggy, and Mr. Harry looked very much annoyed. - -"No man liveth to himself," said Miss Laura, softly. "This man's -carelessness is giving you trouble. Why doesn't he cut these branches -that overhang the road?" - -"He can't do it, because his abominable laziness won't let him," said -Mr. Harry. "I'd like to be behind him for a week, and I'd make him step -a little faster. We have arrived at last, thank goodness." - -There was a small grass clearing in the midst of the woods. Chips -and bits of wood were littered about, and across the clearing was a -roughly-built house of unpainted boards. The front door was propped open -by a stick. Some of the panes of glass in the windows were broken, and -the whole house had a melancholy, dilapidated look. I thought that I had -never seen such a sad-looking place. - -"It seems as if there was no one about," said Mr. Harry, with a puzzled -face. "Barron must be away. Will you hold Fleetfoot, Laura, while I go -and see?" - -He drew the buggy up near a small log building that had evidently been -used for a stable, and I lay down beside it and watched Miss Laura. - - - -CHAPTER XXVII A NEGLECTED STABLE - -I HAD not been on the ground more than a few seconds, before I turned my -eyes from Miss Laura to the log hut. It was deathly quiet, there was not -a sound coming from it, but the air was full of queer smells, and I was -so uneasy that I could not lie still. There was something the matter -with Fleetfoot, too. He was pawing the ground and whinnying, and -looking, not after Mr. Harry, but toward the log building. - -"Joe," said Miss Laura, "what is the matter with you and Fleetfoot? Why -don't you stand still? Is there any stranger about?" and she peered out -of the buggy. - -I knew there was something wrong somewhere, but I didn't know what it -was; so I stretched myself up on the step of the buggy, and licked her -hand, and barking, to ask her to excuse me, I ran off to the other side -of the log hut. There was a door there, but it was closed, and propped -firmly up by a plank that I could not move, scratch as hard as I liked. -I was determined to get in, so I jumped against the door, and tore and -bit at the plank, till Miss Laura came to help me. - -"You won't find anything but rats in that ramshackle old place, -Beautiful Joe," she said, as she pulled the plank away; "and as you -don't hurt them, I don't see what you want to get in for. However, you -are a sensible dog, and usually have a reason for having your own way, -so I am going to let you have it." - -The plank fell down as she spoke, and she pulled open the rough door -and looked in. There was no window inside, only the light that streamed -through the door, so that for an instant she could see nothing. "Is any -one here?" she asked, in her clear, sweet voice. There was no answer -except a low, moaning sound. "Why, some poor creature is in trouble, -Joe," said Miss Laura, cheerfully. "Let us see what it is," and she -stepped inside. - -I shall never forget seeing my dear Miss Laura going into that wet and -filthy log house, holding up her white dress in her hands, her face a -picture of pain and horror. There were two rough stalls in it, and in -the first one was tied a cow, with a calf lying beside her. I could -never have believed, if I had not seen it with my own eyes, that an -animal could get so thin as that cow was. Her backbone rose up high and -sharp, her hip bones stuck away out, and all her body seemed shrunken -in. There were sores on her sides, and the smell from her stall was -terrible. Miss Laura gave one cry of pity, then with a very pale face -she dropped her dress, and seizing a little penknife from her pocket, -she hacked at the rope that tied the cow to the manger, and cut it so -that the cow could lie down. The first thing the poor cow did was to -lick her calf, but it was quite dead. I used to think Jenkins' cows were -thin enough, but he never had one that looked like this. Her head was -like the head of a skeleton, and her eyes had such a famished look, that -I turned away, sick at heart, to think that she had suffered so. - -When the cow lay down, the moaning noise stopped, for she had been -making it. Miss Laura ran outdoors, snatched a handful of grass and took -it in to her. The cow ate it gratefully, but slowly, for her strength -seemed all gone. - -Miss Laura then went into the other stall to see if there was -any creature there. There had been a horse. There was now a lean, -gaunt-looking animal lying on the ground, that seemed as if he was dead. -There was a heavy rope knotted around his neck, and fastened to his -empty rack. Miss Laura stepped carefully between his feet, cut the -rope and going outside the stall spoke kindly to him. He moved his ears -slightly, raised his head, tried to get up, fell back again, tried -again and succeeded in staggering outdoors after Miss Laura, who kept -encouraging him, and then he fell down on the grass. - -Fleetfoot stared at the miserable-looking creature as if he did not know -what it was. The horse had no sores on his body, as the cow had, nor was -he quite so lean: but he was the weakest, most distressed-looking animal -that I ever saw. The flies settled on him, and Miss Laura had to keep -driving them away. He was a white horse, with some kind of pale-colored -eyes, and whenever he turned them on Miss Laura, she would look away. -She did not cry, as she often did over the sick and suffering animals. -This seemed too bad for tears. She just hovered over that poor horse -with her face as white as her dress, and an expression of fright in her -eyes. Oh, how dirty he was! I would never have imagined that a horse -could get in such a condition. - -All this had only taken a few minutes, and just after she got the horse -out, Mr. Harry appeared. He came out of the house with a slow step, that -quickened to a run when he saw Miss Laura "Laura!" he exclaimed, -"what are you doing?" Then he stopped and looked at the horse, not -in amazement, but very sorrowfully. "Barron is gone," he said, and -crumpling up a piece of paper, he put it in his pocket. "What is to be -done to these animals? There is a cow, isn't there?" - -He stepped to the door of the log hut, glanced in, and said, quickly: -"Do you feel able to drive home?" - -"Yes," said Miss Laura. - -"Sure?" and he eyed her anxiously. - -"Yes, yes," she returned; "what shall I get?" - -"Just tell father that Barron has run away and left a starving pig, cow, -and horse. There's not a thing to eat here. He'll know what to do. I'll -drive you to the road." - -Miss Laura got into the buggy and Mr. Harry jumped in after her. He -drove her to the road and put down the bars; then he said: "Go straight -on. You'll soon be on the open road, and there's nothing to harm you. -Joe will look after you. Meanwhile I'll go back to the house and heat -some water." - -Miss Laura let Fleetfoot go as fast as he liked on the way home, and it -only seemed a few minutes before we drove into the yard. Adele came out -to meet us. "Where's uncle?" asked Miss Laura. - -"Gone to de big meadow," said Adele. - -"And auntie?" - -"She had de colds and chills, and entered into de bed to keep warm. She -lose herself in sleep now. You not go near her." - -"Are there none of the men about?" asked Miss Laura. - -"No, mademoiselle. Dey all occupied way off." - -"Then you help me, Adele, like a good girl," said Miss Laura, hurrying -into the house. "We've found a sick horse and cow. What shall I take -them?" - -"Nearly all animals like de bran mash," said Adele. - -"Good!" cried Miss Laura. "That is the very thing. Put in the things to -make it, will you please, and I would like some vegetables for the -cow. Carrots, turnips, anything you have; take some of those you have -prepared for dinner to-morrow, and please run up to the barn, Adele, -and get some hay, and corn, and oats, not much, for we'll be going back -again; but hurry, for the poor things are starving, and have you any -milk for the pig? Put it in one of those tin kettles with covers." - -For a few minutes, Miss Laura and Adele flew about the kitchen, then we -set off again. Miss Laura took me in the buggy, for I was out of breath -and wheezing greatly. I had to sit on the seat beside her, for the -bottom of the buggy and the back were full of eatables for the poor -sick animals. Just as we drove into the road, we met Mr. Wood. "Are -you running away with the farm?" he said with a laugh, pointing to the -carrot tops that were gaily waving over the dashboard. - -Miss Laura said a few words to him, and with a very grave face he got in -beside her. In a short time, we were back on the lonely road. Mr. Harry -was waiting at the gate for us, and when he saw Miss Laura, he said, -"Why did you come back again? You'll be tired out. This isn't a place -for a sensitive girl like you." - -"I thought I might be of some use," said she, gently. - -"So you can," said Mr. Wood. "You go into the house and sit down, and -Harry and I will come to you when we want cheering up. What have you -been doing, Harry?" - -"I've watered them a little, and got a good fire going. I scarcely think -the cow will pull through. I think we'll save the horse. I tried to get -the cow out-doors, but she can't move." - -"Let her alone," said Mr. Wood. "Give her some food and her strength -will come to her. What have you got here?" and he began to take the -things out of the buggy. "Bless the child, she's thought of everything, -even the salt. Bring those things into the house, Harry, and we'll make -a bran mash." - -For more than an hour they were fussing over the animals. Then they came -in and sat down. The inside of the Englishman's house was as untidy -as the outside. There was no upstairs to it only one large room with a -dirty curtain stretched across it. On one side was a low bed with a heap -of clothes on it, a chair and a washstand. On the other was a stove, -a table, a shaky rocking-chair that Miss Laura was sitting in, a few -hanging shelves with some dishes and books on them, and two or three -small boxes that had evidently been used for seats. - -On the walls were tacked some pictures of grand houses and ladies and -gentlemen in fine clothes, and Miss Laura said that some of them were -noble people. "Well, I'm glad this particular nobleman has left us," -said Mr. Wood, seating himself on one of the boxes, "if nobleman he is. -I should call him in plain English, a scoundrel. Did Harry show you his -note?" - -"No, uncle," said Miss Laura. - -"Read it aloud," said Mr. Wood. "I'd like to hear it again." - -Miss Laura read: - -J. WOOD, Esq., Dear Sir: It is a matter of great regret to me that I am -suddenly called away from my place at Penhollow, and will therefore -not be able to do myself the pleasure of calling on you and settling -my little account. I sincere hope that the possession of my live stock, -which I make entirely over to you, will more than reimburse you for any -trifling expense which you may have incurred on my account. If it is any -gratification to you to know that you have rendered a slight assistance -to the son of one of England's noblest noblemen, you have it. With -expressions of the deepest respect, and hoping that my stock may be in -good condition when you take possession, - -I am, dear sir, ever devotedly yours, - -HOWARD ALGERNON LEDUC BARRON. - - -Miss Laura dropped the paper. "Uncle, did he leave those animals to -starve?" - -"Didn't you notice," said Mr. Wood, grimly, "that there wasn't a wisp of -hay inside that shanty, and that where the poor beasts were tied up the -wood was knawed and bitten by them in their torture for food? Wouldn't -he have sent me that note, instead of leaving it here on the table, if -he'd wanted me to know? The note isn't dated, but I judge he's been gone -five or six days. He has had a spite against me ever since I lent him -that hundred dollars. I don't know why, for I've stood up for him when -others would have run him out of the place. He intended me to come here -and find every animal lying dead. He even had a rope around the pig's -neck. Harry, my boy, let us go and look after them again. I love a dumb -brute too well to let it suffer, but in this case I'd give two hundred -dollars more if I could make them live and have Barron know it." - -They left the room, and Miss Laura sat turning the sheet of paper over -and over, with a kind of horror in her face. It was a very dirty piece -of paper, but by-and-by she made a discovery. She took it in her hand -and went out-doors. I am sure that the poor horse lying on the grass -knew her. He lifted his head, and what a different expression he had now -that his hunger had been partly satisfied. Miss Laura stroked and patted -him, then she called to her cousin, "Harry, will you look at this?" - -He took the paper from her, and said: "that is a crest shining through -the different strata of dust and grime, probably that of his own family. -We'll have it cleaned, and it will enable us to track the villain. You -want him punished, don't you?" he said, with a little, sly laugh at Mist -Laura. - -She made a gesture in the direction of the suffering horse, and said, -frankly, "Yes, I do." - -"Well, my dear girl," he said, "father and I are with you. If we can -hunt Barron down, we'll do it." Then he muttered to himself as she -turned away, "She is a real Puritan, gentle, and sweet, and good, and -yet severe. Rewards for the virtuous, punishments for the vicious," and -he repeated some poetry: - - "She was so charitable and so piteous, - She would weep if that she saw a mouse - Caught in a trap, if it were dead or bled." - -Miss Laura saw that Mr. Wood and Mr. Harry were doing all that could be -done for the cow and horse, so she wandered down to a hollow at the back -of the house, where the Englishman had kept his pig. Just now, he looked -more like a greyhound than a pig. His legs were so long, his nose so -sharp, and hunger, instead of making him stupid like the horse and cow, -had made him more lively. I think he had probably not suffered so much -as they had, or perhaps he had had a greater store of fat to nourish -him. Mr. Harry said that if he had been a girl, he would have laughed -and cried at the same time when he discovered that pig. He must have -been asleep or exhausted when we arrived, for there was not a sound out -of him, but shortly afterward he had set up a yelling that attracted Mr. -Harry's attention, and made him run down to him. Mr. Harry said he was -raging around his pen, digging the ground with his snout, falling down -and getting up again, and by a miracle, escaping death by choking from -the rope that was tied around his neck. - -Now that his hunger had been satisfied, he was gazing contentedly at -his little trough that was half full of good, sweet milk. Mr. Harry said -that a starving animal, like a starving person, should only be fed -a little at a time; but the Englishman's animals had always been fed -poorly, and their stomachs had contracted so that they could not eat -much at one time. - -Miss Laura got a stick and scratched poor piggy's back a little, and -then she went back to the house. In a short time we went home with Mr. -Wood. Mr. Harry was going to stay all night with the sick animals, and -his mother would send him things to make him comfortable. She was better -by the time we got home, and was horrified to hear the tale of Mr. -Barron's neglect. Later in the evening, she sent one of the men over -with a whole box full of things for her darling boy, and nice, hot tea, -done up for him in a covered dish. When the man came home, he said that -Mr. Harry would not sleep in the Englishman's dirty house, but had slung -a hammock out under the trees. However, he would not be able to sleep -much, for he had his lantern by his side, all ready to jump up and -attend to the horse and cow. It was a very lonely place for him out -there in the woods, and his mother said that she would be glad when the -sick animals could be driven to their own farm. - - - -CHAPTER XXVIII THE END OF THE ENGLISHMAN - -IN a few days, thanks to Mr. Harry's constant care, the horse and cow -were able to walk. It was a mournful procession that came into the yard -at Dingley Farm. The hollow-eyed horse, and lean cow, and funny, little -thin pig, staggering along in such a shaky fashion. Their hoofs were -diseased, and had partly rotted away, so that they could not walk -straight. Though it was only a mile or two from Penhollow to Dingley -Farm, they were tired out, and dropped down exhausted on their -comfortable beds. - -Miss Laura was so delighted to think that they had all lived, that she -did not know what to do. Her eyes were bright and shining, and she went -from one to another with such a happy face. The queer little pig that -Mr. Harry had christened "Daddy Longlegs," had been washed, and he lay -on his heap of straw in the corner of his neat little pen, and surveyed -his clean trough and abundance of food with the air of a prince. Why, he -would be clean and dry here, and all his life he had been used to dirty, -damp Penhollow, with the trees hanging over him, and his little feet in -a mass of filth and dead leaves. Happy little pig! His ugly eyes seemed -to blink and gleam with gratitude, and he knew Miss Laura and Mr. Harry -as well as I did. - -His tiny tail was curled so tight that it was almost in a knot. Mr. Wood -said that was a sign that he was healthy and happy: and that when poor -Daddy was at Penhollow he had noticed that his tail hung as limp and as -loose as the tail of a rat. He came and leaned over the pen with Miss -Laura, and had a little talk with her about pigs. He said they were by -no means the stupid animals that some people considered them. He had had -pigs that were as clever as dogs. One little black pig that he had once -sold to a man away back in the country had found his way home, through -the woods, across the river, up hill and down dale, and he'd been taken -to the place with a bag over his head. Mr. Wood said that he kept that -pig because he knew so much. - -He said the most knowing pigs he ever saw were Canadian pigs. One time -he was having a trip on a sailing vessel, and it anchored in a long, -narrow harbor in Canada, where the tide came in with a front four or -five feet high called the "bore." There was a village opposite the place -where the ship was anchored, and every day at low tide, a number of pigs -came down to look for shell-fish. Sometimes they went out for half a -mile over the mud flats, but always a few minutes before the tide came -rushing in they turned and hurried to the shore. Their instincts warned -them that if they stayed any longer they would be drowned. - -Mr. Wood had a number of pigs, and after a while Daddy was put in with -them, and a fine time he had of it making friends with the other little -grunters. They were often let out in the pasture or orchard, and when -they were there, I could always single out Daddy from among them, -because he was the smartest. Though he had been brought up in such a -miserable way, he soon learned to take very good care of himself at -Dingley Farm, and it was amusing to see him when a storm was coming on, -running about in a state of great excitement carrying little bundles of -straw in his mouth to make himself a bed. He was a white pig, and was -always kept very clean. Mr. Wood said that it is wrong to keep pigs -dirty. They like to be clean as well as other animals, and if they were -kept so, human beings would not get so many diseases from eating their -flesh. - -The cow, poor unhappy creature, never, as long as she lived on Dingley -Farm, lost a strange melancholy look from her eyes. I have heard it said -that animals forget past unhappiness, and perhaps some of them do. I -know that I have never forgotten my one miserable year with Jenkins, -and I have been a sober, thoughtful dog in consequence of it, and not -playful like some dogs who have never known what it is to be really -unhappy. - -It always seemed to me that the Englishman's cow was thinking of her -poor dead calf, starved to death by her cruel master. She got well -herself, and came and went with the other cows, seemingly as happy as -they, but often when I watched her standing chewing her cud, and looking -away in the distance, I could see a difference between her face and the -faces of the cows that had always been happy on Dingley Farm. Even the -farm hands called her "Old Melancholy," and soon she got to be known by -that name, or Mel, for short. Until she got well, she was put into -the cow stable, where Mr. Wood's cows all stood at night upon raised -platforms of earth covered over with straw litter, and she was tied -with a Dutch halter, so that she could lie down and go to sleep when she -wanted to. When she got well, she was put out to pasture with the other -cows. - -The horse they named "Scrub," because he could never be, under any -circumstance, anything but a broken-down, plain-looking animal. He -was put into the horse stable in a stall next Fleetfoot, and as the -partition was low, they could look over at each other. In time, by dint -of much doctoring, Scrub's hoofs became clean and sound and he was able -to do some work. Miss Laura petted him a great deal. She often took out -apples to the stable, and Fleetfoot would throw up his beautiful head -and look reproachfully over the partition at her, for she always stayed -longer with Scrub than with him, and Scrub always got the larger share -of whatever good thing was going. - -Poor old Scrub! I think he loved Miss Laura. He was a stupid sort of a -horse, and always acted as if he was blind. He would run his nose up and -down the front of her dress, nip at the buttons, and be very happy if he -could get a bit of her watch-chain between his strong teeth. If he was -in the field he never seemed to know her till she was right under his -pale-colored eyes. Then he would be delighted to see her. He was not -blind, though, for Mr. Wood said he was not. He said he had probably not -been an over-bright horse to start with, and had been made more dull by -cruel usage. - -As for the Englishman, the master of these animals, a very strange thing -happened to him. He came to a terrible end, but for a long time no one -knew anything about it. Mr. Wood and Mr. Harry were so very angry -with him that they said they would leave no stone unturned to have him -punished, or at least to have it known what a villain he was. They sent -the paper with the crest on it to Boston. Some people there wrote to -England, and found out that it was the crest of a noble and highly -esteemed family, and some earl was at the head of it. They were all -honorable people in this family except one man, a nephew, not a son, of -the late earl. He was the black sheep of them all. As a young man, he -had led a wild and wicked life, and had ended by forging the name of one -of his friends, so that he was obliged to leave England and take refuge -in America. By the description of this man, Mr. Wood knew that he must -be Mr. Barron, so he wrote to these English people, and told them what -a wicked thing their relative had done in leaving his animals to starve. -In a short time, he got an answer from them, which was, at the same -time, very proud and very touching. It came from Mr. Barron's cousin, -and he said quite frankly that he knew his relative was a man of evil -habits, but it seemed as if nothing could be done to reform him. His -family was accustomed to send a quarterly allowance to him, on -condition that he led a quiet life in some retired place, but their last -remittance to him was lying unclaimed in Boston, and they thought he -must be dead. Could Mr. Wood tell them anything about him? - -Mr. Wood looked very thoughtful when he got this letter, then he said, -"Harry, how long is it since Barron ran away?" - -"About eight weeks," said Mr. Harry. - -"That's strange," said Mr. Wood. "The money these English people sent -him would get to Boston just a few days after he left here. He is not -the man to leave it long unclaimed. Something must have happened to him. -Where do you suppose he would go from Penhollow?" - -"I have no idea, sir," said Mr. Harry. - -"And how would he go?" said Mr. Wood. "He did not leave Riverdale -Station, because he would have been spotted by some of his creditors." - -"Perhaps he would cut through the woods to the Junction," said Mr. -Harry. - -"Just what he would do," said Mr. Wood, slapping his knee. "I'll be -driving over there to-morrow to see Thompson, and I'll make inquiries." - -Mr. Harry spoke to his father the next night when he came home, and -asked him if he had found out anything. "Only this," said Mr. Wood. -"There's no one answering to Barron's description who has left Riverdale -Junction within a twelvemonth. He must have struck some other station. -We'll let him go. The Lord looks out for fellows like that." - -"We will look out for him if he ever comes back to Riverdale," said Mr. -Harry, quietly. All through the village, and in the country it was known -what a dastardly trick the Englishman had played, and he would have been -roughly handled if he had dared return. - -Months passed away, and nothing was heard of him. Late in the autumn, -after Miss Laura and I had gone back to Fairport, Mrs. Wood wrote her -about the end of the Englishman. Some Riverdale lads were beating about -the woods, looking for lost cattle, and in their wanderings came to an -old stone quarry that had been disused for years. On one side there was -a smooth wall of rock, many feet deep. On the other the ground and rock -were broken away, and it was quite easy to get into it. They found that -by some means or other, one of their cows had fallen into this deep pit, -over the steep side of the quarry. Of course the poor creature was dead, -but the boys, out of curiosity, resolved to go down and look at her. -They clambered down, found the cow, and, to their horror and -amazement, discovered near-by the skeleton of a man. There was a -heavy walking-stick by his side, which they recognized as one that the -Englishman had carried. - -He was a drinking man, and perhaps he had taken something that he -thought would strengthen him for his morning's walk, but which had, on -the contrary, bewildered him, and made him lose his way and fall -into the quarry. Or he might have started before daybreak, and in the -darkness have slipped and fallen down this steep wall of rock. One leg -was doubled under him, and if he had not been instantly killed by the -fall, he must have been so disabled that he could not move. In that -lonely place, he would call for help in vain, so he may have perished by -the terrible death of starvation the death he had thought to mete out to -his suffering animals. - -Mrs. Wood said that there was never a sermon preached in Riverdale that -had the effect that the death of this wicked man had, and it reminded -her of a verse in the Bible: "He made a pit and he digged it, and is -fallen into the ditch which he made." Mrs. Wood said that her husband -had written about the finding of Mr. Barron's body to his English -relatives, and had received a letter from them in which they seemed -relieved to hear that he was dead. They thanked Mr. Wood for his plain -speaking in telling them of their relative's misdeeds, and said that -from all they knew of Mr. Barron's past conduct, his influence would be -for evil and not for good, in any place that he choose to live in. They -were having their money sent from Boston to Mr. Wood, and they wished -him to expend it in the way he thought best fitted to counteract the -evil effects of their namesake's doings in Riverdale. - -When this money came, it amounted to some hundreds of dollars. Mr. -Wood would have nothing to do with it. He handed it over to the Band of -Mercy, and they formed what they called the "Barron Fund," which they -drew upon when they wanted money for buying and circulating humane -literature. Mrs. Wood said that the fund was being added to, and the -children were sending all over the State leaflets and little books which -preached the gospel of kindness to God's lower creation. A stranger -picking one of them up, and seeing the name of the wicked Englishman -printed on the title-page, would think that he was a friend and -benefactor to the Riverdale people the very opposite of what he gloried -in being. - - - -CHAPTER XXIX A TALK ABOUT SHEEP - -MISS LAURA was very much interested in the sheep on Dingley Farm. There -was a flock in the orchard near the house that she often went to see. -She always carried roots and vegetables to them, turnips particularly, -for they were very fond of them; but they would not come to her to get -them, for they did not know her voice. They only lifted their heads -and stared at her when she called them. But when they heard Mr. Wood's -voice, they ran to the fence, bleating with pleasure, and trying to -push their noses through to get the carrot or turnip, or whatever he was -handing to them. He called them his little Southdowns, and he said he -loved his sheep, for they were the most gentle and inoffensive creature -that he had on his farm. - -One day when he came into the kitchen inquiring for salt, Miss Laura -said: "Is it for the sheep?" - -"Yes," he replied; "I am going up to the woods pasture to examine my -Shropshires." - -"You would like to go too, Laura," said Mrs. Wood. "Take your hands -right away from that cake. I'll finish frosting it for you. Run along -and get your broad-brimmed hat. It's very hot." - -Miss Laura danced out into the hall and back again, and soon we were -walking up, back of the house, along a path that led us through the -fields to the pasture. "What are you going to do, uncle?" she said; "and -what are those funny things in your hands?" - -"Toe-clippers," he replied; "and I am going to examine the sheeps' -hoofs. You know we've had warm, moist weather all through July, and -I'm afraid of foot-rot. Then they're sometimes troubled with overgrown -hoofs." - -"What do you do if they get foot-rot?" asked Miss Laura. - -"I've various cures," he said. "Paring and clipping, and dipping the -hoof in blue vitriol and vinegar, or rubbing it on, as the English -shepherds do. It destroys the diseased part, but doesn't affect the -sound." - -"Do sheep have many diseases?" asked Miss Laura. "I know one of them -myself that is the scab." - -"A nasty thing that," said Mr. Wood, vigorously; "and a man that builds -up a flock from a stockyard often finds it out to his cost." - -"What is it like?" asked Miss Laura. - -"The sheep get scabby from a microbe under the skin, which causes them -to itch fearfully, and they lose their wool." - -"And can't it be cured?" - -"Oh, yes! with time and attention. There are different remedies. I -believe petroleum is the best." - -By this time we had got to a wide gate that opened into the pasture. -As Mr. Wood let Miss Laura go through and then closed it behind her, he -said, "You are looking at that gate. You want to know why it is so long, -don't you?" - -"Yes, uncle," she said; "but I can't bear to ask so many questions." - -"Ask as many as you like," he said, good-naturedly. "I don't mind -answering them. Have you ever seen sheep pass through a gate or door?" - -"Oh, yes, often." - -"And how do they act?" - -"Oh, so silly, uncle. They hang back, and one waits for another, and, -finally, they all try to go at once." - -"Precisely; when one goes they all want to go, if it was to jump into -a bottomless pit. Many sheep are injured by overcrowding, so I have my -gates and doors very wide. Now, let us call them up." There wasn't one -in sight, but when Mr. Wood lifted up his voice and cried: "Ca nan, nan, -nan!" black faces began to peer out from among the bushes; and little -black legs, carrying white bodies, came hurrying up the stony paths from -the cooler parts of the pasture. Oh, how glad they were to get the salt! -Mr. Wood let Miss Laura spread it on some flat rocks, then they sat down -on a log under a tree and watched them eating it and licking the rocks -when it was all gone. Miss Laura sat; fanning herself with her hat and -smiling at them. "You funny, woolly things," she said "You're not -so stupid as some people think you are. Lie still, Joe. If you show -yourself, they may run away." - -I crouched behind the log, and only lifted my head occasionally to see -what the sheep were doing. Some of them went back into the woods, for -it was very hot in this bare part of the pasture, but the most of them -would not leave Mr. Wood, and stood staring at him. "That's a fine -sheep, isn't it?" said Miss Laura, pointing to one with the blackest -face, and the blackest legs, and largest body of those near us. - -"Yes; that's old Jessica. Do you notice how she's holding her head close -to the ground?" - -"Yes; is there any reason for it?" - -"There is. She's afraid of the grub fly. You often see sheep holding -their noses in that way in the summer time. It is to prevent the fly -from going into their nostrils, and depositing an egg which will turn -into a grub and annoy and worry them. When the fly comes near, they give -a sniff and run as if they were crazy, still holding their noses close -to the ground. When I was a boy, and the sheep did that, we thought that -they had colds in their heads, and used to rub tar on their noses. We -knew nothing about the fly then, but the tar cured them, and is just -what I use now. Two or three times a month during hot weather, we put a -few drops of it on the nose of every sheep in the flock." - -"I suppose farmers are like other people, and are always finding out -better ways of doing their work, aren't they, uncle?" said Miss Laura. - -"Yes, my child. The older I grow, the more I find out, and the -better care I take of my stock. My grandfather would open his eyes in -amazement, and ask me if I was an old women petting her cats if he were -alive, and could know the care I give my sheep. He used to let his flock -run till the fields were covered with snow, and bite as close as they -liked, till there wasn't a scrap of feed left. Then he would give them -an open shed to run under, and throw down their hay outside. Grain they -scarcely knew the taste of. That they would fall off in flesh, and half -of them lose their lambs in the spring, was an expected thing. He would -say I had them kennelled, if he could see my big, closed sheds, with -the sunny windows that my flock spend the winter in. I even house them -during the bad fall storms. They can run out again. Indeed, I like to -get them in, and have a snack of dry food, to break them in to it. They -are in and out of those sheds all winter. You must go in, Laura, and -see the self-feeding racks. On bright, winter days they get a run in -the cornfields. Cold doesn't hurt sheep. It's the heavy rain that soaks -their fleeces. - -"With my way I seldom lose a sheep, and they're the most profitable -stock I have. If I could not keep them, I think I'd give up farming. -Last year my lambs netted me eight dollars each. The fleeces of the ewes -average eight pounds, and sell for two dollars each. That's something to -brag of in these days, when so many are giving up the sheep industry." - -"How many sheep have you, uncle?" asked Miss Laura. - -"Only fifty, now. Twenty-five here and twenty-five down below in the -orchard. I've been selling a good many this spring." - -"These sheep are larger than those in the orchard, aren't they?" said -Miss Laura. - -"Yes; I keep those few Southdowns for their fine quality. I don't make -as much on them as I do on these Shropshires. For an all-around sheep -I like the Shropshire. It's good for mutton, for wool, and for rearing -lambs. There's a great demand for mutton nowadays, all through our -eastern cities. People want more and more of it. And it has to be -tender, and juicy, and finely flavored, so a person has to be particular -about the feed the sheep get." - -"Don't you hate to have these creatures killed that you have raised and -tended so carefully?" said Miss Laura with a little shudder. - -"I do," said her uncle; "but never an animal goes off my place that I -don't know just how it's going to be put to death. None of your sending -sheep to market with their legs tied together and jammed in a cart, and -sweating and suffering for me. They've got to go standing comfortably -on their legs, or go not at all. And I'm going to know the butcher -that kills my animals, that have been petted like children. I said to -Davidson, over there in Hoytville, 'If I thought you would herd my sheep -and lambs and calves together, and take them one by one in sight of the -rest, and stick your knife into them, or stun them, and have the others -lowing, and bleating, and crying in their misery, this is the last -consignment you would ever get from me.' - -"He said, 'Wood, I don't like my business, but on the word of an honest -man, my butchering is done as well as it can be. Come and see for -yourself.' - -"He took me to his slaughter-house, and though I didn't stay long, I saw -enough to convince me that he spoke the truth. He has different pens and -sheds, and the killing is done as quietly as possible; the animals are -taken in one by one, and though the others suspect what is going on, -they can't see it." - -"These sheep are a long way from the house," said Miss Laura; "don't the -dogs that you were telling me about attack them?" - -"No; for since I had that brush with Windham's dog, I've trained them -to go and come with the cows. It's a queer thing, but cows that will run -from a dog when they are alone will fight him if he meddles with their -calves or the sheep. There's not a dog around that would dare to come -into this pasture, for he knows the cows would be after him with lowered -horns, and a business look in their eyes. The sheep in the orchard -are safe enough, for they're near the house, and if a strange dog came -around, Joe would settle him, wouldn't you, Joe?" and Mr. Wood looked -behind the log at me. - -I got up and put my head on his arm, and he went on: "By and by, the -Southdowns will be changed up here, and the Shropshires will go down -to the orchard. I like to keep one flock under my fruit trees. You know -there is an old proverb 'The sheep has a golden hoof.' They save me the -trouble of ploughing. I haven't ploughed my orchard for ten years, and -don't expect to plough it for ten years more. Then your Aunt Hattie's -hens are so obliging that they keep me from the worry of finding ticks -at shearing time. All the year round, I let them run among the sheep, -and they nab every tick they see." - -"How closely sheep bite," exclaimed Miss Laura, pointing to one that was -nibbling almost at his master's feet. - -"Very close, and they eat a good many things that cows don't relish -bitter weeds, and briars and shrubs, and the young ferns that come up in -the spring." - -"I wish I could get hold of one of those dear little lambs," said Miss -Laura. "See that sweet little blackie back in the alders. Could you not -coax him up?" - -"He wouldn't come here," said her uncle kindly; "but I'll try end get -him for you." - -He rose, and after several efforts succeeded in capturing the -black-faced creature, and bringing him up to the log. He was very shy of -Miss Laura, but Mr. Wood held him firmly, and let her stroke his head -as much as she liked. "You call him little," said Mr. Wood; "if you put -your arm around him, you'll find he's a pretty: substantial lamb. He was -born in March. This is the last of July; he'll be shorn the middle of -next month, and think he's quite grown up. Poor little animal! he had -quite a struggle for life. The sheep were turned out to pasture in -April. They can't bear confinement as well as the cows, and as they bite -closer they can be turned out earlier, and get on well by having good -rations of corn in addition to the grass, which is thin and poor so -early in the spring. This young creature was running by his mother's -side, rather a weak-legged, poor specimen of a lamb. Every night the -flock was put under shelter, for the ground was cold, and though -the sheep might not suffer from lying out-doors, the lambs would get -chilled. One night this fellow's mother got astray, and as Ben neglected -to make the count, she wasn't missed. I'm always anxious about my lambs -in the spring and often get up in the night to look after them. That -night I went out about two o'clock. I took it into my head, for some -reason or other, to count them. I found a sheep and lamb missing, took -my lantern and Bruno, who was some good at tracking sheep, and started -out. Bruno barked and I called, and the foolish creature came to me, the -little lamb staggering after her. I wrapped the lamb in my coat, took it -to the house, made a fire, and heated some milk. Your Aunt Hattie heard -me and got up. She won't let me give brandy even to a dumb beast, so I -put some ground sugar, which is just as good, in the milk, and forced -it down the lamb's throat. Then we wrapped an old blanket round him, and -put him near the stove, and the next evening he was ready to go back -to his mother. I petted him all through April, and gave him extras -different kinds of meal, till I found what suited him best; now he does -me credit." - -"Dear little lamb," said Miss Laura, patting him, "How can you tell him -from the others, uncle?" - -"I know all their faces, Laura. A flock of sheep is just like a crowd -of people. They all have different expressions, and have different -dispositions." - -"They all look alike to me," said Miss Laura. - -"I dare say. You are not accustomed to them. Do you know how to tell a -sheep's age?" - -"No, uncle." - -"Here, open your mouth, Cosset," he said to the lamb that he still held. -"At one year they have two teeth in the centre of the jaw. They get two -teeth more every year up to five years. Then we say they have 'a full -mouth.' After that you can't tell their age exactly by the teeth. Now, -run back to your mother," and he let the lamb go. - -"Do they always know their own mothers?" asked Miss Laura. - -"Usually. Sometimes a ewe will not own her lamb. In that case we tie -them up in a separate stall till she recognizes it. Do you see that -sheep over there by the blueberry bushes the one with the very pointed -ears?" - -"Yes, uncle," said Miss Laura. - -"That lamb by her side is not her own. Hers died and we took its fleece -and wrapped it around a twin lamb that we took from another ewe, and -gave to her. She soon adopted it. Now, come this way, and I'll show you -our movable feeding troughs." - -He got up from the log, and Miss Laura followed him to the fence. "These -big troughs are for the sheep," said Mr. Wood, "and these shallow ones -in the enclosure are for the lambs. See, there is just room enough for -them to get under the fence. You should see the small creatures rush to -them whenever we appear with their oats, and wheat, or bran, or whatever -we are going to give them. If they are going to the butcher, they get -corn meal and oil meal. Whatever it is, they eat it up clean. I don't -believe in cramming animals. I feed them as much as is good for them, -and not any more. Now, you go sit down over there behind those bushes -with Joe, and I'll attend to business." - -Miss Laura found a shady place, and I curled myself up beside her. We -sat there a long time, but we did not get tired, for it was amusing to -watch the sheep and lambs. After a while, Mr. Wood came and sat down -beside us. He talked some more about sheep-raising; then he said, "You -may stay here longer if you like, but I must get down to the house. The -work must be done, if the weather is hot." - -"What are you going to do now?" asked Miss Laura, jumping up. - -"Oh! more sheep business. I've set out some young trees in the orchard, -and unless I get chicken wire around them, my sheep will be barking them -for me." - -"I've seen them," said Miss Laura, "standing up on their hind legs and -nibbling at the trees, taking off every shoot they can reach." - -"They don't hurt the old trees," said Mr. Wood; "but the young ones have -to be protected. It pays me to take care of my fruit trees, for I get a -splendid crop from them, thanks to the sheep." - -"Good-bye, little lambs and dear old sheep," said Miss Laura, as her -uncle opened the gate for her to leave the pasture. "I'll come and see -you again some time. Now, you had better go down to the brook in the -dingle and have a drink. You look hot in your warm coats." - -"You've mastered one detail of sheep-keeping," said Mr. Wood, as he -slowly walked along beside his niece. "To raise healthy sheep one must -have pure water where they can get to it whenever they like. Give -them good water, good food, and a variety of it, good quarters cool in -summer, comfortable in winter, and keep them quiet, and you'll make them -happy and make money on them." - -"I think I'd like sheep-raising," said Miss Laura; "won't you have me -for your flock mistress, uncle?" - -He laughed, and said he thought not, for she would cry every time any of -her charge were sent to the butcher. - -After this Miss Laura and I often went up to the pasture to see the -sheep and the lambs. We used to get into a shady place where they could -not see us, and watch them. One day I got a great surprise about the -sheep. I had heard so much about their meekness that I never dreamed -that they would fight; but it turned out that they did, and they went -about it in such a business-like way, that I could not help smiling -at them. I suppose that like most other animals they had a spice of -wickedness in them. On this day a quarrel arose between two sheep; but -instead of running at each other like two dogs they went a long distance -apart, and then came rushing at each other with lowered heads. Their -object seemed to be to break each other's skull; but Miss Laura soon -stopped them by calling out and frightening them apart. I thought that -the lambs were more interesting than the sheep. Sometimes they fed -quietly by their mothers' sides, and at other times they all huddled -together on the top of some flat rock or in a bare place, and seemed to -be talking to each other with their heads close together. Suddenly -one would jump down, and start for the bushes or the other side of the -pasture. They would all follow pell-mell; then in a few minutes they -would come rushing back again. It was pretty to see them playing -together and having a good time before the sorrowful day of their death -came. - - - -CHAPTER XXX A JEALOUS OX - -MR. WOOD had a dozen calves that he was raising, and Miss Laura -sometimes went up to the stable to see them. Each calf was in a crib, -and it was fed with milk. They had gentle, patient faces, and beautiful -eyes, and looked very meek, as they stood quietly gazing about them, or -sucking away at their milk. They reminded me of big, gentle dogs. - -I never got a very good look at them in their cribs, but one day when -they were old enough to be let out, I went up with Miss Laura to the -yard where they were kept. Such queer, ungainly, large-boned creatures -they were, and such a good time they were having, running and jumping -and throwing up their heels. - -Mrs. Wood was with us, and she said that it was not good for calves to -be closely penned after they got to be a few weeks old. They were better -for getting out and having a frolic. She stood beside Miss Laura for -a long time, watching the calves, and laughing a great deal at their -awkward gambols. They wanted to play, but they did not seem to know how -to use their limbs. - -They were lean calves, and Miss Laura asked her aunt why all the nice -milk they had taken had not made them fat. "The fat will come all in -good time," said Mrs. Wood. "A fat calf makes a poor cow, and a fat, -small calf isn't profitable to fit for sending to the butcher. It's -better to have a bony one and fatten it. If you come here next summer, -you'll see a fine show of young cattle, with fat sides, and big, -open horns, and a good coat of hair. Can you imagine," she went on, -indignantly, "that any one could be cruel enough to torture such a -harmless creature as a calf?" - -"No, indeed," replied Miss Laura. "Who has been doing it?" - -"Who has been doing it?" repeated Mrs. Wood, bitterly; "they are doing -it all the time. Do you know what makes the nice, white veal one gets -in big cities? The calves are bled to death. They linger for hours, and -moan their lives away. The first time I heard it, I was so angry that -I cried for a day, and made John promise that he'd never send another -animal of his to a big city to be killed. That's why all of our stock -goes to Hoytville, and small country places. Oh, those big cities are -awful places, Laura. It seems to me that it makes people wicked to -huddle them together. I'd rather live in a desert than a city. There's -Ch o. Every night since I've been there I pray to the Lord either to -change the hearts of some of the wicked people in it, or to destroy them -off the face of the earth. You know three years ago I got run down, -and your uncle said I'd got to have a change, so he sent me off to my -brother's in Ch o. I stayed and enjoyed myself pretty well, for it is -a wonderful city, till one day some Western men came in, who had been -visiting the slaughter houses outside the city. I sat and listened to -their talk, and it seemed to me that I was hearing the description of a -great battle. These men were cattle dealers, and had been sending stock -to Ch o, and they were furious that men, in their rage for wealth, would -so utterly ignore and trample on all decent and humane feelings as to -torture animals as the Ch o men were doing. - -"It is too dreadful to repeat the sights they saw. I listened till they -were describing Texan steers kicking in agony under the torture that was -practised, and then I gave a loud scream, and fainted dead away. They -had to send for your uncle, and he brought me home, and for days and -days I heard nothing but shouting and swearing, and saw animals dripping -with blood, and crying and moaning in their anguish, and now, Laura, if -you'd lay down a bit of Ch o meat, and cover it with gold, I'd spurn it -from me. But what am I saying? you're as white as a sheet. Come and see -the cow stable. John's just had it whitewashed." - -Miss Laura took her aunt's arm, and I walked slowly behind them. The cow -stable was a long building, well-built, and with no chinks in the walls, -as Jenkins's stable had. There were large windows where the afternoon -sun came streaming in, and a number of ventilators, and a great many -stalls. A pipe of water ran through the stalls from one end of the -stable to the other. The floor was covered with sawdust and leaves, and -the ceiling and tops of the walls were whitewashed. Mrs. Wood said that -her husband would not have the walls a glare of white right down to the -floor, because he thought it injured the animals' eyes. So the lower -parts of the walls were stained a dark, brown color. - -There were doors at each end of the stable, and just now they stood -open, and a gentle breeze was blowing through, but Mrs. Wood said that -when the cattle stood in the stalls, both doors were never allowed to -be open at the same time. Mr. Wood was most particular to have no drafts -blowing upon his cattle. He would not have them chilled, and he would -not have them overheated. One thing was as bad as the other. And during -the winter they were never allowed to drink icy water. He took the chill -off the water for his cows, just as Mrs. Wood did for her hens. - -"You know, Laura," Mrs. Wood went on, "that when cows are kept dry -and warm, they eat less than when they are cold and wet. They are so -warm-blooded that if they are cold, they have to eat a great deal to -keep up the heat of their bodies, so it pays better to house and feed -them well. They like quiet, too. I never knew that till I married your -uncle. On our farm, the boys always shouted and screamed at the cows -when they were driving them, and sometimes they made them run. They're -never allowed to do that here." - -"I have noticed how quiet this farm seems," said Miss Laura. "You have -so many men about, and yet there is so little noise." - -"Your uncle whistles a great deal," said Mrs. Wood. "Have you noticed -that? He whistles when he's about his work, and then he has a calling -whistle that nearly all of the animals know, and the men run when -they hear it. You'd see every cow in this stable turn its head, if he -whistled in a certain way outside. He says that he got into the way of -doing it when he was a boy and went for his father's cows. He trained -them so that he'd just stand in the pasture and whistle, and they'd come -to him. I believe the first thing that inclined me to him was his -clear, happy whistle. I'd hear him from our house away down on the road, -jogging along with his cart, or driving in his buggy. He says there is -no need of screaming at any animal. It only frightens and angers them. -They will mind much better if you speak clearly and distinctly. He says -there is only one thing an animal hates more than to be shouted at, and -that's to be crept on to have a person sneak up to it and startle it. -John says many a man is kicked, because he comes up to his horse like -a thief. A startled animal's first instinct is to defend itself. A dog -will spring at you, and a horse will let his heels fly. John always -speaks or whistles to let the stock know when he's approaching." - -"Where is uncle this afternoon?" asked Miss Laura. - -"Oh, up to his eyes in hay. He's even got one of the oxen harnessed to a -hay cart." - -"I wonder whether it's Duke?" said Miss Laura. - -"Yes, it is. I saw the star on his forehead," replied Mrs. Wood. - -"I don't know when I have laughed at anything as much as I did at him -the other day," said Miss Laura. "Uncle asked me if I had ever heard -of such a thing as a jealous ox, and I said no. He said, 'Come to the -barnyard, and I'll show you one.' The oxen were both there, Duke with -his broad face, and Bright so much sharper and more intelligent looking. -Duke was drinking at the trough there, and uncle said: 'Just look at -him. Isn't he a great, fat, self-satisfied creature, and doesn't he look -as if he thought the world owed him a living, and he ought to get it?' -Then he got the card and went up to Bright, and began scratching him. -Duke lifted his head from the trough, and stared at uncle, who paid no -attention to him but went on carding Bright, and stroking and petting -him. Duke looked so angry. He left the trough, and with the water -dripping from his lips, went up to uncle, and gave him a push with his -horns. Still uncle took no notice, and Duke almost pushed him over. Then -uncle left off petting Bright, and turned to him. He said Duke would -have treated him roughly, if he hadn't. I never saw a creature look as -satisfied as Duke did, when uncle began to card him. Bright didn't seem -to care, and only gazed calmly at them." - -"I've seen Duke do that again and again," said Mrs. Wood. "He's the most -jealous animal that we have, and it makes him perfectly miserable -to have your uncle pay attention to any animal but him. What queer -creatures these dumb brutes are. They're pretty much like us in most -ways. They're jealous and resentful, and they can love or hate equally -well and forgive, too, for that matter; and suffer how they can suffer, -and so patiently, too. Where is the human being that would put up with -the tortures that animals endure and yet come out so patient?" - -"Nowhere," said Miss Laura, in a low voice "we couldn't do it." - -"And there doesn't seem to be an animal," Mrs. Wood went on, "no matter -how ugly and repulsive it is, but what has some lovable qualities. I -have just been reading about some sewer rats, Louise Michel's rats." - -"Who is she?" asked Miss Laura. - -"A celebrated Frenchwoman, my dear child, 'the priestess of pity and -vengeance,' Mr. Stead calls her. You are too young to know about her -but I remember reading of her in 1872, during the Commune troubles -in France. She is an anarchist, and she used to wear a uniform, and -shoulder a rifle, and help to build barricades. She was arrested and -sent as a convict to one of the French penal colonies. She has a most -wonderful love for animals in her heart, and when she went home she took -four cats with her. She was put into prison again in France and took the -cats with her. Rats came about her cell and she petted them and taught -her cats to be kind to them. Before she got the cats thoroughly drilled -one of them bit a rat's paw. Louise nursed the rat till it got well, -then let it down by a string from her window. It went back to its sewer, -and, I suppose, told the other rats how kind Louise had been to it, for -after that they came to her cell without fear. Mother rats brought their -young ones and placed them at her feet, as if to ask her protection for -them. The most remarkable thing about them was their affection for each -other. Young rats would chew the crusts thrown to old toothless rats, -so that they might more easily eat them, and if a young rat dared help -itself before an old one, the others punished it." - -"That sounds very interesting, auntie," said Miss Laura. "Where did you -read it?" - -"I have just got the magazine," said Mrs. Wood; "you shall have it as -soon as you come into the house." - -"I love to be with you, dear auntie," said Miss Laura, putting her arm -affectionately around her, as they stood in the doorway; "because you -understand me when I talk about animals. I can't explain it," went on my -dear young mistress, laying her hand on her heart, "the feeling I have -here for them. I just love a dumb creature, and I want to stop and talk -to every one I see. Sometimes I worry poor Bessie Drury, and I'm so -sorry, but I can't help it. She says, 'What makes you so silly, Laura?'" - -Miss Laura was standing just where the sunlight shone through her -light-brown hair, and made her face all in a glow. I thought she looked -more beautiful than I had ever seen her before, and I think Mrs. Wood -thought the same. She turned around and put both hands on Miss Laura's -shoulders. "Laura," she said, earnestly, "there are enough cold hearts -in the world. Don't you ever stifle a warm or tender feeling toward a -dumb creature. That is your chief attraction, my child: your love for -everything that breathes and moves. Tear out the selfishness from your -heart, if there is any there, but let the love and pity stay. And now -let me talk a little more to you about the cows. I want to interest you -in dairy matters. This stable is new since you were here, and we've made -a number of improvements. Do you see those bits of rock salt in each -stall? They are for the cows to lick whenever they want to. Now, come -here, and I'll show you what we call 'The Black Hole.'" - -It was a tiny stable off the main one, and it was very dark and cool. -"Is this a place of punishment?" asked Miss Laura, in surprise. - -Mrs. Wood laughed heartily. "No, no; a place of pleasure. Sometimes -when the flies are very bad and the cows are brought into the yard to be -milked and a fresh swarm settles on them, they are nearly frantic; and -though they are the best cows in New Hampshire, they will kick a little. -When they do, those that are the worst are brought in here to be milked -where there are no flies. The others have big strips of cotton laid over -their backs and tied under them, and the men brush their legs with tansy -tea, or water with a little carbolic acid in it. That keeps the flies -away, and the cows know just as well that it is done for their comfort, -and stand quietly till the milking is over. I must ask John to have -their nightdresses put on sometimes for you to see. Harry calls them -'sheeted ghosts,' and they do look queer enough sending all round the -barnyard robed in white." - - - -CHAPTER XXXI IN THE COW STABLE - -"ISN'T it a strange thing," said Miss Laura, "that a little thing like a -fly, can cause so much annoyance to animals as well to people? Sometimes -when I am trying to get more sleep in the morning, their little feet -tickle me so that I am nearly frantic and have to fly out of bed." - -"You shall have some netting to put over your bed," said Mrs. Wood; "but -suppose, Laura, you had no hands to brush away the flies. Suppose your -whole body was covered with them; and you were tied up somewhere and -could not get loose. I can't imagine more exquisite torture myself. -Last summer the flies here were dreadful. It seems to me that they -are getting worse and worse every year, and worry the animals more. I -believe it is because the birds are getting thinned out all over the -country. There are not enough of them to catch the flies. John says that -the next improvements we make on the farm are to be wire gauze at all -the stable windows and screen doers to keep the little pests from the -horses and cattle. - -"One afternoon last summer, Mr. Maxwell's mother came for me to go for a -drive with her. The heat was intense, and when we got down by the river, -she proposed getting out of the phaeton and sitting under the trees, to -see if it would be any cooler. She was driving a horse that she had -got from the hotel in the village, a roan horse that was clipped, -and check-reined, and had his tail docked. I wouldn't drive behind a -tailless horse now. Then, I wasn't so particular. However, I made her -unfasten the check-rein before I'd set foot in the carriage. Well, I -thought that horse would go mad. He'd tremble and shiver and look go -pitifully at us. The flies were nearly eating him up. Then he'd start a -little. Mrs. Maxwell had a weight at his head to hold him, but he could -easily have dragged that. He was a good dispositioned horse, and he -didn't want to run away, but he could not stand still. I soon jumped -up and slapped him, and rubbed him till my hands were dripping wet. The -poor brute was so grateful and would keep touching my arm with his nose. -Mrs. Maxwell sat under the trees fanning herself and laughing at me, but -I didn't care. How could I enjoy myself with a dumb creature writhing in -pain before me?" - -"A docked horse can neither eat nor sleep comfortably in the fly season. -In one of our New England villages they have a sign up, 'Horses taken -in to grass. Long tails, one dollar and fifty cents. Short tails, one -dollar.' And it just means that the short-tailed ones are taken on -cheaper, because they are so bothered by the flies that they can't eat -much, while the long-tailed ones are able to brush them away and eat in -peace. I read the other day of a Buffalo coal dealer's horse that was in -such an agony through flies, that he committed suicide. You know animals -will do that. I've read of horses and dogs drowning themselves. This -horse had been clipped and his tail was docked, and he was turned out -to graze. The flies stung him till he was nearly crazy. He ran up to a -picket fence, and sprang up on the sharp spikes. There he hung, making -no effort to get down. Some men saw him, and they said it was a clear -case of suicide. - -"I would like to have the power to take every man who cuts off a horse's -tail, and tie his hands, and turn him out in a field in the hot sun, -with little clothing on, and plenty of flies about. Then we would see -if he wouldn't sympathize with the poor, dumb beast. It's the most -senseless thing in the world, this docking fashion. They've a few flimsy -arguments about a horse with a docked tail being stronger-backed, like a -short-tailed sheep, but I don't believe a word of it. The horse was made -strong enough to do the work he's got to do, and man can't improve -on him. Docking is a cruel, wicked thing. Now, there's a ghost of an -argument in favor of check-reins, on certain occasions. A fiery, young -horse can't run away, with an overdrawn check, and in speeding horses a -tight check-rein will make them hold their heads up, and keep them from -choking. But I don't believe in raising colts in a way to make them -fiery, and I wish there wasn't a race horse on the face of the earth, so -if it depended race on me, every kind of check-rein would go. It's pity -we women can't vote, Laura. We'd do away with a good many abuses." - -Miss Laura smiled, but it was a very faint, almost an unhappy smile, and -Mrs. Wood said hastily, "Let us talk about something else. Did you ever -hear that cows will give less milk on a dark day than on a bright one?" - -"No; I never did," said Miss Laura. - -"Well, they do. They are most sensitive animals. One finds out all -manner of things about animals if he makes a study of them. Cows are -wonderful creatures, I think, and so grateful for good usage that they -return every scrap of care given them, with interest. Have you ever -heard anything about dehorning, Laura?" - -"Not much, auntie. Does uncle approve?" - -"No, indeed. He'd just as soon think of cutting their tails off, as of -dehorning them. He says he guesses the Creator knew how to make a cow -better than he does. Sometimes I tell John that his argument doesn't -hold good for a man in some ways can improve on nature. In the natural -course of things, a cow would be feeding her calf for half a year, but -we take it away from her, raise it as well as she could and get an extra -quantity of milk from her in addition. I don't know what to think myself -about dehorning. Mr. Windham's cattle are all polled, and he has an open -space in his barn for them, instead of keeping them in stalls, and he -says they're more comfortable and not so confined. I suppose in sending -cattle to sea, it's necessary to take their horns off, but when they're -going to be turned out to grass, it seems like mutilating them. Our cows -couldn't keep the dogs away from the sheep if they didn't have their -horns. Their horns are their means of defense." - -"Do your cattle stand in these stalls all winter?" asked Miss Laura. - -"Oh, yes, except when they're turned out in the barnyard, and then -John usually has to send a man to keep them moving or they'd take cold. -Sometimes on very fine days they get out all day. You know cows aren't -like horses. John says they're like great milk machines. You've got to -keep them quiet, only exercising enough to keep them in health. If a cow -is hurried or worried or chilled or heated, it stops her milk yield. And -bad usage poisons it. John says you can't take a stick and strike a -cow across the back, without her milk being that much worse, and as for -drinking the milk that comes from a cow that isn't kept clean, you'd -better throw it away and drink water. When I was in Chicago, my -sister-in-law kept complaining to her milkman about what she called the -'cowy' smell to her milk. 'It's the animal odor, ma'am,' he said, 'and -it can't be helped. All milk smells like that.' 'It's dirt,' I said, -when she asked my opinion about it. 'I'll wager my best bonnet that that -man's cows are kept dirty. Their skins are plastered up with filth and -as the poison in them can't escape that way, it's coming out through the -milk, and you're helping to dispose of it.' She was astonished to hear -this, and she got her milkman's address, and one day dropped in -upon him. She said that this cows were standing in a stable that was -comparatively clean, but that their bodies were in just the state that -I described them as living in. She advised the man to card and brush his -cows every day, and said that he need bring her no more milk. - -"That shows how you city people are imposed upon with regard to your -milk. I should think you'd be poisoned with the treatment your cows -receive; and even when your milk is examined you can't tell whether it -is pure or not. In New York the law only requires thirteen per cent. of -solids in milk. That's absurd, for you can feed a cow on swill and still -get fourteen per cent. of solids in it. Oh! you city people are queer." - -Miss Laura laughed heartily. "What a prejudice you have against large -towns, auntie." - -"Yes, I have," said Mrs. Wood, honestly. "I often wish we could break up -a few of our cities, and scatter the people through the country. Look at -the lovely farms all about here, some of them with only an old man and -woman on them. The boys are off to the cities, slaving in stores and -offices, and growing pale and sickly. It would have broken my heart if -Harry had taken to city ways. I had a plain talk with your uncle when -I married him, and said, 'Now my boy's only a baby and I want him to be -brought up so that he will love country life. How are we going to manage -it?' - -"Your uncle looked at me with a sly twinkle in his eye, and said I was a -pretty fair specimen of a country girl, suppose we brought up Harry -the way I'd been brought up. I knew he was only joking, yet I got quite -excited. 'Yes,' I said, 'Do as my father and mother did. Have a farm -about twice as large as you can manage. Don't keep a hired man. Get up -at daylight and slave till dark. Never take a holiday. Have the girls do -the housework, and take care of the hens, and help pick the fruit, and -make the boys tend the colts and the calves, and put all the money they -make in the bank. Don't take any papers, or they would waste their time -reading them, and it's too far to go the postoffice oftener than once -a week; and' but I don't remember the rest of what I said. Anyway, your -uncle burst into a roar of laughter. 'Hattie,' he said, 'my farm's too -big. I'm going to sell some of it, and enjoy myself a little more.' That -very week he sold fifty acres, and he hired an extra man, and got me a -good girl, and twice a week he left his work in the afternoon and took -me for a drive. Harry held the reins in his tiny fingers, and John told -him that Dolly, the old mare we were driving, should be called his, and -the very next horse he bought should be called his too, and he should -name it and have it for his own; and he would give him five sheep, -and he should have his own bank book and keep his accounts; and Harry -understood, mere baby though he was, and from that day he loved John as -his own father. If my father had had the wisdom that John has, his boys -wouldn't be the one a poor lawyer and the other a poor doctor in two -different cities; and our farm wouldn't be in the hands of strangers. It -makes me sick to go there. I think of my poor mother lying with her red -hands crossed out in the churchyard, and the boys so far away, and my -father always hurrying and driving us I can tell you, Laura, the thing -cuts both ways. It isn't all the fault of the boys that they leave the -country." - -Mrs. Wood was silent for a little while after she made this long speech, -and Miss Laura said nothing. I took a turn or two up and down the -stable, thinking of many things. No matter how happy human beings seem -to be, they always have something to worry them. I was sorry for Mrs. -Wood for her face had lost the happy look it usually wore. However, she -soon forgot her trouble, and said: - -"Now, I must go and get the tea. This is Adele's afternoon out." - -"I'll come, too," said Miss Laura, "for I promised her I'd make the -biscuits for tea this evening and let you rest." They both sauntered -slowly down the plank walk to the house, and I followed them. - - - -CHAPTER XXXII OUR RETURN HOME - -IN October, the most beautiful of all the months, we were obliged to go -back to Fairport. Miss Laura could not bear to leave the farm, and her -face got very sorrowful when any one spoke of her going away. Still, she -had gotten well and strong, and was as brown as a berry, and she said -that she knew she ought to go home, and get back to her lessons. - -Mr. Wood called October the golden month. Everything was quiet and -still, and at night and in the morning the sun had a yellow, misty look. -The trees in the orchard were loaded with fruit, and some of the leaves -were floating down, making a soft covering on the ground. - -In the garden there were a great many flowers in bloom, in flaming red -and yellow colors. Miss Laura gathered bunches of them every day to -put in the parlor. One day when she was arranging them, she said, -regretfully, "They will soon be gone. I wish it could always be summer." - -"You would get tired of it," said Mr. Harry, who had come up softly -behind her. "There's only one place where we could stand perpetual -summer, and that's in heaven." - -"Do you suppose that it will always be summer there?" said Miss Laura, -turning around, and looking at him. - -"I don't know. I imagine it will be, but don't think anybody knows much -about it. We've got to wait." - -Miss Laura's eyes fell on me. "Harry," she said, "do you think that dumb -animals will go to heaven?" - -"I shall have to say again, I don't know," he replied. "Some people -hold that they do. In a Michigan paper, the other day, I came across one -writer's opinion on the subject. He says that among the best people -of all ages have been some who believed in the future life of animals. -Homer and the later Greeks, some of the Romans and early Christians held -this view the last believing that God sent angels in the shape of birds -to comfort sufferers for the faith. St. Francis called the birds and -beasts his brothers. Dr. Johnson believed in a future life for animals, -as also did Wordsworth, Shelley, Coleridge, Jeremy Taylor, Agassiz, -Lamartine, and many Christian scholars. It seems as if they ought to -have some compensation for their terrible sufferings in this world. Then -to go to heaven, animals would only have to take up the thread of their -lives here. Man is a god to the lower creation. Joe worships you, much -as you worship your Maker. Dumb animals live in and for their masters. -They hang on our words and looks, and are dependent on us in almost -every way. For my own part, and looking at it from an earthly point -of view, I wish with all my heart that we may find our dumb friends in -paradise." - -"And in the Bible," said Miss Laura, "animals are often spoken of. The -dove and the raven, the wolf and the lamb, and the leopard, and the -cattle that God says are his, and the little sparrow that can't fall to -the ground without our Father's knowing it." - -"Still, there's nothing definite about their immortality," said Mr. -Harry. "However, we've got nothing to do with that. If it's right for -them to be in heaven, we'll find them there. All we have to do now is to -deal with the present, and the Bible plainly tells us that 'a righteous -man regardeth the life of his beast.'" - -"I think I would be happier in heaven if dear old Joe were there," said -Miss Laura, looking wistfully at me. "He has been such a good dog. Just -think how he has loved and protected me. I think I should be lonely -without him." - -"That reminds me of some poetry, or rather doggerel," said Mr. Harry, -"that I cut out of a newspaper for you yesterday;" and he drew from his -pocket a little slip of paper, and read this: - - "Do doggies gang to heaven, Dad? - Will oor auld Donald gang? - For noo to tak' him, faither wi' us, - Wad be maist awfu' wrang." - -There was a number of other verses, telling how many kind things old -Donald the dog had done for his master's family, and then it closed with -these lines: - - "Withoot are dogs. Eh, faither, man, - 'Twould be an awfu' sin - To leave oor faithfu' doggie there, - He's certain to win in. - - "Oor Donald's no like ither dogs, - He'll no be lockit oot, - If Donald's no let into heaven, - I'll no gang there one foot." - -"My sentiments exactly," said a merry voice behind Miss Laura and Mr. -Harry, and looking up they saw Mr. Maxwell. He was holding out one hand -to them, and in the other kept back a basket of large pears that Mr. -Harry promptly took from him, and offered to Miss Laura "I've been -dependent upon animals for the most part of my comfort in this life," -said Mr. Maxwell, "and I sha'n't be happy without them in heaven. I -don't see how you would get on without Joe, Miss Morris, and I want my -birds, and my snake, and my horse how can I live without them? They're -almost all my life here." - -"If some animals go to heaven and not others, I think that the dog has -the first claim," said Miss Laura. "He's the friend of man the oldest -and best. Have you ever heard the legend about him and Adam?" - -"No," said Mr. Maxwell. - -"Well, when Adam was turned out of paradise, all the animals shunned -him, and he sat bitterly weeping with his head between his hands, when -he felt the soft tongue of some creature gently touching him. He took -his hands from his face, and there was a dog that had separated himself -from all the other animals, and was trying to comfort him. He became the -chosen friend and companion of Adam, afterward of all men." - -"There is another legend," said Mr. Harry, "about our Saviour and a dog. -Have you ever heard it?" - -"We'll tell you that later," said Mr. Maxwell, "when we know what it -is." - -Mr. Harry showed his white teeth in an amused smile, and began "Once -upon a time our Lord was going through a town with his disciples. A -dead dog lay by the wayside, and every one that passed along flung -some offensive epithet at him. Eastern dogs are not like our dogs, and -seemingly there was nothing good about this loathsome creature, but as -our Saviour went by, he said, gently, 'Pearls cannot equal the whiteness -of his teeth.'" - -"What was the name of that old fellow," said Mr. Maxwell, abruptly, "who -had a beautiful swan that came every day for fifteen years, to bury its -head in his bosom and feed from his hand, and would go near no other -human being?" - -"Saint Hugh, of Lincoln. We heard about him at the Band of Mercy the -other day," said Miss Laura. - -"I should think that he would have wanted to have that swan in heaven -with him," said Mr. Maxwell. "What a beautiful creature it must have -been. Speaking about animals going to heaven, I dare say some of them -would object to going, on account of the company that they would meet -there. Think of the dog kicked to death by his master, the horse driven -into his grave, the thousands of cattle starved to death on the plains -will they want to meet their owners in heaven?" - -"According to my reckoning, their owners won't be there," said Mr. -Harry. "I firmly believe that the Lord will punish every man or woman -who ill-treats a dumb creature just as surely as he will punish those -who ill-treat their fellow-creatures. If a man's life has been a long -series of cruelty to dumb animals, do you suppose that he would enjoy -himself in heaven, which will be full of kindness to every one? Not he; -he'd rather be in the other place, and there he'll go, I fully believe." - -"When you've quite disposed of all your fellow-creatures and the dumb -creation, Harry, perhaps you will condescend to go out into the orchard -and see how your father is getting on with picking the apples," said -Mrs. Wood, joining Miss Laura and the two young men, her eyes twinkling -and sparkling with amusement. - -"The apples will keep, mother," said Mr. Harry, putting his arm around -her. "I just came in for a moment to get Laura. Come, Maxwell, we'll all -go." - -"And not another word about animals," Mrs. Wood called after them. -"Laura will go crazy some day, through thinking of their sufferings, if -some one doesn't do something to stop her." - -Miss Laura turned around suddenly. "Dear Aunt Hattie," she said, "you -must not say that. I am a coward, I know, about hearing of animals' -pains, but I must get over it. I want to know how they suffer. I ought -to know, for when I get to be a woman, I am going to do all I can to -help them." - -"And I'll join you," said Mr. Maxwell, stretching out his hand to Miss -Laura, She did not smile, but looking very earnestly at him, she held it -clasped in her own. "You will help me to care for them, will you?" she -said. - -"Yes, I promise," he said, gravely. "I'll give myself to the service of -dumb animals, if you will." - -"And I, too," said Mr. Harry, in his deep voice, laying his hand across -theirs. Mrs. Wood stood looking at their three fresh, eager, young -faces, with tears in her eyes. Just as they all stood silently for an -instant, the old village clergyman came into the room from the hall. He -must have heard what they said, for before they could move he had laid -his hands on their three brown heads. "Bless you, my children," he said, -"God will lift up the light of his countenance upon you, for you have -given yourselves to a noble work. In serving dumb creatures, you are -ennobling the human race." - -Then he sat down in a chair and looked at them. He was a venerable old -man, and had long, white hair, and the Woods thought a great deal of -him. He had come to get Mrs. Wood to make some nourishing dishes for a -sick woman in the village, and while he was talking to her, Miss Laura -and the two young men went out of the house. They hurried across the -veranda and over the lawn, talking and laughing, and enjoying themselves -as only happy young people can and with not a trace of their seriousness -of a few moments before on their faces. - -They were going so fast that they ran right into a flock of geese that -were coming up the lane. They were driven by a little boy called Tommy, -the son of one of Mr. Wood's farm laborers, and they were chattering -and gabbling, and seemed very angry. "What's all this about?" said Mr. -Harry, stopping and looking at the boy. "What's the matter with your -feathered charges, Tommy my lad?" - -"If it's the geese you mean," said the boy half crying and looking very -much put out, "it's all them nasty potatoes. They won't keep away from -them." - -"So the potatoes chase the geese, do they?" said Mr. Maxwell, teasingly. - -"No, no," said the child, pettishly; "Mr. Wood he sets me to watch the -geese, and they runs in among the buckwheat and the potatoes and I tries -to drive them out, and they doesn't want to come, and," shamefacedly, -"I has to switch their feet, and I hates to do it, 'cause I'm a Band of -Mercy boy." - -"Tommy, my son," said Mr. Maxwell, solemnly "you will go right to heaven -when you die, and your geese will go with you." - -"Hush, hush," said Miss Laura, "don't tease him," and putting her arm on -the child's shoulder, she said, "You are a good boy, Tommy, not to want -to hurt the geese. Let me see your switch, dear." - -He showed her a little stick he had in his hand, and she said, "I don't -think you could hurt them much with that, and if they will be naughty -and steal the potatoes, you have to drive them out. Take some of my -pears and eat them, and you will forget your trouble." The child took -the fruit, and Miss Laura and the two young men went on their way, -smiling, and looking over their shoulders at Tommy, who stood in the -lane, devouring his pears and keeping one eye on the geese that had -gathered a little in front of him, and were gabbling noisily and having -a kind of indignation meeting, because they had been driven out of the -potato field. - -Tommy's father and mother lived in a little house down near the road. -Mr. Wood never had his hired men live in his own house. He had two small -houses for them to live in, and they were required to keep them as neat -as Mr. Wood's own house was kept. He said that he didn't see why he -should keep a boarding house, if he was a farmer, nor why his wife -should wear herself out waiting on strong, hearty men, that had just -as soon take care of themselves. He wished to have his own family about -him, and it was better for his men to have some kind of family life for -themselves. If one of his men was unmarried, he boarded with the married -one, but slept in his own house. - -On this October day we found Mr. Wood hard at work under the fruit -trees. He had a good many different kind of apples. Enormous red ones, -and long, yellow ones that they called pippins, and little brown ones, -and smooth-coated sweet ones, and bright red ones, and others, more than -I could mention. Miss Laura often pared one and cut off little bits for -me, for I always wanted to eat whatever I saw her eating. - -Just a few days after this, Miss Laura and I returned to Fairport, and -some of Mr. Wood's apples traveled along with us, for he sent a good -many to the Boston market. Mr. and Mrs. Wood came to the station to -see us off. Mr. Harry could not come, for he had left Riverdale the day -before to go back to his college. Mrs. Wood said that she would be very -lonely without her two young people, and she kissed Miss Laura over and -over again, and made her promise to come back again the next summer. - -I was put in a box in the express car, and Mr. Wood told the agent that -if he knew what was good for him he would speak to me occasionally for -I was a very knowing dog, and if he didn't treat me well, I'd be apt to -write him up in the newspapers. The agent laughed, and quite often on -the way to Fairport, he came to my box and spoke kindly to me. So I did -not get so lonely and frightened as I did on my way to Riverdale. - -How glad the Morrises were to see us coming back. The boys had all -gotten home before us, and such a fuss as they did make over their -sister. They loved her dearly, and never wanted her to be long away from -them. I was rubbed and stroked, and had to run about offering my paw to -every one. Jim and little Billy licked my face, and Bella croaked out, -"Glad to see you, Joe. Had a good time? How's your health?" - -We soon settled down for the winter. Miss Laura began going to school, -and came home every day with a pile of books under her arm. The summer -in the country had done her so much good that her mother often looked at -her fondly, and said the white-faced child she sent away had come home a -nut-brown maid. - - - -CHAPTER XXXIII PERFORMING ANIMALS - -A WEEK or two after we got home, I heard the Morris boys talking about -an Italian who was coming to Fairport with a troupe of trained animals, -and I could see for myself whenever I went to town, great flaming -pictures on the fences, of monkeys sitting at tables, dogs and ponies, -and goats climbing ladders, and rolling balls, and doing various -tricks. I wondered very much whether they would be able to do all those -extraordinary things, but it turned out that they did. - -The Italian's name was Bellini, and one afternoon the whole Morris -family went to see him and his animals, and when they came home, I heard -them talking about it. "I wish you could have been there, Joe," said -Jack, pulling up my paws to rest on his knees. "Now listen, old fellow -and I'll tell you all about it. First of all, there was a perfect jam -in the town hall. I sat up in front, with a lot of fellows, and had -a splendid view. The old Italian came out dressed in his best suit of -clothes black broadcloth, flower in his buttonhole, and so on. He made -a fine bow, and he said he was 'pleased too see ze fine audience, and he -was going to show zem ze fine animals, ze finest animals in ze world.' -Then he shook a little whip that he carried in his hand, and he said -'zat zat whip didn't mean zat he was cruel. He cracked it to show his -animals when to begin, end, or change their tricks.' Some boy yelled, -'Rats! you do whip them sometimes,' and the old man made another bow, -and said, 'Sairteenly, he whipped zem just as ze mammas whip ze naughty -boys, to make zem keep still when zey was noisy or stubborn.' - -"Then everybody laughed at the boy, and the Italian said the performance -would begin by a grand procession of all the animals, if some lady would -kindly step up to the piano and play a march. Nina Smith you know Nina, -Joe, the girl that has black eyes and wears blue ribbons, and lives -around the corner stepped up to the piano, and banged out a fine loud -march. The doors at the side of the platform opened, and out came the -animals, two by two, just like Noah's ark. There was a pony with a -monkey walking beside it and holding on to its mane, another monkey on a -pony's back, two monkeys hand in hand, a dog with a parrot on his back, -a goat harnessed to a little carriage, another goat carrying a birdcage -in its mouth with two canaries inside, different kinds of cats, some -doves and pigeons, half a dozen white rats with red harness, and -dragging a little chariot with a monkey in it, and a common white gander -that came in last of all, and did nothing but follow one of the ponies -about. - -"The Italian spoke of the gander, and said it was a stupid creature, and -could learn no tricks and he only kept it on account of its affection -for the pony. He had got them both on a Vermont farm, when he was -looking for show animals. The pony's master had made a pet of him, and -had taught him to come whenever he whistled for him. Though the pony was -only a scrub of a creature, he had a gentle disposition, and every -other animal on the farm liked him. A gander, in particular, had such an -admiration for him that he followed him wherever he went, and if he lost -him for an instant, he would mount one of the knolls on the farm and -stretch out his neck looking for him. When he caught sight of him, he -gabbled with delight, and running to him, waddled up and down beside -him. Every little while the pony put his nose down, and seemed to be -having a conversation with the goose. If the farmer whistled the pony -and he started to run to him, the gander, knowing he could not keep up, -would seize the pony's tail in his beak, and flapping his wings, would -get along as fast as the pony did. And the pony never kicked him. The -Italian saw that this pony would be a good one to train for the stage, -so he offered the farmer a large price for him, and took him away. - -"Oh, Joe, I forgot to say, that by this time all the animals had been -sent off the stage except the pony and the gander, and they stood -looking at the Italian while he talked. I never saw anything as human -in dumb animals as that pony's face. He looked as if he understood every -word that his master was saying. After this story was over, the Italian -made another bow, and then told the pony to bow. He nodded his head at -the people, and they all laughed. Then the Italian asked him to favor -us with a waltz, and the pony got up on his hind legs and danced. You -should have seen that gander skirmishing around, so as to be near the -pony and yet keep out of the way of his heels. We fellows just roared, -and we would have kept him dancing all the afternoon if the Italian -hadn't begged 'ze young gentlemen not to make ze noise, but let ze pony -do ze rest of his tricks.' Pony number two came on the stage, and it -was too queer for anything to see the things the two of them did. They -helped the Italian on with his coat, they pulled off his rubbers, they -took his coat away and brought him a chair, and dragged a table up to -it. They brought him letters and papers, and rang bells, and rolled -barrels, and swung the Italian in a big swing, and jumped a rope, and -walked up and down steps they just went around that stage as handy with -their teeth as two boys would be with their hands, and they seemed to -understand every word their master said to them. - -"The best trick of all was telling the time and doing questions in -arithmetic. The Italian pulled his watch out of his pocket and showed it -to the first pony, whose name was Diamond, and said, 'What time is it?' -The pony looked at it, then scratched four times with his forefoot on -the platform. The Italian said, 'Zat's good four o'clock. But it's a few -minutes after four how many?' The pony scratched again five times. The -Italian showed his watch to the audience, and said that it was just five -minutes past four. Then he asked the pony how old he was. He scratched -four times. That meant four years. He asked him how many days in a week -there were, how many months in a year; and he gave him some questions in -addition and subtraction, and the pony answered them all correctly. Of -course, the Italian was giving him some sign; but, though we watched -him closely, we couldn't make out what it was. At last, he told the pony -that he had been very good, and had done his lessons well; if it would -rest him, he might be naughty a little while. All of a sudden a wicked -look came into the creature's eyes. He turned around, and kicked up his -heels at his master, he pushed over the table and chairs, and knocked -down a blackboard where he had been rubbing out figures with a sponge -held in his mouth. The Italian pretended to be cross, and said, 'Come, -come; this won't do,' and he called the other pony to him, and told -him to take that troublesome fellow off the stage. The second one nosed -Diamond, and pushed him about, finally bit him by the ear, and led him -squealing off the stage. The gander followed, gabbling as fast as he -could, and there was a regular roar of applause. - -"After that, there were ladders brought in, Joe, and dogs came on; not -thoroughbreds, but curs something like you. The Italian says he can't -teach tricks to pedigree animals as well as to scrubs. Those dogs jumped -the ladders, and climbed them, and went through them, and did all kinds -of things. The man cracked his whip once, and they began; twice, and -they did backward what they had done forward; three times, and they -stopped, and every animal, dogs, goats, ponies, and monkeys, after they -had finished their tricks, ran up to their master, and he gave them -a lump of sugar. They seemed fond of him, and often when they weren't -performing went up to him, and licked his hands or his sleeve. There was -one boss dog, Joe, with a head like yours. Bob, they called him, and he -did all his tricks alone. The Italian went off the stage, and the -dog came on and made his bow, and climbed his ladders, and jumped his -hurdles, and went off again. The audience howled for an encore, and -didn't he come out alone, make another bow, and retire. I saw old Judge -Brown wiping the tears from his eyes, he'd laughed so much. One of the -last tricks was with a goat, and the Italian said it was the best of -all, because the goat is such a hard animal to teach. He had a big ball, -and the goat got on it and rolled it across the stage without getting -off. He looked as nervous as a cat, shaking his old beard, and trying to -keep his four hoofs close enough together to keep him on the ball. - -"We had a funny little play at the end of the performance. A monkey -dressed as a lady in a white satin suit and a bonnet with a white veil, -came on the stage. She was Miss Green and the dog Bob was going to elope -with her. He was all rigged out as Mr. Smith, and had on a light suit -of clothes, and a tall hat on the side of his head, high collar, long -cuffs, and he carried a cane. He was a regular dude. He stepped up to -Miss Green on his hind legs, and helped her on to a pony's back. The -pony galloped off the stage; then a crowd of monkeys, chattering and -wringing their hands, came on. Mr. Smith had run away with their child. -They were all dressed up, too. There were the father and mother, with -gray wigs and black clothes, and the young Greens in bibs and tuckers. -They were a queer-looking crowd. While they were going on in this way, -the pony trotted back on the stage; and they all flew at him and pulled -off their daughter from his back, and laughed and chattered, and boxed -her ears, and took off her white veil and her satin dress, and put on -an old brown thing, and some of them seized the dog, and kicked his hat, -and broke his cane, and stripped his clothes off, and threw them in a -corner, and bound his legs with cords. A goat came on, harnessed to a -little cart and they threw the dog in it, and wheeled him around the -stage a few times. Then they took him out and tied him to a hook in the -wall, and the goat ran off the stage, and the monkeys ran to one side, -and one of them pulled out a little revolver, pointed it at the dog, -fired, and he dropped down as if he was dead. - -"The monkeys stood looking at him, and then there was the most awful -hullabaloo you ever beard. Such a barking and yelping, and half a dozen -dogs rushed on the stage, and didn't they trundle those monkeys about. -They nosed them, and pushed them, and shook them, till they all ran -away, all but Miss Green, who sat shivering in a corner. After a while, -she crept up to the dead dog, pawed him a little, and didn't he jump up -as much alive as any of them? Everybody in the room clapped and shouted, -and then the curtain dropped, and the thing was over. I wish he'd give -another performance. Early in the morning he has to go to Boston." - -Jack pushed my paws from his knees and went outdoors, and I began to -think that I would very much like to see those performing animals. It -was not yet tea time, and I would have plenty of time to take a run -down to the hotel where they were staying, so I set out. It was a lovely -autumn evening. The sun was going down in a haze, and it was quite warm. -Earlier in the day I had heard Mr. Morris say that this was our Indian -summer, and that we should soon have cold weather. - -Fairport was a pretty little town, and from the principal street -one could look out upon the blue water of the bay and see the island -opposite, which was quite deserted now, for all the summer visitors had -gone home, and the Island House was shut up. - -I was running down one of the steep side streets that led to the water -when I met a heavily-laden cart coming up. It must have been coming -from one of the vessels, for it was full of strange-looking boxes -and packages. A fine-looking nervous horse was drawing it, and he was -straining every nerve to get it up the steep hill. His driver was a -burly, hard-faced man, and instead of letting his horse stop a minute -to rest he kept urging him forward. The poor horse kept looking at his -master, his eyes almost starting from his head in terror. He knew that -the whip was about to descend on his quivering body. And so it did, and -there was no one by to interfere. No one but a woman in a ragged shawl -who would have no influence with the driver. There was a very good -humane society in Fairport, and none of the teamsters dared ill-use -their horses if any of the members were near. This was a quiet -out-of-the-way street, with only poor houses on it, and the man probably -knew that none of the members of the society would be likely to be -living in them. He whipped his horse, and whipped him, till every lash -made my heart ache, and if I had dared I would have bitten him severely. -Suddenly, there was a dull thud in the street. The horse had fallen -down. The driver ran to his head, but he was quite dead. "Thank God!" -said the poorly-dressed woman, bitterly; "one more out of this world of -misery." Then she turned and went down the street. I was glad for the -horse. He would never be frightened or miserable again, and I went -slowly on, thinking that death is the best thing that can happen to -tortured animals. - -The Fairport hotel was built right in the centre of the town, and the -shops and houses crowded quite close about it. It was a high, brick -building, and it was called the Fairport House. As I was running along -the sidewalk, I heard some one speak to me, and looking up I saw Charlie -Montague. I had heard the Morrises say that his parents were staying at -the hotel for a few weeks, while their house was being repaired. He -had his Irish setter, Brisk, with him, and a handsome dog he was, as he -stood waving his silky tail in the sunlight. Charlie patted me, and then -he and his dog went into the hotel. I turned into the stable yard. It -was a small, choked-up place, and as I picked my way under the cabs and -wagons standing in the yard, I wondered why the hotel people didn't buy -some of the old houses near by, and tear them down, and make a stable -yard worthy of such a nice hotel. The hotel horses were just getting -rubbed down after their day's work, and others were coming in. The men -were talking and laughing, and there was no sign of strange animals, so -I went around to the back of the yard. Here they were, in an empty cow -stable, under a hay loft. There were two little ponies tied up in a -stall, two goats beyond them, and dogs and monkeys in strong traveling -cages. I stood in the doorway and stared at them. I was sorry for the -dogs to be shut up on such a lovely evening, but I suppose their master -was afraid of their getting lost, or being stolen, if he let them loose. - -They all seemed very friendly. The ponies turned around and looked at me -with their gentle eyes, and then went on munching their hay. I wondered -very much where the gander was, and went a little farther into the -stable. Something white raised itself up out of the brownest pony's -crib, and there was the gander close up beside the open mouth of his -friend. The monkeys make a jabbering noise, and held on to the bars of -their cage with their little black hands, while they looked out at me. -The dogs sniffed the air, and wagged their tails, and tried to put their -muzzles through the bars of their cage. I liked the dogs best, and I -wanted to see the one they called Bob, so I went up quite close to them. -There were two little white dogs, something like Billy, two mongrel -spaniels, an Irish terrier, and a brown dog asleep in the corner, that I -knew must be Bob. He did look a little like me, but he was not quite so -ugly for he had his ears and his tail. - -While I was peering through the bars at him, a man came in the stable. -He noticed me the first thing, but instead of driving me out, he spoke -kindly to me, in a language that I did not understand. So I knew that -he was the Italian. How glad the animals were to see him! The gander -fluttered out of his nest, the ponies pulled at their halters, the -dogs whined and tried to reach his hands to lick them, and the monkeys -chattered with delight. He laughed and talked back to them in queer, -soft-sounding words. Then he took out of a bag on his arm, bones for -the dogs, nuts and cakes for the monkeys, nice, juicy carrots for the -ponies, some green stuff for the goats, and corn for the gander. - -It was a pretty sight to see the old man feeding his pets, and it made -me feel quite hungry, so I trotted home. I had a run down town again -that evening with Mr. Morris, who went to get something from a shop for -his wife. He never let his boys go to town after tea, so if there were -errands to be done, he or Mrs. Morris went. The town was bright and -lively that evening, and a great many people were walking about and -looking into the shop windows. - -When we came home, I went into the kennel with Jim, and there I slept -till the middle of the night. Then I started up and ran outside. There -was a distant bell ringing, which we often heard in Fairport, and which -always meant fire. - - - -CHAPTER XXXIV A FIRE IN FAIRPORT - -I HAD several times run to a fire with the boys, and knew that there was -always great noise and excitement. There was a light in the house, so I -knew that somebody was getting up. I don't think indeed I know, for they -were good boys that they ever wanted anybody to lose property, but they -did enjoy seeing a blaze, and one of their greatest delights, when there -hadn't been a fire for some time, was to build a bonfire in the garden. - -Jim and I ran around to the front of the house and waited. In a few -minutes, some one came rattling at the front door, and I was sure it was -Jack. But it was Mr. Morris, and without a word to us, he set off almost -running toward the town. We followed after him, and as we hurried along -other men ran out from the houses along the streets, and either joined -him; or dashed ahead. They seemed to have dressed in a hurry, and were -thrusting their arms in their coats, and buttoning themselves up as they -went. Some of them had hats and some of them had none, and they all had -their faces toward the great red light that got brighter and brighter -ahead of us. "Where's the fire?" they shouted to each other. "Don't know -afraid it' s the hotel, or the town hall. It's such a blaze. Hope not. -How's the water supply now? Bad time for a fire." - -It was the hotel. We saw that as soon as we got on to the main street. -There were people all about, and a great noise and confusion, and -smoke and blackness; and up above, bright tongues of flame were leaping -against the sky. Jim and I kept close to Mr. Morris's heels, as he -pushed his way among the crowd. When we got nearer the burning -building, we saw men carrying ladders and axes, and others were shouting -directions, and rushing out of the hotel, carrying boxes and bundles and -furniture in their arms. From the windows above came a steady stream of -articles, thrown among the crowd. A mirror struck Mr. Morris on the arm, -and a whole package of clothes fell on his head and almost smothered -him; but he brushed them aside and scarcely noticed them. There was -something the matter with Mr. Morris I knew by the worried sound of his -voice when he spoke to any one. I could not see his face, though it was -as light as day about us, for we had got jammed in the crowd, and if I -had not kept between his feet, I should have been trodden to death. Jim, -being larger than I was, had got separated from us. - -Presently Mr. Morris raised his voice above the uproar, and called, -"Is every one out of the hotel?" A voice shouted back, "I'm going up to -see." - -"It's Jim Watson, the fireman," cried some one near. "He's risking his -life to go into that pit of flame. Don't go, Watson." I don't think that -the brave fireman paid any attention to this warning, for an instant -later the same voice said "He's planting his ladder against the third -story. He's bound to go. He'll not get any farther than the second, -anyway." - -"Where are the Montagues?" shouted Mr. Morris. "Has any one seen the -Montagues?" - -"Mr. Morris! Mr. Morris!" said a frightened voice, and young Charlie -Montague pressed through the people to us. "Where's papa?" - -"I don't know. Where did you leave him?" said Mr. Morris, taking his -hand and drawing him closer to him. "I was sleeping in his room," said -the boy, "and a man knocked at the door and said, 'Hotel on fire. Five -minutes to dress and get out,' and papa told me to put on my clothes and -go downstairs, and he ran up to mamma." - -"Where was she?" asked Mr. Morris, quickly. - -"On the fourth flat. She and her maid Blanche were up there. You know, -mamma hasn't been well and couldn't sleep, and our room was so noisy -that she moved upstairs where it was quiet." Mr. Morris gave a kind -of groan. "Oh I'm so hot, and there's such a dreadful noise," said the -little boy, bursting into tears, "and I want mamma." Mr. Morris soothed -him as best he could, and drew him a little to the edge of the crowd. - -While he was doing this, there was a piercing cry. I could not see -the person making it, but I knew it was the Italian's voice. He was -screaming, in broken English that the fire was spreading to the stables, -and his animals would be burned. Would no one help him to get his -animals out? There was a great deal of confused language. Some voices -shouted, "Look after the people first. Let the animals go." And others -said, "For shame. Get the horses out." But no one seemed to do anything, -for the Italian went on crying for help. I heard a number of people who -were standing near us say that it had just been found out that several -persons who had been sleeping in the top of the hotel had not got out. -They said that at one of the top windows a poor housemaid was shrieking -for help. Here in the street we could see no one at the upper windows, -for smoke was pouring from them. - -The air was very hot and heavy and I didn't wonder that Charlie Montague -felt ill. He would have fallen on the ground if Mr. Morris hadn't taken -him in his arms, and carried him out of the crowd. He put him down on -the brick sidewalk, and unfastened his little shirt, and left me to -watch him, while he held his hands under a leak in a hose that was -fastened to a hydrant near us. He got enough water to dash on Charlie's -face and breast, and then seeing that the boy was reviving, he sat down -on the curbstone and took him on his knee. Charlie lay in his arms and -moaned. He was a delicate boy, and he could not stand rough usage as the -Morris boys could. - -Mr. Morris was terribly uneasy. His face was deathly white, and he -shuddered whenever there was a cry from the burning building. "Poor -souls God help them. Oh, this is awful," he said; and then he turned his -eyes from the great sheets of flame and strained the little boy to his -breast. At last there were wild shrieks that I knew came from no human -throats. The fire must have reached the horses. Mr. Morris sprang up, -then sank back again. He wanted to go, yet he could be of no use. There -were hundreds of men standing about, but the fire had spread so rapidly, -and they had so little water to put on it that there was very little -they could do. I wondered whether I could do anything for the poor -animals. I was not afraid of fire, as most dogs, for one of the tricks -that the Morris boys had taught me was to put out a fire with my paws. -They would throw a piece of lighted paper on the floor, and I would -crush it with my forepaws; and if the blaze was too large for that, -I would drag a bit of old carpet over it and jump on it. I left Mr. -Morris, and ran around the corner of the street to the back of the -hotel. It was not burned as much here as in the front, and in the houses -all around, people were out on their roofs with wet blankets, and some -were standing at the window watching the fire, or packing up their -belongings ready to move if it should spread to them. There was a narrow -lane running up a short distance toward the hotel, and I started to go -up this, when in front of me I heard such a wailing, piercing noise, -that it made me shudder and stand still. The Italian's animals were -going to be burned up and they were calling to their master to come and -get them out. Their voices sounded like the voices of children in mortal -pain. I could not stand it. I was seized with such an awful horror of -the fire that I turned and ran, feeling so thankful that I was not in -it. As I got into the street I stumbled over something. It was a large -bird a parrot, and at first I thought it was Bella. Then I remembered -hearing Jack say that the Italian had a parrot. It was not dead, but -seemed stupid with the smoke. I seized it in my mouth, and ran and laid -it at Mr. Morris's feet. He wrapped it in his handkerchief, and laid it -beside him. - -I sat, and trembled, and did not leave him again. I shall never forget -that dreadful night. It seemed as if we were there for hours, but in -reality it was only a short time. The hotel soon got to be all red -flames, and there was very little smoke. The inside of the budding had -burned away, and nothing more could be gotten out. The firemen and all -the people drew back, and there was no noise. Everybody stood gazing -silently at the flames. A man stepped quietly up to Mr. Morris, and -looking at him, I saw that it was Mr. Montague. He was usually a -well-dressed man, with a kind face, and a head of thick, grayish brown -hair. Now his face was black and grimy, his hair was burnt from the -front of his head, and his clothes were half torn from his back. Mr. -Morris sprang up when he saw him, and said "Where is your wife?" - -The gentleman did not say a word, but pointed to the burning building. -"Impossible!" cried Mr. Morris. "Is there no mistake? Your beautiful -young wife, Montague. Can it be so?" Mr. Morris was trembling from head -to foot. - -"It is true," said Mr. Montague, quietly. "Give me the boy." Charlie had -fainted again and his father took him in his arms, and turned away. - -"Montague!" cried Mr. Morris, "my heart is sore for you. Can I do -nothing?" - -"No, thank you," said the gentleman, without turning around; but there -was more anguish in his voice than in Mr. Morris's, and though I am only -a dog, I knew that his heart was breaking. - - - -CHAPTER XXXV BILLY AND THE ITALIAN - -MR. MORRIS stayed no longer. He followed Mr. Montague along the sidewalk -a little way, and then exchanged a few hurried words with some men who -were standing near, and hastened home through streets that seemed dark -and dull after the splendor of the fire. Though it was still the middle -of the night, Mrs. Morris was up and dressed and waiting for him. She -opened the hall door with one hand and held a candle in the other. I -felt frightened and miserable, and didn't want to leave Mr. Morris, so I -crept in after him. - -"Don't make a noise," said Mrs. Morris. "Laura and the boys are -sleeping, and I thought it better not to wake them. It has been a -terrible fire, hasn't it? Was it the hotel?" Mr. Morris threw himself -into a chair and covered his face with his hands. - -"Speak to me, William!" said Mrs. Morris, in a startled tone. "You are -not hurt, are you?" and she put her candle on the table and came and sat -down beside him. - -He dropped his hands from his face, and tears were running down his -cheeks. "Ten lives lost," he said; "among them Mrs. Montague." - -Mrs. Morris looked horrified, and gave a little cry, "William, it can't -be so!" - -It seemed as if Mr. Morris could not sit still. He got up and walked to -and fro on the floor. "It was an awful scene, Margaret. I never wish to -look upon the like again. Do you remember how I protested against the -building of that deathtrap. Look at the wide, open streets around it, -and yet they persisted in running it up to the sky. God will require -an account of those deaths at the hands of the men who put up that -building. It is terrible this disregard of human lives. To think of that -delicate woman and her death agony." He threw himself in a chair and -buried his face in his hands. - -"Where was she? How did it happen? Was her husband saved, and Charlie?" -said Mrs. Morris, in a broken voice. - -"Yes; Charlie and Mr. Montague are safe. Charlie will recover from it. -Montague's life is done. You know his love for his wife. Oh, Margaret! -when will men cease to be fools? What does the Lord think of them when -they say, 'Am I my brother's keeper?' And the other poor creatures -burned to death their lives are as precious in his sight as Mrs. -Montague's." - -Mr. Morris looked so weak and ill that Mrs. Morris, like a sensible -woman, questioned him no further, but made a fire and got him some hot -tea. Then she made him lie down on the sofa, and she sat by him till -day-break, when she persuaded him to go to bed. I followed her about, -and kept touching her dress with my nose. It seemed so good to me to -have this pleasant home after all the misery I had seen that night. -Once she stopped and took my head between her hands, "Dear old Joe," she -said, tearfully, "this a suffering world. It's well there's a better one -beyond it." - -In the morning the boys went down town before breakfast and learned all -about the fire. It started in the top story of the hotel, in the room -of some fast young men, who were sitting up late playing cards. They -had smuggled wine into their room and had been drinking till they were -stupid. One of them upset the lamp, and when the flames began to spread -so that they could not extinguish them, instead of rousing some one near -them, they rushed downstairs to get some one there to come up and help -them put out the fire. When they returned with some of the hotel people, -they found that the flames had spread from their room, which was in an -"L" at the back of the house, to the front part, where Mrs. Montague's -room was, and where the housemaids belonging to the hotel slept. By this -time Mr. Montague had gotten upstairs, but he found the passageway to -his wife's room so full of flames and smoke, that, though he tried again -and again to force his way through, he could not. He disappeared for a -time, then he came to Mr. Morris and got his boy, and took him to some -rooms over his bank, and shut himself up with him. For some days he -would let no one in; then he came out with the look of an old man on his -face, and his hair as white as snow, and went out to his beautiful house -in the outskirts of the town. - -Nearly all the horses belonging to the hotel were burned. A few were -gotten out by having blankets put over their heads, but the most of them -were so terrified that they would not stir. - -The Morris boys said that they found the old Italian sitting on an empty -box, looking at the smoking ruins of the hotel. His head was hanging on -his breast, and his eyes were full of tears. His ponies were burned -up, he said, and the gander, and the monkeys, and the goat, and his -wonderful performing dogs. He had only his birds left, and he was a -ruined man. He had toiled all his life to get this troupe of trained -animals together, and now they were swept from him. It was cruel and -wicked, and he wished he could die. The canaries, and pigeons, and -doves, the hotel people had allowed him to take to his room, and they -were safe. The parrot was lost an educated parrot that could answer -forty questions, and, among other things, could take a watch and tell -the time of day. - -Jack Morris told him that they had it safe at home, and that it was very -much alive, quarrelling furiously with his parrot Bella. The old man's -face brightened at this, and then Jack and Carl, finding that he had had -no breakfast, went off to a restaurant near by, and got him some steak -and coffee. The Italian was very grateful, and as he ate, Jack said -the tears ran into his coffee cap. He told them how much he loved his -animals, and how it "made ze heart bitter to hear zem crying him to -deliver zem from ze raging fire." - -The boys came home, and got their breakfast and went to school. Miss -Laura did not go out She sat all day with a very quiet, pained face -and could neither read nor sew, and Mr. and Mrs. Morris were just as -unsettled. They talked about the fire in low tones, and I could see that -they felt more sad about Mrs. Montague's death than if she had died in -an ordinary way. Her dear little canary Barry, died with her. She would -never be separated from him, and his cage had been taken up to the top -of the hotel with her. He probably died an easier death than his poor -mistress. Charley's dog escaped, but was so frightened that he ran out -to their house, outside the town. - -At tea time, Mr. Morris went down town to see that the Italian got a -comfortable place for the night. When he came back, he said that he had -found out that the Italian was by no means so old a man as he looked and -that he had talked to him about raising a sum of money for him among the -Fairport people, till he had become quite cheerful, and said that if Mr. -Morris would do that, he would try to gather another troupe of animals -together and train them. - -"Now, what can we do for the Italian?" asked Mrs. Morris. "We can't -give him much money, but we might let him have one or two of our pets. -There's Billy, he's a bright, little dog, and not two years old yet. He -could teach him anything." - -There was a blank silence among the Morris children. Billy was such a -gentle, lovable, little dog, that he was a favorite with every one in -the house. "I suppose we ought to do it," said Miss Laura, at last; "but -how can we give him up?" - -There was a good deal of discussion, but the end of it was that Billy -was given to the Italian. He came up to get him, and was very grateful, -and made a great many bows, holding his hat in his hand. Billy took to -him at once, and the Italian spoke so kindly to him, that we knew he -would have a good master. Mr. Morris got quite a large sum of money for -him, and when he handed it to him, the poor man was so pleased that -he kissed his hand, and promised to send frequent word as to Billy's -progress and welfare. - - - -CHAPTER XXXVI DANDY THE TRAMP - -ABOUT a week after Billy left us, the Morris family, much to its -surprise, became the owner of a new dog. - -He walked into the house one cold, wintry afternoon and lay calmly -down by the fire. He was a brindled bull-terrier, and he had on a -silver-plated collar with "Dandy" engraved on it. He lay all the evening -by the fire, and when any of the family spoke to him, he wagged his -tail, and looked pleased. I growled a little at him at first, but he -never cared a bit, and just dozed off to sleep, so I soon stopped. - -He was such a well-bred dog, that the Morrises were afraid that some one -had lost him. They made some inquiries the next day, and found that he -belonged to a New York gentleman who had come to Fairport in the summer -in a yacht. This dog did not like the yacht. He came ashore in a boat -whenever he got a chance, and if he could not come in a boat, he would -swim. He was a tramp, his master said, and he wouldn't stay long in any -place. The Morrises were so amused with his impudence, that they did not -send him away, but said every day, "Surely he will be gone to-morrow." - -However, Mr. Dandy had gotten into comfortable quarters, and he had -no intention of changing them, for a while at least. Then he was very -handsome, and had such a pleasant way with him, that the family could -not help liking him. I never cared for him. He fawned on the Morrises, -and pretended he loved them, and afterward turned around and laughed and -sneered at them in a way that made me very angry. I used to lecture him -sometimes, and growl about him to Jim, but Jim always said, "Let him -alone. You can't do him any good. He was born bad. His mother wasn't -good. He tells me that she had a bad name among all the dogs in her -neighborhood. She was a thief and a runaway." Though he provoked me so -often, yet I could not help laughing at some of his stories, they were -so funny. - -We were lying out in the sun, on the platform at the back of the house, -one day, and he had been more than usually provoking, so I got up to -leave him. He put himself in my way, however, and said, coaxingly, -"Don't be cross, old fellow. I'll tell you some stories to amuse you, -old boy. What shall they be about?" - -"I think the story of your life would be about as interesting as -anything you could make up," I said, dryly. - -"All right, fact or fiction, whichever you like. Here's a fact, -plain and unvarnished. Born and bred in New York. Swell stable. Swell -coachman. Swell master. Jewelled fingers of ladies poking at me, first -thing I remember. First painful experience being sent to vet. to have -ears cut." - -"What's a vet.?" I said. - -"A veterinary animal doctor. Vet. didn't cut ears enough. Master sent -me back. Cut ears again. Summer time, and flies bad. Ears got sore and -festered, flies very attentive. Coachman set little boy to brush flies -off, but he'd run out in yard and leave me. Flies awful. Thought they'd -eat me up, or else I'd shake out brains trying to get rid of them. -Mother should have stayed home and licked my ears, but was cruising -about neighborhood. Finally coachman put me in dark place; powdered -ears, and they got well." - -"Why didn't they cut your tail, too?" I said, looking at his long, slim -tail, which was like a sewer rat's. - -"'Twasn't the fashion, Mr. Wayback; a bull-terrier's ears are clipped to -keep them from getting torn while fighting." - -"You're not a fighting dog," I said. - -"Not I. Too much trouble. I believe in taking things easy." - -"I should think you did," I said, scornfully. "You never put yourself -out for any one, I notice; but, speaking of cropping ears, what do you -think of it?" - -"Well," he said, with a sly glance at my head, "it isn't a pleasant -operation; but one might well be out of the world as out of the fashion. -I don't care, now my ears are done." - -"But," I said, "think of the poor dogs that will come after you." - -"What difference does that make to me?" he said. "I'll be dead and out -of the way. Men can cut off their ears, and tails, and legs, too, if -they want to." - -"Dandy," I said, angrily, "you're the most selfish dog that I ever saw." - -"Don't excite yourself," he said, coolly. "Let me get on with my story. -When I was a few months old, I began to find the stable yard narrow and -wondered what there was outside of it. I discovered a hole in the garden -wall, and used to sneak out nights. Oh, what fun it was. I got to know a -lot of street dogs, and we had gay times, barking under people's windows -and making them mad, and getting into back yards and chasing cats. We -used to kill a cat nearly every night. Policeman would chase us, and we -would run and run till the water just ran off our tongues, and we hadn't -a bit of breath left. Then I'd go home and sleep all day, and go out -again the next night. When I was about a year old, I began to stay out -days as well as nights. They couldn't keep me home. Then I ran away for -three months. I got with an old lady on Fifth Avenue, who was very fond -of dogs. She had four white poodles, and her servants used to wash them, -and tie up their hair with blue ribbons, and she used to take them -for drives in her phaeton in the park, and they wore gold and silver -collars. The biggest poodle wore a ruby in his collar worth five hundred -dollars. I went driving, too, and sometimes we met my master. He often -smiled, and shook his head at me. I heard him tell the coachman one day -that I was a little blackguard, and he was to let me come and go as I -liked." - -"If they had whipped you soundly," I said, "it might have made a good -dog of you." - -"I'm good enough now," said Dandy, airily. "The young ladies who drove -with my master used to say that it was priggish and tiresome to be too -good. To go on with my story: I stayed with Mrs. Judge Tibbett till I -got sick of her fussy ways She made a simpleton of herself over those -poodles. Each one had a high chair at the table, and a plate, and they -always sat in these chairs and had meals with her, and the servants all -called them Master Bijou, and Master Tot, and Miss Tiny, and Miss Fluff. -One day they tried to make me sit in a chair, and I got cross and bit -Mrs. Tibbett, and she beat me cruelly, and her servants stoned me away -from the house." - -"Speaking about fools, Dandy," I said, "if it is polite to call a lady -one, I should say that that lady was one. Dogs shouldn't be put out of -their place. Why didn't she have some poor children at her table, and in -her carriage, and let the dogs run behind?" - -"Easy to see you don't know New York," said Dandy, with a laugh. "Poor -children don't live with rich, old ladies. Mrs. Tibbett hated children, -anyway. Then dogs like poodles would get lost in the mud, or killed in -the crowd if they ran behind a carriage. Only knowing dogs like me can -make their way about." I rather doubted this speech; but I said nothing, -and he went on patronizingly: "However, Joe, thou hast reason, as the -French say. Mrs. Judge Tibbett didn't give her dogs exercise enough. -Their claws were as long as Chinamen's nails, and the hair grew over -their pads, and they had red eyes and were always sick, and she had to -dose them with medicine, and call them her poor, little, 'weeny-teeny -sicky-wicky doggies.' Bah! I got disgusted with her. When I left her, I -ran away to her niece's, Miss Ball's. She was a sensible young lady, and -she used to scold her aunt for the way in which she brought up her dogs. -She was almost too sensible, for her pug and I were rubbed and scrubbed -within an inch of our lives, and had to go for such long walks that I -got thoroughly sick of them. A woman, whom the servants called Trotsey, -came every morning, and took the pug and me by our chains, and sometimes -another dog or two, and took us for long tramps in quiet streets. That -was Trotsey's business, to walk dogs, and Miss Ball got a great many -fashionable young ladies who could not exercise their dogs, to let -Trotsey have them, and they said that it made a great difference in the -health and appearance of their pets. Trotsey got fifteen cents an hour -for a dog. Goodness, what appetites those walks gave us, and didn't we -make the dog biscuits disappear? But it was a slow life at Miss Ball's. -We only saw her for a little while every day. She slept till noon. After -lunch she played with us for a little while in the greenhouse, then she -was off driving or visiting, and in the evening she always had company, -or went to a dance, or to the theatre. I soon made up my mind that I'd -run away. I jumped out of a window one fine morning, and ran home. I -stayed there for a long time. My mother had been run over by a cart and -killed, and I wasn't sorry. My master never bothered his head about me, -and I could do as I liked. One day when I was having a walk, and meeting -a lot of dogs that I knew, a little boy came behind me, and before I -could tell what he was doing, he had snatched me up, and was running off -with me. I couldn't bite him, for he had stuffed some of his rags in my -mouth. He took me to a tenement house, in a part of the city that I -had never been in before. He belonged to a very poor family. My faith, -weren't they badly off six children, and a mother, and father, all -living in two tiny rooms. Scarcely a bit of meat did I smell while I was -there. I hated their bread and molasses, and the place smelled so badly -that I thought I should choke. - -"They kept me shut up in their dirty rooms for several days; and the -brat of a boy that caught me slept with his arm around me at night. The -weather was hot and sometimes we couldn't sleep, and they had to go up -on the roof. After a while, they chained me up in a filthy yard at the -back of the house, and there I thought I should go mad. I would have -liked to bite them all to death, if I had dared. It's awful to be -chained, especially for a dog like me that loves his freedom. The flies -worried me, and the noises distracted me, and my flesh would fairly -creep from getting no exercise. I was there nearly a month, while they -were waiting for a reward to be offered. But none came; and one day, the -boy's father, who was a street peddler, took me by my chain and led me -about the streets till he sold me. A gentleman got me for his little -boy, but I didn't like the look of him, so I sprang up and bit his hand, -and he dropped the chain, and I dodged boys and policemen and finally -got home more dead than alive, and looking like a skeleton. I had a good -time for several weeks, and then I began to get restless and was off -again. But I'm getting tired; I want to go to sleep." - -"You're not very polite," I said, "to offer to tell a story, and then go -to sleep before you finish it." - -"Look out for number one, my boy," said Dandy, with a yawn; "for if you -don't, no one else will," and he shut his eyes and was fast asleep in a -few minutes. - -I sat and looked at him. What a handsome, good-natured, worthless dog he -was. A few days later, he told me the rest of his history. After a great -many wanderings, he happened home one day just as his master's yacht was -going to sail, and they chained him up till they went on board, so that -he could be an amusement on the passage to Fairport. - -It was in November that Dandy came to us, and he stayed all winter. He -made fun of the Morrises all the time, and said they had a dull, poky, -old house, and he only stayed because Miss Laura was nursing him. He had -a little sore on his back that she soon found out was mange. Her father -said it was a bad disease for dogs to have, and Dandy had better be -shot; but she begged so hard for his life, and said she would cure him -in a few weeks that she was allowed to keep him. Dandy wasn't capable of -getting really angry, but he was as disturbed about having this disease -as he could be about anything. He said that he had got it from a little, -mangy dog, that he had played with a few weeks before. He was only with -the dog a little while, and didn't think he would take it, but it seemed -he knew what an easy thing it was to get. - -Until he got well he was separated from us. Miss Laura kept him up in -the loft with the rabbits, where we could not go; and the boys ran him -around the garden for exercise. She tried all kinds of cures for him, -and I heard her say that although it was a skin disease, his blood must -be purified. She gave him some of the pills that she made out of sulphur -and butter for Jim, and Billy, and me, to keep our coats silky and -smooth. When they didn't cure him, she gave him a few drops of arsenic -every day, and washed the sore, and, indeed his whole body, with tobacco -water or carbolic soap. It was the tobacco water that cured him. - -Miss Laura always put on gloves when she went near him, and used a brush -to wash him, for if a person takes mange from a dog, they may lose their -hair and their eyelashes. But if they are careful, no harm comes from -nursing a mangy dog, and I have never known of any one taking the -disease. - -After a time, Dandy's sore healed, and he was set free. He was right -glad, he said, for he had got heartily sick of the rabbits. He used to -bark at them and make them angry, and they would run around the loft, -stamping their hind feet at him, in the funny way that rabbits do. I -think they disliked him as much as he disliked them. Jim and I did not -get the mange. Dandy was not a strong dog, and I think his irregular way -of living made him take diseases readily. He would stuff himself when he -was hungry, and he always wanted rich food. If he couldn't get what he -wanted at the Morrises', he went out and stole, or visited the dumps at -the back of the town. - -When he did get ill, he was more stupid about doctoring himself than any -dog that I have ever seen. He never seemed to know when to eat grass or -herbs, or a little earth, that would have kept him in good condition. A -dog should never be without grass. When Dandy got ill he just suffered -till he got well again, and never tried to cure himself of his small -troubles. Some dogs even know enough to amputate their limbs. Jim told -me a very interesting story of a dog the Morrises once had, called Gyp, -whose leg became paralyzed by a kick from a horse. He knew the leg was -dead, and gnawed it off nearly to the shoulder, and though he was very -sick for a time, yet in the end he got well. - -To return to Dandy. I knew he was only waiting for the spring to leave -us, and I was not sorry. The first fine day he was off, and during the -rest of the spring and summer we occasionally met him running about the -town with a set of fast dogs. One day I stopped and asked him how he -concealed himself in such a quiet place as Fairport, and he said he was -dying to get back to New York, and was hoping that his master's yacht -would come and take him away. - -Poor Dandy never left Fairport. After all, he was not such a bad dog. -There was nothing really vicious about him, and I hate to speak of his -end. His master's yacht did not come, and soon the summer was over, and -the winter was coming, and no one wanted Dandy, for he had such a bad -name. He got hungry and cold, and one day sprang upon a little girl, to -take away a piece of bread and butter that she was eating. He did not -see the large house-dog on the door sill, and before he could get away, -the dog had seized him, and bitten and shaken him till he was nearly -dead. When the dog threw him aside, he crawled to the Morrises, and Miss -Laura bandaged his wounds, and made him a bed in the stable. - -One Sunday morning she washed and fed him very tenderly, for she knew -he could not live much longer. He was so weak that he could scarcely eat -the food that she put in his mouth, so she let him lick some milk from -her finger. As she was going to church, I could not go with her, but I -ran down the lane and watched her out of sight. When I came back, Dandy -was gone. I looked till I found him. He had crawled into the darkest -corner of the stable to die, and though he was suffering very much, he -never uttered a sound. I sat by him and thought of his master in New -York. If he had brought Dandy up properly he might not now be here in -his silent death agony. A young pup should be trained just as a child -is, and punished when he goes wrong. Dandy began badly, and not being -checked in his evil ways, had come so this. Poor Dandy! Poor, handsome -dog of a rich master! He opened his dull eyes, gave me one last glance, -then, with a convulsive shudder, his torn limbs were still. He would -never suffer any more. - -When Miss Laura came home, she cried bitterly to know that he was dead. -The boys took him away from her, and made him a grave in the corner of -the garden. - - - -CHAPTER XXXVII THE END OF MY STORY - -I HAVE come now to the last chapter of my story. I thought when I began -to write, that I would put down the events of each year of my life, but -I fear that would make my story too long, and neither Miss Laura nor any -boys and girls would care to read it. So I will stop just here, though -I would gladly go on, for I have enjoyed so much talking over old times, -that I am very sorry to leave off. - -Every year that I have been at the Morrises', something pleasant has -happened to me, but I cannot put all these things down, nor can I tell -how Miss Laura and the boys grew and changed, year by year, till now -they are quite grown up. I will just bring my tale down to the present -time, and then I will stop talking, and go lie down in my basket, for I -am an old dog now, and get tired very easily. - -I was a year old when I went to the Morrises, and I have been with them -for twelve years. I am not living in the same house with Mr. and Mrs. -Morris now, but I am with my dear Miss Laura, who is Miss Laura no -longer, but Mrs. Gray. She married Mr. Harry four years ago, and lives -with him and Mr. and Mrs. Wood, on Dingley Farm. Mr. and Mrs. Morris -live in a cottage near by. Mr. Morris is not very strong, and can preach -no longer. The boys are all scattered. Jack married pretty Miss Bessie -Drury, and lives on a large farm near here. Miss Bessie says that -she hates to be a farmer's wife, but she always looks very happy and -contented, so I think that she must be mistaken. Carl is a merchant in -New York, Ned is a clerk in a bank, and Willie is studying at a place -called Harvard. He says that after he finishes his studies, he is going -to live with his father and mother. - -The Morrises' old friends often come to see them. Mrs. Drury comes every -summer on her way to Newport, and Mr. Montague and Charlie come every -other summer. Charlie always brings with him his old dog Brisk, who is -getting feeble, like myself. We lie on the veranda in the sunshine, and -listen to the Morrises talking about old days, and sometimes it makes us -feel quite young again. In addition to Brisk we have a Scotch collie. -He is very handsome, and is a constant attendant of Miss Laura's. We are -great friends, he and I, but he can get about much better than I can. -One day a friend of Miss Laura's came with a little boy and girl, and -"Collie" sat between the two children, and their father took their -picture with a "kodak." I like him so much that I told him I would get -them to put his picture in my book. - -When the Morris boys are all here in the summer we have gay times. All -through the winter we look forward to their coming, for they make the -old farmhouse so lively. Mr. Maxwell never misses a summer in coming to -Riverdale. He has such a following of dumb animals now, that he says he -can't move them any farther away from Boston than this, and he doesn't -know what he will do with them, unless he sets up a menagerie. He asked -Miss Laura the other day, if she thought that the old Italian would take -him into partnership. He did not know what had happened to poor Bellini, -so Miss Laura told him. - -A few years ago the Italian came to Riverdale, to exhibit his new stock -of performing animals. They were almost as good as the old ones, but he -had not quite so many as he had before. The Morrises and a great many -of their friends went to his performance, and Miss Laura said afterward, -that when cunning little Billy came on the stage, and made his bow, and -went through his antics of jumping through hoops, and catching balls, -that she almost had hysterics. The Italian had made a special pet of him -for the Morrises' sake, and treated him more like a human being than a -dog. Billy rather put on airs when he came up to the farm to see us, but -he was such a dear, little dog, in spite of being almost spoiled by his -master, that Jim and I could not get angry with him. In a few days -they went away, and we heard nothing but good news from them, till last -winter. Then a letter came to Miss Laura from a nurse in a New York -hospital. She said that the Italian was very near his end, and he wanted -her to write to Mrs. Gray to tell her that he had sold all his animals -but the little dog that she had so kindly given him. He was sending -him back to her, and with his latest breath he would pray for heaven's -blessing on the kind lady and her family that had befriended him when he -was in trouble. - -The next day Billy arrived, a thin, white scarecrow of a dog. He was -sick and unhappy, and would eat nothing, and started up at the slightest -sound. He was listening for the Italian's footsteps, but he never came, -and one day Mr. Harry looked up from his newspaper and said, "Laura, -Bellini is dead." Miss Laura's eyes filled with tears, and Billy, who -had jumped up when he heard his master's name, fell back again. He -knew what they meant, and from that instant he ceased listening for -footsteps, and lay quite still till he died. Miss Laura had him put in -a little wooden box, and buried him in a corner of the garden, and when -she is working among her flowers, she often speaks regretfully of him, -and of poor Dandy, who lies in the garden at Fairport. - -Bella, the parrot, lives with Mrs. Morris, and is as smart as ever. I -have heard that parrots live to a very great age. Some of them even get -to be a hundred years old. If that is the case, Bella will outlive all -of us. She notices that I am getting blind and feeble, and when I go -down to call on Mrs. Morris, she calls out to me, "Keep a stiff upper -lip, Beautiful Joe. Never say die, Beautiful Joe. Keep the game a-going, -Beautiful Joe." - -Mrs. Morris says that she doesn't know where Bella picks up her slang -words. I think it is Mr. Ned who teaches her, for when he comes home in -the summer he often says, with a sly twinkle in his eye, "Come out into -the garden, Bella," and he lies in a hammock under the trees, and Bella -perches on a branch near him, and he talks to her by the hour. Anyway, -it is in the autumn after he leaves Riverdale that Bella always shocks -Mrs. Morris with her slang talk. - -I am glad that I am to end my days in Riverdale. Fairport was a very -nice place, but it was not open and free like this farm. I take a walk -every morning that the sun shines. I go out among the horses and cows, -and stop to watch the hens pecking at their food. This is a happy place, -and I hope my dear Miss Laura will live to enjoy it many years after I -am gone. - -I have very few worries. The pigs bother me a little in the spring, by -rooting up the bones that I bury in the fields in the fall, but that is -a small matter, and I try not to mind it. I get a great many bones here, -and I should be glad if I had some poor, city dogs to help me eat them. -I don't think bones are good for pigs. - -Then there is Mr. Harry's tame squirrel out in one of the barns that -teases me considerably. He knows that I can't chase him, now that my -legs are so stiff with rheumatism, and he takes delight in showing me -how spry he can be, darting around me and whisking his tail almost in my -face, and trying to get me to run after him, so that he can laugh at me. -I don't think that he is a very thoughtful squirrel, but I try not to -notice him. - -The sailor boy who gave Bella to the Morrises has got to be a large, -stout man, and is the first mate of a vessel. He sometimes comes here, -and when he does, he always brings the Morrises presents of foreign -fruits and curiosities of different kinds. - -Malta, the cat, is still living, and is with Mrs. Morris. Davy, the rat, -is gone, so is poor old Jim. He went away one day last summer, and no -one ever knew what became of him. The Morrises searched everywhere for -him, and offered a large reward to any one who would find him but he -never turned up again. I think that he felt he was going to die, and -went into some out-of-the-way place. He remembered how badly Miss Laura -felt when Dandy died, and he wanted to spare her the greater sorrow of -his death. He was always such a thoughtful dog, and so anxious not to -give trouble. I am more selfish. I could not go away from Miss Laura -even to die. When my last hour comes, I want to see her gentle face -bending over me, and then I shall not mind how much I suffer. - -She is just as tender-hearted as ever, but she tries not to feel too -badly about the sorrow and suffering in the world, because she says that -would weaken her, and she wants all her strength to try to put a stop -to some of it. She does a great deal of good in Riverdale, and I do not -think that there is any one in all the country around who is as much -beloved as she is. - -She has never forgotten the resolve that she made some years ago, that -she would do all that she could to protect dumb creatures. Mr. Harry and -Mr. Maxwell have helped her nobly. Mr. Maxwell's work is largely done -in Boston, and Miss Laura and Mr. Harry have to do the most of theirs by -writing, for Riverdale has got to be a model village in respect of the -treatment of all kinds of animals. It is a model village not only in -that respect, but in others. It has seemed as if all other improvements -went hand in hand with the humane treatment of animals. Thoughtfulness -toward lower creatures has made the people more and more thoughtful -toward themselves, and this little town is getting to have quite a name -through the State for its good schools, good society, and good business -and religious standing. Many people are moving into it, to educate their -children.. The Riverdale people are very particular about what sort of -strangers come to live among them. - -A man, who came here two years ago and opened a shop, was seen kicking -a small kitten out of his house. The next day a committee of Riverdale -citizens waited on him, and said they had had a great deal of trouble -to root out cruelty from their village, and they didn't want any one to -come there and introduce it again, and they thought he had better move -on to some other place. The man was utterly astonished, and said he'd -never heard of such particular people. He had had no thought of being -cruel. He didn't think that the kitten cared; but now when he turned the -thing over in his mind, he didn't suppose cats liked being kicked about -any more than he would like it himself, and he would promise to be kind -to them in future. He said, too, that if they had no objection, he would -just stay on, for if the people there treated dumb animals with such -consideration, they would certainly treat human beings better, and he -thought it would be a good place to bring up his children in. Of -course they let him stay, and he is now a man who is celebrated for his -kindness to every living thing; and he never refuses to help Miss Laura -when she goes to him for money to carry out any of her humane schemes. - -There is one most important saying of Miss Laura's that comes out of her -years of service for dumb animals that I must put in before I close and -it is this. She says that cruel and vicious owners of animals should be -punished, but to merely thoughtless people, don't say "Don't" so much. -Don't go to them and say, "Don't overfeed your animals, and don't starve -them and don't overwork them, and don't beat them," and so on through -the long list of hardships that can be put upon suffering animals, but -say simply to them, "Be kind. Make a study of your animals' wants, -and see that they are satisfied. No one can tell you how to treat your -animal as well as you should know yourself, for you are with it all the -time, and know its disposition, and just how much work it can stand, and -how much rest and food it needs, and just how it is different from every -other animal. If it is sick or unhappy, you are the one to take care of -it; for nearly every animal loves its own master better than a stranger, -and will get well quicker under his care." - -Miss Laura says that if men and women are kind in every respect to their -dumb servants, they will be astonished to find how much happiness they -will bring into their lives, and how faithful and grateful their dumb -animals will be to them. - -Now, I must really close my story. Good-bye to the boys and girls who -may read it; and if it is not wrong for a dog to say it, I should like -to add, "God bless you all." If in my feeble way I have been able to -impress you with the fact that dogs and many other animals love their -masters and mistresses, and live only to please them, my little story -will not be written in vain. My last words are, "Boys and girls, be -kind to dumb animals, not only because you will lose nothing by it, but -because you ought to; for they were placed on the earth by the same Kind -Hand that made all living creatures." - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Beautiful Joe, by Marshall Saunders - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BEAUTIFUL JOE *** - -***** This file should be named 2818.txt or 2818.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/2/8/1/2818/ - -Produced by David Reed - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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