The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1886-01-15
FID0'S LITTLE FRIEND.
Why He Did Not Answer Those
Who Called to Him.

One morning in May Fido sat on the
front porch, and he was deep in
thought. He was wondering whether
the people who were moving into the
next house were as cross and unfeeling
as the people who had just moved out.
lie hoped they were not, for the peo-
pie who had just moved out had never
treated Fido with that respect and kind
ness which Fido believed he was on all
occasions entitled to.
1.-The newcomers must be nice
folks, said Fido to himself, "for their
feather-beds look big and comfortable,
and their baskets are all ample and
generous--and see, there goes bright
gilt cage, and there is a plump yellow
canary bird in It'll Oh, how glad Mrs.
'Tabby will be to see it-she so dotes on
dear little canary birds!"
Mrs. Tabhy was the old brindled cat,
who was the mother of the four cum
ming little kittens in the hay-mow.
tido had heard her remark very purr-
lngly only q few days ago that she
longed for a canary bird, just to amuse
her little ones and give them correct
musical ears. Honest old Fido! There
was no guile i'll his heart, and he never
dreamed there was in all the wide
world such sin as hypocrisy. So
when Fido saw the little canary bird in
the cage he was glad for Mrs. Tabby's
sake.
When Fido sat on tie front porch
and watched the people moving into
the next house another pair of ewes
peeped out of the old hollow maple
over the way. This was the red-head-
ed woodpecker who had warm, cozy
nest far down in the hollow maple, and
IN the nest there were four beautiful
eggs, of which the red-headed wood
pecker was very proud.
Good morning, Mr.. Fido," called
the red-headed woodpecker from her
high perch. You are out bright and
early to-day. And what do you think
of our new neighborsp"
upon my word, can not tell" re-
piled Fido, wagging his tail cheerily,
'tor | am not acquainted with them.
But have been watching them closely
and by to-day noon think l shall be
ON speaking terms with them-pro-
Vided, of course, they are not the cross,
mkind people our old neighbors
were.
"Oh, l do so hope there are no little
boys in the family" sighed the red
headed woodpecker; and then she
added, with much determination and a
defiant toss of her beautiful head: IL
hate little boys!"
"Why SOP" inquired Fido. GAS for
myself, l love little boys. l have al
ways found them the pleasantest of
companions. Why do yoa dislike
themp"
Because they are wicked" said the
Ted-headed woodpecker. '.They climb
trees and break up the nests we have
worked so hard to build, and they steal
away our lovely eggs-oh, l hate little
boysm
"Good little boys don't steal birds
eggs" said Fdo, "and I'm sure
never would play with bad boy"
But the red-headed woodpecker in
sisted that all little boys We're wicked,
and, firm in this faith, she flew away to
the linden over yonder, where, she had
heard the thrush say, there lived a
family of fat, white grubs. The red
headed woodpeeker wanted her break
fast and it would have been hard to
find more palatable morsel for her
than a white, fat grub.
As for E1o 10 SaI On +l,o F~o,,4
porch and watched the people mov-
ing in. And as he watched them he
thought of what the red-headed wood
pecker had said, and he wondered
whether it could be possible for little
boys to be so cruel as to rob birds nests.
AS he brooded over this sad possibility
his train of thought was interrupted by
the sound of voice that fell pleasantly
on his ears.
Google, google, goggiel" said the
voice, "Tum here, little goggie--tum
here, google, google, goggierf
Fdo looked whence the voice seemed
to come and he saw tiny figure ON the
other side of the fence-a cunning baby
figure in the yard that belonged to the
house where the new neighbors were
moving in. A second glance assured
Fido that the calling stranger was a
little boy not more than three years
old, wearing pretty dress and broad
hat that concealed his yellow han and
shaded his big blue eyes and dimpled
face. The sight was pleasing one
and Fido vibrated his tail-very eau
tiously, however. for Fido was not
quite certain that the little boy meant
his greeting for him, and Fido's sad
experience with the old neighbors had
made him wary about scraping az
quaintances too hastily.
"Tum, little google" persisted the
prattling stranger, and, as if to en-
courage Ndo, the little boy stretched
his chubby arms through the fence,
and waved them entreatingly.
Fido was convinced now; so he got
up, and with many cordial gestures of
his hospltable tail, trotted down the
steps ana over the lawn to the corner
of the fence where the little stranger
was.
''Me love 90, said the little stranger,
patting Fdo's honest brown back; 'sme
love 90, little goggie!'
lido knew that, for there were ca
resses in every stroke of the dhnpled
hands. Fido loved the little boy, too