diff --git "a/data/train/2818.txt" "b/data/train/2818.txt" new file mode 100644--- /dev/null +++ "b/data/train/2818.txt" @@ -0,0 +1,8712 @@ + + + + +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 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 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 + 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 +s, 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- +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- 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 + +*** \ No newline at end of file