The Anderson intelligencer. [volume] (Anderson Court House, S.C.) 1860-1914, 1894-05-16
91dersnt4 gatsIligeueef.
A STORY FOR THE CHILDREN.

SlVUx EVh AAN OAAAOnA"s
There were three of us children
Fred, my brother, generally called
Fritz, eight years old; myself six
years old; my sister, Mabel, four. Our
mother had died when we were little
tots too young to remember her; 30
the head Of the house practically was
a Miss Fisher, a good woman, albeit q
little hard and stern, a fine housekecp-
or; middle-aged lady with warm
regard for dogs and "sich" in the alb.
stract-the long way off neighbor' s dog,
but for che nearby, muddy-footod ca
nine her sympathy was nil.
My father was tender-hcarted gen
tleman and while driving by farm
house late one cold evening in Decem-
Der he had met the farmer in the road
with basket on his arm containing
four little crying, curly puppies Six
weeks old. He stopped the man and
asked him what he had in the basket.
The man told him, and said he was on
his way to the creek to drown them.
When my father found where those
little puppies were to sleep that mig ght
he forgot all about his nice clean home
and the housekeeper who ruled us all
with rod of iron and the scrubbing
brush and said to the man, pulling out a
handful of silver: Il can't take them
all, but here is three dollars for the
best one Of the let A little black
puppy was quickly transferred from
the basket to the straw in the bottom
of my fathers buggy and brought
home to Fritz, and Nab and me. He
was black and curly, shivering and
hungry but friendly, butwe loved him
instantly. He was the first pet that
was really and truly our own especial
property. That dear little motherless,
homeless Newfoundland puppy. l
shall never forget him. Most chill
dren's ails and troubles are cured by
something good to :eat, so We hustled
around and got him some warm milk
and soft bread. His feet were in the
saucer as often as his nose, but we IL
nally got him filled up. Then, with q
wary eye on Fisher, who had been OBJ
serving the new dog and his supper
with unfriendly eye, we smuggled
him upstairs into my brothers room
and put him between the sheets OF the
bed. He cried a little, for the cold shets
did not feel a. Bit like, the warm fur
coats of his mother and brothers and
sisters. >,
A bright idea struck me, and Fritz
and I induced Nab to let me take off
her little flannel skirt. We warmed
it by the fireplace and wrapped
the dog in it. The warmth of the
flannel and to big; supper of bread and
milk in his stomach soon made the
puppy draw long sigh Of content and
20 to sleep. What if did burn big
hole in Mab's f.nnel petticoat and
get my ear smartly pulled next morn
ing? In the sense OF achild' 8 life what
does one more or less ear pulling mat
ter, I'd like to know?
The next morning bright and early
we held caucus to name the pup.
After much argument pro and con and
considerable canvassing we settled on
the name Of "Don." This, I am
proud to say, was my selection. My
final clincher settled it: "We'ye all
got good, strong lungs and you both
know we've got, to- keep this pup q
good long ways from Fisher or she'll
make father give him away to some OF
the neighbors, SO We want a name that
this dog can hear and understand a
mile off. Don lis the name. So,
after singly practicing on the'euphony
and carrying power Of the name, it was
unanimously adopted.
While the dog was getting his
breakfast,immediately after his chris
tening Eve discovered to our horror
that he was literally covered with aeas.
Instead of borrowing trouble as older
people might and wisely thinking
Fisher not the proper one to consult
in such dilemma, We applied to a
nearby neighbor's big boy. He was
several years our senior image and in
sin. He speedily convinced us that
nothing but a kerosene oil bath would
save our pups life and kill the sturdy
Aeas. To this day | am in doubt as
to that boys knowledge and good in
tentions. We bad no choice, howev-
er, SO Fritz toted the two-gallon can
Of kerosene and I the dog to the pri.
yacy of an old unused warehouse in
the rear Of the place and proceeded to
doctor Don. I held him and rubbed
the oil in and my brother poured it on:
That poor little pup! He howled and
cried and scratched and tore. We
certainly killed the feas but we near
ly killed the dog. 1t was December
and very cold, and will you believe it,
when that dog grew up his hair grew
in as straight as poker, and more
whenever that boy could catch sight
of Don and his straight hair he would
double up in the most awful yells of
laughter as if he had cucumber cramps.
Whether that kerosene oil bath
Strengthened Don's hair or whether, as
Fisher used meanly to insinuate, he
was mongrel and not thoroughbred
Newfoundland, I never knew; but
you can depend on it when I tell you
that Fritz nor Nab nor | never cared
a cent whether he was pedigreed or
mongrel.
There is nothing in Don's history
to lead us to believe that he had ever
slept in a real clean bed between real
clean sheets until the night he was
brought home to us, but that expert
ence was his undoing and ours.
Don's feet grew apace. They were
large, very large and dreadfully mud
dy; they made the. most awful tracks
on stone and clean scrubbed floors and
carpets, and he insisted on sleeping in
beds, not on them.
That dog could mt draw comforta-
bic breath of sleep when night came
if he wasn't stretched out between
the nice clean sheets with his dear old
head resting upon the pillow, "like
folks" he was very knowing, but he
didn't always take great pains to wash
his feet before retiring and we often
forgot to jog his memory and in the
morning there would be the tell-tale
r j