The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1891-10-09
THE DOG WITHOUT A NAME.
A Romance of a Friendless Canine and s
Cotton-He Girl.

Cotton Headed Girl.
The public pound at Kedzie avenue
and Van Buren, street was being white
washed. A coat of whitewash at the
public pound is as much of foreign
luxury as a cottage organ in atenement
house. The whole nelghborhood is con-
cerned in it. Dirty faced children play
ing house in adjacent ash barrels came
over and discussed the great public i'm
provement with the imprisoned dogs.
Hardly had the first brush touched the
boards before one of the attendants
came out and drove the children away.
"You needn't be plagin' the city's
property and maxim 'em savage just
afore kiln" said the dog-catcher.
SIS they all going to be killed, Mr..
Man?" asked one cotton-headed little
girl
They certainly is, and people as
wants dogs had better get their face
open plenty rapid"
do you give them away, Mister?"
"Naw, we sell 'em-Git-'
And perhaps the dogs knew and heard
it all.
The hour set for the killing was 5
o'clock and already the charcoal was
hcapcd up in front of the big air-tight
death kennel. Some of the dogs be-
guiled away the hours before the mas
sacre by fighting in vacant corners,
others slept, and many pressed their
black noses against the bars and whined
out calls for help destined never to be
heard. In the great low-roofed den were
pampered pets and fashions follics,
skyes and settlers, coaches and collies,
thorough breds and tramps mastiffs and
mongrels, and one that whined apart
just plain dog, without a friend and
without a name.
Perhaps when night fell and the dogs
were all dead many Il childish heart
would be bowed down in its first sor-
row, and many darling head pillowed
in tears. For days after the killing
some little elfin creature would wander
about companionless. There were kind
words, remembrances, for all except
the dog without Il name. He had starved
alone; he could whine alone; he could
die alone.
All day long people came and went
from the pound. Some were looking
for lost pets and some buying the lease
of life of the dogs doomed. All the
long day the dog without friend
watched the procession come and 60
Often he heard masters kindly greet
ing and the glad bark of his freed COM
panions. Then he trotted up and down,
and peercd through every crevice. He
looked plcadingly into the faces of the
passers.by and whined for look Of
recognition. But he was just plain
dog without a name, and he had no
friends.
All day long the little cotton-headed
girl remained playing in the gutter
across from the pound, She watched
every visitor and ran after every libcr-
ated dog Then she would steal across
to the pound and peep in through a
crevice in the main kennel 1t was 5
o'clock and the charcoal fires in the
pound had been lighted. There was a
soft rap on the door.
The little cotton headed girl was
there.
90 Mr. Man, I want to buy my dog
before he's killed"
"Hello! little Miss Cinders What
have you got therc?' said one of the at
PENDANTS, glancing at a battered little
shook out its contents, two plugged
niclicls, four copper cents, and a dozen
or more tin tobacco tags.
(Which is your dog, little one?' said
the attendant rather kindly as he held
the child to the grating of the main ken
mel room.
There he is; he knows me. Don't
you see him loOllin' and cryin' up at
me-" and the tiny index finger touched
Il black nose pressed against the bars,
1t was a dog without name and with
out a friend.
"What an ugly little brute!' said the
attendant as he pulled the dog out.
Here. little Miss Mudpics, You may
have him This time, but if he gets in
the wagon again he's gone. Take your
pennies and vamoose."
When twilight came the little cotton
headed girl could be seen across from
the pound talking to the dog. do you
know, she said to him, 1--WE all of us
looked in an picked out a dog an called
it ourn, and picked ont you, cause you
was so brave-like an knew me right
away. My names Phebe and Pm goin'
to give you to the Alderman, cause you
look 50 wise an handsome"
And when twilight fed like a butter
fiy, brushing the gold from its wing, the
Alderman banked from a tenement alley
where his mistress lived. He had
found a friend and a name.-Chicago
Tribune.
THE FL ORAL GI OHK