X S( i> STORIESOF BRAVE DOGS RETGLD.FRQM Hatt QIalbge of Agticulturp At Qlacnell MniuecBttH attltaca, N. 5. Hibrary 1 QL 79a.D«>U9 Stories of brave dogs, retold from St. N 3 1924 002 902 298 DATE DUE WA^ k^m V h - I MM w \i ■ jy«u ^ ^^^jai^^i^ M>f^ GAYLORD PRINTED INU.S. A. Cornell University Library The original of tiiis book is in tine Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924002902298 STORIES OF BRAVE DOGS ANIMAL STORIES RETOLD FROM ST. NICHOLAS MAGAZINE IN SIX VOLUMES. EDITED BY M. H. CARTER, DEPARTMENT OF SCIENCE, NEW YORK TRAINING SCHOOL FOR TEACHERS ¥ ABOUT ANIMALS Interesting facts about animals in general. BEAR STORIES Information and adventure, CAT STORIES Dealing with the cat as a pet. STORIES OF BRAVE DOGS Showing the dog's love and devotion to man. LION AND TIGER STORIES Stories of adventure PANTHER STORIES Stories of adventure. EACH ABOUT 200 PAGES, FULL CLOTH, 12M0 THE CENTURY CO b er Bo ton MARCO, ONE OF QL EEN VICTORIA'S FAVORITE DOGS STORIES OF BRAVE DOGS RETOLD FROM ST. NICHOLAS EDITED BY M. H. CARTER DEPARTMENT OF SCIENCE OF THE MEW YORK TRAINING SCHOOL FOR TEACHERS NEW YORK THE CENTURY CO. 1911 Qui?:'' Copyright, 1875, 1876, 1880, 1882, 1883, 1885, 1886, 1887, 1890, 1894, 1895, 1896, 1897, 1899, 1900, 1901, 1902, 1903, 1904, by The Century Co. @ -^f'l r THE DEVINNE PRESB VERSES FROM "TO FLUSH, MY DOG" Underneath my stroking hand, Startled eyes of hazel bland Kindling, growing larger, Up thou leapest with a spring, Full of prank and curveting. Leaping like a charger. But of thee it shall be said. This dog watched beside a bed Day and night unweary.— Watched within a curtained room Where no sunbeam broke the gloom. Round the sick and dreary. And because he loves me so. Better than his kind will do Often man or woman. Give I back more love again Than dogs often take from men. Leaning from my human. Elizabeth Barrett Browning. TIME-TABLE STORIES THAT MAY BE READ ALOUD IN LESS THAN FIVE MINUTES Carlo Dandy Dash Bruno Bombshell How Paul Called off the Dog Owney, of the Mail-bags FIVE-TEN MINUTES Little Man Friday Pedro A Snow-king Cupid and the Mutineers The Greyhound's Warning Gipsy Owney, the Post-office Dog Owney's Trip around the World TEN-FIFTEEN MINUTES Peter Spots FIFTEEN-TWENTY MINUTES The School-room Dog CONTENTS PACK Eleven or None Malcolm Douglas I Carlo Effie Squier 2 Dandy Dash and How He Gave the Alarm 7 Grace Weld Soper Bruno Mrs. C. v. Jamison 12 Bombshell: An Artillery Dog 20 Lieutenant John C. W. Brooks Little Man Friday ciara Morris 31 " I Hear the Barking of Leo " . . . r.w. aider 45 How Paul Called off the Dog . Lavima s. Goodwin 46 Pedro . . ' Wm. M. F. Round 5 5 A Snow-king Frank R. Stockton 69 Cupid and the Mutineers .... Mary j. Safford 80 My Chum Dorothea Jummis 87 The Greyhound's Warning . . . Hezekiah Butterworth 89 Fritz Rebecca Palfrey Utter 96 vii viii CONTENTS PACK Gipsy, the Biography of a Dog . . Thomas w. Knox 98 The Pirate Poodle caniyn Weiis 107 Peter Spots, Fireman c. t. mil 109 "Two Barks" Frank Le Seui 135 The School-room Dog .... Mary e. FUzgeraid 136 OwNEY, OF the Mail-bags m. i. ingersoii 165 Owney, the Post-office Dog .... Helen e. Creig 1 72 OWNEY'S Trip AROUND THE World Charles Frederick Holder l8l Ways and Means one Behind the Scenes 1 90 Dog Sayings 195 WITH illustrations BY W. L. Jacobs, C. T. Hill, W. H. Drake, E. M. Ashe, George Varian, Frederic Dorr Steele, M. Hanford, H. P. Share, C. E. Connard, Wm. A. McCullough, J. C. Beard, J. G. Brown, J. Montgomery Flagg, Elise Bohn, Oliver Herford, Ellen B. Thompson, R. B. Birch PREFACE There are tens of thousands of kinds of animals in the world, but among them all there is just one that is our friend and helper,— just one that shares our family life and knows us indoors and out. This is the dog. We might fill one large volume with descriptions of the breeds of dogs, from the noble St. Bernard to the tiny black-and-tan. We might fill a second volume with accounts of his wonderful intelligence and his helpful- ness, and a third with stories of his devotion to his hu- man friends and his bravery in saving them from danger and death. It is this brave, devoted side of dog life that you will find in this book. Not the least interesting are the stories of Owney, the post-office dog, who must have been one of the most remarkable dogs that ever lived. He did not attach himself to a single man or family as most dogs do, but to all the men of the postal service; and X PREFACE for years he traveled about the country of his own ac- cord, taking care of the United States mail-bags. Why dogs have come to love us so much more than other animals do we shall probably never find out. Per- haps they believe they own us, instead of our owning them ! Who knows but some faithful old fellow may be thinking to himself, " This nice boy and this big house belong to me, so I must take good care of them." At any rate, one thing is certain: there are few dogs who will not return all the love and kindness they receive. Maybe you have a dog-friend and understand dogs. If you have not you will learn something about the noble, loving animal from these stories that will make you kinder to all dogs and readier for the fortunate day when you may be owned by a Brave Dog. STORIES OF BRAVE DOGS ELEVEN OR NONE BY MALCOLM DOUGLAS A KINDLY-LOOKING gentleman one day accosted me: " Do you know any one who wants eleven dogs? " asked he. " They 're so gentle and so good That I 'd keep them if I could, But I really can't gratify their appetite for food." I told him I 'd take one, but he slowly shook his head ; " There are many who have told me that they wanted one," he said, " But I 've such a tender heart That I could n't bear to part Eleven little doggies all so loving in their sport ! " They would soon pine for each other, and the person who wants one - Must either take the family or be content with none ! ' Impossible! ' you say? Then I '11 bid you a good day," And, followed by his many pets, he sauntered on his way. CARLO BY EFFIE SQUIER HOW well we all remember Carlo! He was a dear old dog, and belonged to Mr. Rhodes, the constable of our town. He was a sharp detective, and had many a time discovered the hiding-places of thieves. Even we children used to be a little afraid of him, for if we had done anything wrong Carlo would be sure to know all about it, and scold us for it too. One day he saved the Mayor's little daughter from drowning, and from that day he became a hero. The cit- izens presented him with a gold collar for his bravery, but Carlo never showed any especial pride because of this decoration. Carlo always made a point of attending all the fires in the town. He could mount a ladder like a fireman, and well do I recollect the last of his adventures. It was toward evening on a holiday, and few people were in the place, as most of the citizens of the town were absent on an excursion to a neighboring lake. I remember feeling sadly disappointed at having to miss the excursion myself. At about five o'clock the 2 CARLO 3 bells in the churches began to ring very loud and fast, and Carlo, who had been lazily sleeping and watching the place, started up, and with two or three expressive growls that summoned his master, ran with all speed for the fire. There was a general shout that " Carlo was going ! " and of course all the boys in the neighborhood hastened to follow. The dog was very busy and intelligent all the time, dragging down the stairs, with great speed and 'care, things of every description. As the last house was burning, the cry of a child was heard in the upper story. Of course it was out of the question for any one to go up and expect to come back ; but Carlo seemed to take in the situation at a glance. Knowing in his dog mind that the first stories were already in a blaze, he leaped up the ladder and jumped in through the window. The fire and smoke soon drove him back, but his master, who appeared at that moment, shouted to him to go in, and. the people cheered. Whether he understood or not, he again en- tered the window, and when all hope of his return had been given up, a boyish shout announced his arrival. He was terribly burned, and fell before he reached the ground— still holding with wonderful firmness a little babe. 4 BRAVE DOGS The child did not prove to be greatly harmed ; but poor Carlo's injuries were fatal. The brave dog received every care, but he died the next day. He was buried in a pretty spot in the cemetery, and over his grave a little white stone was placed with this inscription : HERE LIES CARLO THE WISE A DOG WHO SHOWED ALMOST HUMAN INTELLIGENCE AND SKILL IN THE FIRE OF 1 875 DANDY DASH DANDY DASH AND HOW HE GAVE THE ALARM (y/ True Story ) BY GRACE WELD SOPER THE black and white dog seen every day on the bank above the street and the little railroad, blink- ing with unending curiosity at passers-by, has an every- day name and a " best " name. When timid little girls hurry by to school, they whisper, " There 's Dandy ! " When boys pass, they call, "Hello, Dandy!" That is his every-day name. It seemed to fit him when he first tumbled out of the box in which he had come all the way from Maine. In great surprise he stood looking about, and everybody looked at him. He had on a dress-suit, a glossy black coat and white shirt-front and white gloves; and on the tip of his tail he carried a gay little tassel, while his hair was parted in the middle. A funny little dog he was, running up to every one, not at all afraid or bashful. All the people in the house wanted to pat his head, and some one said: " Is n't he a dandy! " 7 8 BRAVE DOGS So he found a name. Because of his quick movements we added his other name, " Dash." Dandy's lot fell in a dogless neighborhood. On our right lived a prominent citizen, without " chick or child," who considered dogs nuisances. The family on the left neither liked nor disliked dogs: they were indifferent. But in the two houses across the street no one liked dogs ; one man even spoke roughly to them. It hurts his feelings to be repulsed. Sometimes he shows unhappiness by a few barks or growls, but a kind word or pat consoles him. Dandy is apt to think that tricks are beneath his dig- nity, and sometimes yawns when urged to. show off. He has never been taught by severity, or by the promise of candy or any reward. He stands listening carefully to what is told him in a quiet tone. " Now, Dandy, your coat is very rough ; where is your brush?" His eyes sparkle ; he gives a well-bred wag of his tail, rushes to the drawer, and drags forth the brush. In the same school of patience and kindness Dandy has learned to carry baskets and bundles and to find dif- ferent things, bringing newspapers from one person to another and picking up anything dropped on the floor. If he feels happy and obedient, he likes to bring shoes to people who come home tired from the city: he trots up- DANDY DASH stairs with much lightness, and quietly brings down the slippers, one at a time. If he happens to be sleepy or lazy, he yawns, shakes himself, and climbs heavily up- stairs, making as much noise as he can. After a long, THE GAME OF "TRAMPS' SHOES" long time he comes back, dragging the shoes, which clat- ter, clatter, clip, clip all the way. "Dandy!" I say in a sorrowful way, and then feel obliged to scold a little, until he gives me two white paws and looks up beseechingly with his brown eyes; this means that he is ashamed of himself and will be more obliging next time. He has a hundred sports of his own, but his favorite plays with others are ball and a game called " Tramps' Shoes." Both are amusing. His ball is kept in the cor- lo BRAVE DOGS ner of a drawer; when he feels hke playing he will sit by the drawer, with his nose pointed at the corner, and wait patiently until some one takes out the ball. Then the game begins. " Go out of the room. Dandy," is said. He trots out in a great hurry, and waits until the ball is hidden, no matter how long we may be. " Come! " He dances in lightly, and with a soft, mysterious manner, examines every nook and corner till he finds the ball. Then how his tail wags ! Sometimes he peeks through a crack in the door while it is being hidden, but he is much ashamed if we say: " Oh, Dandy, you peeked ! " and goes softly out again with drooping tail and ears. In playing " Tramps' Shoes " he brings up all the old shoes which he can find in the garret or stable or cellar or anywhere about the place, and shakes them. He has taught many dogs to shake shoes with him, and I am sorry to say that when he has not a stock of shoes on hand he tries to shake the cat, but she always proves to be too nimble for him. One bright moonlight night in June the whole town was asleep and still, as country places are at midnight. Suddenly some one heard Dandy barking furiously. It was a calm night ; not a breath was stirring, and the air was sweet. Probably Dandy was thought to be barking DANDY DASH ii at the moon, for nobody paid any attention to him. After barking a long time, he began to howl, and then to whine and cry. Never had he been so neglected. But, although discouraged, he did not yet entirely despair, and he barked frantically. Then some one went to see what was the trouble. Then arose a cry, startling, and never to be forgotten by those who have heard it— the cry of " Fire ! " There stood Dandy, with his fore paws on the window-sill, looking at a blazing barn. He rushed to the one who entered the room, barked loudly, and then, whin- ing, ran back to the window. How the alarm spread, how the engines came and how the crowd gathered, no- body remembered afterward. The barn was burned, but the flames were checked from spreading, and Dandy's alarm saved the house. How the opinion about dogs changed in that neighbor- hood ! The people on the right said that they had always liked Dandy; the man on the left bought a lively little dog ; and, more wonderful still, the man who was inclined to be unkind to dogs bought a large watch-dog. Now Dandy Dash sits on the bank every day, growing more thoughtful as he becomes older. All the passers-by know him, and he is one of the honored residents. BRUNO BY MRS. C. V. JAMISON I FIRST saw Bruno, a magnificent St. Bernard, in one of the corridors of the Villa Quisisana, at Capri. He was sitting at the foot of the stairs ; his fine wide eyes, clear and luminous as agates, were fixed on the upper steps, where two women of mature years and affected youthfulness stood nervously hesitating as if they feared to descend. ' His master, a young Scotchman, as I afterward learned, had gone to call on a friend on the floor above, and had requested Bruno to wait there until he returned, and Bruno never disobeyed orders. The donkeys that were to carry the ladies on their daily excursion were waiting at the door with their im- patient padronas, while Bruno guarded the stairs, as im- movable as a sphinx. To me the scene was rather amusing. The gentle, benevolent-looking animal with his noble face and honest eyes was anything but awesome, and I tried to reassure BRUNO 13 the timid, nervous women by patting and fondling the dog's silky head. " I am sure you need not be afraid," I said, vainly try- ing, by tugging at his collar, to drag Bruno to one side. " You see how gentle he is. I am a stranger, and yet he allows me to put my hands on him. I am sure you can pass him safely." " Oh, no ; not for worlds ! " they cried, in one voice, with shrugs and timid gestures. " He is so large and savage-looking ! He is watching us, and if we go down he will attack us. We must return to our rooms and ring for the landlord. The dog must be sent out of the house. Either we or the dog must go." At that moment two other figures appeared at the top of the stairs : a nurse-maid and a lovely little girl of four or five years, a darling little creature whom we all adored, the only child of her mother, who was a widow. The moment little Rosalie saw the dog she flew down the stairs with a cry of delight : " Prince, my Prince ! " " No, no ; it 's not Prince," said the nurse ; " but he 's like Prince." Then in an explanatory tone to the ladies : " She has a large St. Bernard at home called Prince, and she 's very fond of him. Be careful, Rosalie," as the child fairly fell on the dog, hugging and caressing him lov- ingly. Still Bruno did not budge; neither did he remove his 14 BRAVE DOGS agate eyes from the top of the stairs ; but his great, gen- erous mouth smiled pleasantly, and his beautiful feathery tail wagged with gentle appreciation. " Now," I said invitingly to the two prisoners, " you surely are not afraid to come down; you see he is very friendly." " Do you think we might venture, sister ? " said one. " If you are sure it 's safe I will follow you," replied the other. Hesitatingly, and with many furtive glances at the innocent Bruno, they stepped timidly half-way down the flight of stairs, when suddenly Bruno gave a sharp, loud bark. He heard his master's step in the corridor above, and wished to tell him that he was waiting for him. But the frightened women thought it an attack, and imagin- ing that the dog was close upon them, they turned wildly for flight, with piercing shrieks that echoed to every corner of the villa. In an instant the landlord, the guests, the servants, and Bruno's master were on the spot, to find Bruno calmly sitting in the midst, his neck encircled with little Rosalie's arms, while his great eyes, full of earnest in- quiry, turned from one to the other as if asking what had happened. As soon as the timid women found that nothing had really taken place, that they were alive and unharmed, COURAGE ! COURAGE ! BRUNO WILL SAVE HER ' ' ' BRUNO 17 they began with great volubihty to demand of the land- lord that the faithful and obedient Bruno should be ex- pelled from the house. " You see, dear sir, how it is. If the ladies object what can I do ? " And the poor landlord shrugged his shoul- ders helplessly. " Certainly, my friend," said Bruno's master, good- humoredly. " But where Bruno goes I go. We will re- move to the Hotel Tiberio at once. The ladies are need- lessly alarmed. Bruno is the most gentlemanly dog I ever knew. He protects and defends women and chil- dren. He has a medal for bravery. He has saved five lives, three from the snow, and two from drowning. He is a hero ; he is a prince of dogs. He has a pedigree as long as my arm. There are many human beings who are less human than Bruno. Look at that little angel," he continued, glancing at Rosalie. " She recognizes the beautiful dumb soul. She does not fear him. They are alike in innocence, fearlessness, and affection. Come, my friend and companion, we will seek other quarters." And bowing pleasantly to the discomfited group, he walked off, followed by Bruno, while little Rosalie looked after them wistfully, and murmured to herself, " Prince, my Prince ! " And now for the sequel of this incident, of which I was not a witness, but I will tell it as it was told to me. 1 8 BRAVE DOGS A few days after Bruno and his master had removed to the Hotel Tiberio, Rosahe, her mother, and her nurse were on an excursion to the Villa Tiberio, which is near a majestic cliff that rises hundreds of feet above the sea. Just how it happened neither the mother nor the nurse could tell. They were sitting not far from the edge of the cliff, the mother sketching, the maid sewing, and Rosalie was near them, gathering the pretty campanellas that bloom profusely amid the ruins. A moment after, when they looked, she was gone ! With a cry of terror, the women sprang to the edge of the wall of rock, and there, fully ten feet below them, between the sea and the sky, hung Rosalie, caught by her muslin frock on a ragged point of rock. Beside herself with fear, the nurse rushed away for aid, while the mother hung over the edge of the cliff in helpless agony, stretching her hands imploringly toward her child. Alas ! Rosalie was far beyond her reach, and any moment the flimsy material of her frock might give way and plunge her into the depths beneath. Far, far below, among the rocks near the sea, were two moving figures, and while the mother shrieked for help, there came a hopeful shout : " Courage ! courage ! Bruno will save her!" It was Bruno's master, who was struggling up the face of the cliff, where there was scarce footing for man or BRUNO 19 beast. But Bruno was far in advance, puffing, snorting, pawing, clinging to tufts of grass and slight projections, inserting his strong nails in crevices and fissures, leaping chasm after chasm, fighting every inch of the way, his eyes blood-red, and his muzzle white with froth. On and on he caiBe until at last he reached the child. Seizing her firmly at the waist, and holding his powerful head well up, he pawed and wormed himself to the top of the cliff, and laid her, half unconscious, beside her mother. It seemed almost a miracle, but, beyond a few slight bruises, Rosalie was uninjured, and her first words were " Prince, my Prince ! " After that Bruno was indeed a hero and a prince to every one, and I, when I left him, felt like weeping. I have told you about him because he is the only prince and the greatest hero I have ever known personally. BOMBSHELL: AN ARTILLERY DOG (A True Story ) BY LIEUTENANT JOHN C. W. BROOKS TT was a new gun and a big one- big enough for most boys to crawl through, though they would have had to crawl forty feet before reaching the other end. One boy did try it, but when he was half-way through he became tired, and then got frightened at his cramped position and began to cry. Some workmen heard him, and, look- ing in to see which way he was heading, they put a long rammer-staff against his feet, and shoved him out as they would a shot. We were testing this big gun to see that it was sound and strong. We always tested every gun before it went into service. " We " consisted of the captain who superintended BOMBSHELL: AN ARTILLERY DOG 21 the tests, of the men who loaded and worked the gun, of the lookout who scanned the water with a telescope to see that the range was clear, of myself who aimed and fired the gun, and, last but not least, of my dog. Bomb- shell. I called him Bombshell because he was so fond of the shooting. He was always on hand when we tested a gun, and I cannot recall a single trial that he missed. Bombshell was a handsome Irish setter, and had more sense than most people. There were few things that he did not vxnderstand. He might not see through them at first, but if he did not he would think about them and reason over them until he did understand them. My parlor was a front casemate which opened by an arch into my bedroom, a back casemate. A casemate may be described as a room in the wall of a fort, gen- erally intended, in war-time, to hold a gun or powder, while in time of peace many of them, like mine, are fitted up for use as quarters for officers and soldiers. Bombshell had his own bed in the back casemate ; but he preferred my bed, and would use it whenever he could. I had tried to break him of the habit, but had not been successful. One day he came in wet and muddy, and, as usual, he curled up on my white counterpane. The result was awful ! As much as I hated to do so, I felt obliged to give him a thrashing. 22 BRAVE DOGS I never caught him on my bed again. He would still get on it ; but, no matter how quietly I came in, I would always find him on the floor, though I could see from the rumpled condition of the bed that he had been on it, and often the spot where he had slept would still be warm. One evening I went out, leaving Bombshell lying by the parlor stove. tiff " * SUPPOSE THAT MY MASTER HAS N't GONE ? ' * Out of curiosity I peeked through the half-turned slats of my shutters and watched him. From my position I was able to see the whole of both of my rooms. For a while Bombshell did not move ; then he raised his head and looked at the door ; finally he got up, stretched himself, yawned sleepily, walked to the bed, jumped up, and put his fore paws on it. Standing in this position, a thought struck him, and he said to himself: BOMBSHELL: AN ARTILLERY DOG 23 " Suppose that my master has n't gone ? I '11 go and make certain that he is not coming back." He took his paws off the bed, walked cautiously back to the front door, and, with his ear close to the crack, he listened. At last, satisfied that I had really gone, he trotted back to the bed, jumped on it, curled up, and went to sleep "he walked to the door and listened" After such a clever act I thought that he had earned his sleep, so I went away and left him. Bombshell, I was sure, had reasoned out everything connected with the firing of a gun. He knew that the powder made the noise, that the shot did the damage, that the lookout saw that the range was clear, and that the bomb-proof was to shelter us in case the gun should prove weak and burst. 24 BRAVE DOGS While a gun was being loaded, Bombshell would sit on the parapet and watch the operation. That finished, he would jump up and look out to sea over the range, and then scamper down from the parapet and follow us into the bomb-proof. As usual, Bombshell was on hand to see the test of the new big gun. He superintended the loading, and, while I was aiming ->Rp?~'^— i>. ' HE CURLED UP AND WENT TO SLEEP " the gun, he looked over the range as carefully as did the lookout ; and from his air of responsibility one might have supposed that to him had been intrusted the duty of seeing that the range was clear. But when we started for the bomb-proof, instead of following us, as was his custom. Bombshell remained on BOMBSHELL: AN ARTILLERY DOG 27 the parapet, looking out to sea and sniffing the air. In a moment he dashed off through the bushes which covered the narrow beach between the parapet and the sea. Though thinking his actions pecuhar, I was sure that he would not remain in front of the gun, because he had done so once, when quite young and inexperienced, and the burning grains of powder — which are always thrown out by the blast of a gun — had buried themselves in his skin, burning him badly. He had never forgotten this. Certain that he would take care of himself, I paid no further attention to him, but went with the others into the bomb-proof, and took my place by the electric key, ready to fire at the command of the captain. Just as the command " Fire ! " was about to be given, Bombshell reappeared on the parapet and began to bark furiously into the very muzzle of the gun. I called to him, but he would not come. Annoyed at the delay of the test, I tried to catch him, but could not do so. As I approached he retreated, still barking and apparently urging me to follow him. Finally, convinced from the dog's actions that some- thing was wrong, the electric wire was disconnected from the gun, and I followed Bombshell. Wagging his tail with joy at having accomplished his object, he led me through the underbrush to the beach. There, concealed behind a clump of bushes, were two 28 BRAVE DOGS little children quietly digging in the sand and entirely unconscious of the danger in which they had been. I knew then that when Bombshell had been standing on the parapet sniffing the air he had been saying to him- self: " Some people are in front of the gun. I can smell them. If they are there when the gun is fired they will be burned, as I was, and perhaps deafened besides by the blast of the discharge. I must find out for certain and prevent the gun from being fired." Bombshell received great praise for his sagacity, and the men declared that he deserved a medal, so they had one made and presented it to me. Bombshell wears it on his collar now, and on it is engraved : PRESENTED TO BOMBSHELL AS A REWARD FOR HAVING SAVED TWO LITTLE CHILDREN FROM SERIOUS INJURY BY THE DISCHARGE OF A LARGE GUN. Bombshell is very proud of his medal, and I believe that he knows its meaning. ^,m:.i'_ c^'- ., ' MAN' FRIDAY, WHEN BIDDEN TO GIVE UP THE BAG, GROWLED AS SAVAGELY AS A FULL MOUTH WOULD PERMIT*' LITTLE MAN FRIDAY BY CLARA MORRIS FRIDAY was a mongrel, like most boys' dogs. It would be much easier to say what he was not than what he was, for he was neither retriever, pointer, St. Bernard, Newfoundland, bull, nor mastiff — nor anything else that was well bred or clearly defined; but he was intelligence itself. He was never tired, never cross ; he was always ready to eat or sleep. He was of medium size, and he had a yellow-brown coat of short stiff hair marked by a dark stripe running down his backbone. Nature had carelessly given him four misfit feet much too large for him. At first sight people were apt to pity him for having to carry about such length and weight of caudal appendage as he had, and declared he should have been divorced from it in his earliest youth ; but once they saw the very tem- pest of joy that lumpy long tail could express,— saw it like a harp-string fairly vibrating with love and devo- tion, — they felt there was not one inch too much of it. In his ridiculous body he showed all the flighty activity of 31 32 BRAVE DOGS a fox-terrier, while in his rare moments of quietude his face wore a truly mastiff -like gravity. One morning of the equinoctial storm, — a Friday morning, — Mr. Ames, on opening his door, had found on the porch a wet, shivering, shaking, forlorn little puppy. He was empty, he was cold, and probably he was fright- ened, but he did n't show it if he was ; on the contrary, he rose and ambled with shivery joy to meet Mr. Ames, to whose face he lifted his bright eyes, gazing at him with that expression of immeasurable, undying trust that is found in its perfection only in the eyes of a boy's dog. Mr. Ames, as he stepped quickly back to avoid the rain, exclaimed : " Well, where on earth did you come from ? " But the puppy, moved doubtless by the same impulse to avoid further wetting, slipped inside without answering the question, and with the air of saying, " Yes, thank you, I will come in and rest awhile, since you press me so ! " he ambled across the room toward the stove. But his muddy feet left a number of tracks on the creamy whiteness of the kitchen floor, and Mrs. Ames — bustling and indignant — was making some threats about " put- ting that horrid little beast right out of there ! " when Harry came in. The moment the bold blue eyes of the boy met the bright brown eyes of the dog, they under- stood each other — each recognized in the other his miss- ing chum, LITTLE MAN FRIDAY 33 " Oh, mother ! " cried Harry, " I want him ! " And Mrs. Ames, turning the pancakes with unneces- sary emphasis, rephed that he " might go right on wantin' ! If he wanted a dog, he 'd better wait and get a good one, not a poor, miserable, splay-footed, no-breed thing like that ! " But Harry persisted, and when he saw the tracks on the floor he cried out : " Oh, please, mama, please let him stay just to-day, to play ' Man Friday ' when I 'm ' Robinson Crusoe ' ! See his nice footprints already made — and you won't let me go to school to-day — and I have to play with something!" and so on ; and Mrs. Ames, vowing that " she would ne'er consent," consented, of course. The little waif, with rare discretion, had meanwhile withdrawn to comparative seclusion behind the cozy kit- chen stove, where the pleasant warmth was gradually subduing his convulsive shivers ; and when Harry placed before him a dish of warm bread and milk, the hungry little chap cleaned the dish, and then, stretching himself out behind the stove, he slept like a small log until the children came from the dining-room and called him to take his part in their production of the thrilling drama of " Robinson Crusoe." But before beginning that they had to perform the important duty of naming him ; and considering the day of the week and the part he was to 34 BRAVE DOGS play for them, they thought that Little Man Friday would be a suitable name. Mrs. Ames, for different rea- sons, quite agreed with them, for she declared that Fri- day was the worst day of the week, and the puppy was the worst-looking specimen of dog she ever saw! — tak- ing the sting off her words, however, by placing a basin of drinking water in the corner for him. And so the little wanderer and waif had suddenly found himself in possession of a local habitation and a name. While he was known as Little Man Friday to the children, to the neighbors he was known as Little Friday Ames. His ears were a bit jagged on the edges in consequence of his too ready obedience to Harry's promiscuous " sick- ings." Man Friday was not heavy enough to be a suc- cessful fighter — not strong enough; he almost always got whipped; but that made no difference to him. A " s-s-sick 'em " to a dog is what a " dare " is to a boy, and being a boy's dog, Friday could n't take a dare ; and had Harry " sicked " him at a royal Bengal tiger, he would have done his loyal, idiotic little best to tackle the awful beast. It was surjDrising, the amount of knowledge the dog had gained in two years. Every boy in the neighborhood knew he was worth his weight in gold as a finder of lost balls. He could carry canes, and bring sticks out of the "a boy's dog" LITTLE MAN FRIDAY 37 water. He walked on his hind legs, sat up badly, and smoked a pipe worse, and was a grateful dog that these three tricks were only required of him on wet Saturday afternoons. Like all intelligent dogs, he could measure time very well. Every morning he escorted the children to the school-yard gate, there giving up to Sue the small bag containing the primer, slate, and apples that in those days were considered sufficient for the beginning of every young person's education. This surrender was, of course, not made peacefully — every boy's dog will under- stand that. Man Friday, when bidden to give up the bag, growled as savagely as a full mouth would permit, and quite properly jerked the bag away from the hand held out for it. A struggle always followed, in which some very dreadful blows had to be inflicted by Sue's chubby hands, while the delighted tots looking on screamed with glee : " Oh, he 's goin' to bite ! yes, he is, too — he 's goin' to bite! " And then the invincible Sue boldly seized upon the long tail, and Little Friday Ames dropped the bag to defend himself ; while, with shrieks of triumph, the bag was snatched up, and his duty of amusing the children done, he turned and trotted home alone, wisely attending to any visiting of his own during that period of quiet. Truth to tell, Man Friday had but few friends of his 38 BRAVE DOGS own race. Gentlemen's big, well-bred dogs looked down on him, while he simply hated ladies' dogs, himself de- clining any acquaintance with them. But he had one chum, another boy's dog, that he was really fond of. He lived in another ward, and went to school there with his boy, and his boy named him Terror, which was shortened to Terry for every-day use. And Terry, a black, long-legged, long-nosed freak of a bulldog, was Little Man Friday's closest friend, and they often met at a German restaurant. They both were sober dogs, but this shop was midway between the two schools, and therefore convenient for both; and they could retire into the back yard and crawl under a grind- stone, and, in its cool shadow, discuss everything. But never, never, even in Terry's company, did Little Man Friday fail to keep " tab " on the flying moments. Never once did the yell of the first boy out of school fail to be answered by the shrill ki-yi, ki-yi! of Little Friday Ames, who was outside the school-yard gate, ready for duty — for leaps over clasped hands, races, tearing imagi- nary game from the unwilling earth, or to fight any- thing he was " sicked " at. One day I heard the rattle of gravel flung from flying feet, and saw Man Friday tear around the house, up the porch steps, and into the kitchen, where he flung himself against Mrs. Ames with yelps such as I had never heard LITTLE MAN FRIDAY 39 from him before; he seemed literally wild with excite- ment and fear — his eyes so widely strained that they showed the bloodshot whites, his body shivering, froth about his jaws! Mrs. Ames rushed toward the door, crying out : " He 's mad — as sure 's you 're alive, he is ! " But I had risen, and, looking beyond Man Friday into space, an awful thought came to me : " The children I " Friday gave another bound against her, then rushed out to the head of the steps. Looking back and seeing that he was not followed, he sat down suddenly, lifted his muzzle, and gave forth a long howl. " Mercy me ! " Mrs. Ames exclaimed, " the dog 's alone ! " and then she called loudly : " Harry ! Harry ! Susie ! Sue ! " At these names Little Friday sprang down the steps and, barking furiously, rushed to the gate. Mrs. Ames staggered, and for one moment put her hand out and clung to the door, when Man Friday returned, caught her apron in his teeth, and, running backward, pulled her to the porch. The next moment she and I rushed out, and the pass- ers-by saw two terrified women apparently playing tag with a common yellow dog in the public street ; but then, appearances are very deceptive things sometimes. We had not far to go, only to the next corner, and there Little Friday, after looking back to see if we fol- 40 BRAVE DOGS lowed, turned the corner. My brain was working fast. Where were the children likely to go in that street to play? Mr. Brown's private stable? — there was a pony there! No; Friday had passed Mr. Brown's house. To the lot where there was a house being built? Nothing could happen there; the men would see to that. The men? The men f Had I not heard that work had been stopped there for some days? Friday had turned in there, his spasmodic barkings telling mCj at least, that he was digging. A mass of fallen sand at the foot of a little cliff — at one end a crowd of small footprints all pointing the same way, telling plainly of a childish stam- pede, Sue's little hat on the ground, and devoted, frantic Man Friday digging like mad! — that was what we saw when we turned into the open lot. After that it seemed a sort of nightmare : the summon- ing of help, the digging, the cautions to be careful not to hurt the children with the shovels should they really be there, the prayers and sobs of Mrs. Ames; and through it all the panting breath of Little Man Friday digging, digging all the time! Then there was a cry from the mother. The dog had uncovered a bit of Sue's pink dress! Then, leaving her to stronger helpers, Fri- day turned away to win his final triumph ! Looking at the digging men, a sort of pitying contempt came into his face, his manner saying as plain as day : " Oh, those men! Why don't they put their noses to the sand and LITTLE MAN FRIDAY 41 find my boy's trail before they dig like this ? " And suit- ing the action to his thought, he nosed along the sand, and then suddenly began a fierce digging at a spot quite removed from the men, while he barked with all the strength he had left ! "Oh," I cried, "see Little Man Friday! You are in the wrong place — I am sure — Man Friday says so! " The men looked up at one another. Every moment told: an instant wasted might mean life or death! Yet the dog seemed so sure he was on the right track that Little Man Friday was accepted at once as their guide, master workman, and boss ; and where he led they found. Presently the rescued children lay upon the ground, their nearly suffocated little faces turned upward to the blessed light and air, while, whimpering and shivering, Man Friday ran from one to the other, noisily barking his song of joy at their rescue. When restoratives had been applied and the children removed to their home and put to bed, Harry called rather weakly : " Friday ! Friday ! " and at that call poor Friday simply lost his wits. He howled, he leaped, he barked, he chased his own tail round and round until he fell over, a helpless heap of joy! As we sat at dinner that day, Mrs. Ames said in her determined manner : " James, I want a piece of the breast of that chicken, 42 BRAVE DOGS and plenty of gravy, too. And what is more, please put it on that gilt-edged plate." And then she rose with her grimmest air, and, walking to the kitchen, she placed the plate before the surprised dog — who up to that time had eaten from a tin pie-pan — and remarked: " The best I have is what you '11 get, little man, the rest of your days ! " and she stroked him kindly. The china plate worried Friday a bit, — it was so fine, — so he carried all the pieces of chicken ofT and ate them from the zinc under the stove, and afterward attended rather gingerly to the gravy — which was really too good to be left ; then, earnestly wishing to show his apprecia- tion of her kindness, he went to the cellar for a while, and by and by came into the sitting-room, dirty, panting, and happy, and laid at her feet a large rat. But even that — though it frightened her into shrieks — could not shake Mrs. Ames's new-found liking for the devoted dog, whose intelligence and love had saved to her her two children. "I HEAR THE BARKING OF LEO" BY R. W. GILDER OVER the roofs of the houses I hear the barking of Leo, — Leo the shaggy, the lustrous, the giant, the gentle i Newfoundland. Dark are his eyes as the night, and black is his hair as the midnight ; Large and slow is his tread till he sees his master returning, Then how he leaps in the air, with motion ponderous, frightening ! Now as I pass to my work I hear o'er the roar of the city, Far over the roofs of the houses, I hear the barking of Leo ; For me he is moaning and crying, for me in measure sonorous He raises his marvelous voice, for me he is wailing and calling. None can assuage his grief, though but for a day is the parting, Though morn after morn 't is the same, though home every night comes his master. Still will he grieve when we sever, and wild will be his rejoicing When at night his master returns and lays but a hand on his forehead. No lack will there be in the world, of faith, of love, and devotion. No lack for me and for mine, while Leo alone is living, — While over the roofs of the houses I hear the barking of Leo. 3 45 HOW PAUL CALLED OFF THE DOG BY LAVINIA S. GOODWIN ON the margins of the beautiful winding streams and rivers of France washerwomen may often be seen at their work, presenting, under the leafy shade of the grand old trees, a very picturesque effect. No doubt you have seen pictures of these washing-places. They are furnished with a row of shallow, three-sided boxes, open toward the shore, and with the back resting on posts set in the water. Just below the surface of the water a smooth board slants downward, and the washer- woman, kneeling in the box, holds her piece of washing upon this slanting board with her left hand, while in her right she grasps a kind of paddle, with which she beats the linen, turning it again and again, until with the beating and the force of the running water it becomes entirely clean and white. One summer day, many years ago, a washerwoman who was too fond a mother to leave her baby in any one else's care, brought it with her, and while at work placed the child in the box where she was half kneeling, half sit- ting at her washing, and where she could occasionally 46 HOW PAUL CALLED OFF THE DOG 47 bend down to fondle her darling baby. Suddenly, and without any warning, the child sprang from the mother's lap and slipped over the side of the washing-box into the bubbling river. The mother's shriek was echoed by the startled cries of the other washerwomen as the child was borne off by the current ; and the poor mother was with difficulty restrained from leaping in after her child. At that moment, some one watching the tiny form perceived a dark object making its way from shore straight toward the drowning baby, still kept afloat by its clothing. " A dog — it is a dog ! " they cried. " See ! he is swim- ming for the baby ! " The few seconds of suspense that followed seemed al- most like hours. Then the watchers embraced the ag- onized mother with words of cheer. " He has her by her frock! " they cried. " See how he keeps the darling's head above the water! She is saved — yes, nearly saved ! " For a moment the noble animal buffeted with the strong current, and then struck out bravely — but for the opposite shore. Then a new fear assailed the watchers, for that opposite shore was solitary and uninhabited; there were reports every season of prowling wolves that were seen there. What if this great creature were no dog, but a ferocious wolf, that had saved the child only to devour it ? And the dismayed women stepped before 48 BRAVE DOGS the weeping mother, so that she might not see the other shore. The four-footed swimmer reached the land; he laid the rescued child on the ground, shook the water from his heavy coat, and then — calmly stretched himself pant- ing and watchful by the silent form. A cry of relief came from the watchers, and with swift feet they hurried to the ferryman's hut, not far up the stream. They found the old ferryman sitting in his boat, mending a rowlock, and chatting with his nine-year-old grandson, little Paul Dericker, who was on a visit to his grandfather from his home near Peaolo, on the Rhine. As soon as he heard the story, the ferryman untied his boat and c[uickly landed the excited washerwomen on the opposite bank. First to spring ashore, little Paul darted to the spot where the baby lay, but was speedily back with the information that the child was alive, for he had seen it move its arms and kick up its little feet, but that the dog would not let him come near. Here was a dilemma. The dog guarded his prize de- terminedly, rolling a pair of fiery eyeballs and snarling savagely at the intruders when they attempted to ap- proach. In the intervals, he would lick the face and hands of the infant, now cooing contentedly, and would give it the most affectionate attention. But let one of the party advance a step, and it was the signal for him HOW PAUL CALLED OFF THE DOG 49 to turn on them and drive them back. No coaxing had the least effect ; and when one of the women, remember- ing a lunch of bread and meat in her pocket, tried to win him with food, he scorned to look at it. Losing patience, the ferryman provided himself with a club, and thought to try what a show of force could do. This merely en- raged the dog, who was more than a match even for an armed man. Very much in earnest, then, Paul's grand- father sent the boy to bring from the boat his duck gun, declaring that the dog must be shot. Away flew Paul, while the women set up such a lamen- tation because of the necessity of killing the dog that had saved the baby from drowning, that the ferryman made them go some distance away, lest the dog, if only wounded, should spring upon them indiscriminately, at a time when he would have all he could do to defend him- self. But the gun, too, was a failure. It was evident the dog understood a gun, but supposed they intended to shoot the child ; for he protected its body so closely with his own that to fire at one would be to fire at both. Com- pletely baffled, the old man threw the weapon on the ground. " Hold, grandpa ! " cried Paul, at his elbow. " I know what I can do ! " And the swift feet were off toward the ferry once more. " He is going to try a lasso on the beast— the way he so BRAVE DOGS caught the pig that broke out of the pen yesterday," said grandfather to himself ; and then he shouted, but too late to be heard, " Don't take the rope that ties the boat, Paul ! Don't let the boat loose ! " The women, waiting in terror for the report of the musket, saw Paul run past, and thought of him no more until three minutes later, when a cry for help attracted their attention, and Paul was seen to fall headlong over the boat's stern into the deep water. As he rose to the surface he grasped the rudder with one hand, but long before help could arrive his hold slipped and he disap- peared. The old man, running as fast as his stiff limbs could carry him, reached the boat at the same time as the women; but he was less frightened than they. " Why — that chap can swim— like a duck," were his words, as he caught his breath. " He drowning? I would n't — would n't have believed it ! " " He was frightened by the accident," some one re- marked, while the old man worked at a disadvantage in getting off the boat, as he kept his eyes tvirned on the water. " There! away yonder! so far down— oh! " came the cries from the shore, as the women, shielding their eyes from the sun with their hands, caught sight of the lad's head and shoulders above the surface, nearly opposite the point where the child had been landed. All felt that he HOW PAUL CALLED OFF THE DOG 51 was drowning, but none dared say so to the fond old grandfather. In the same breath Paul gave one last, long, piercing cry, and sank gradually amid the curling waves. That call had an instant effect. True to his life-saving instincts, the great dog leaped into the river again, and swimming to the boy, drew him, a heavier burden than the baby, slowly ashore at the spot where the baby had lain. But the baby lay there no longer; for its mother, whom the shriek of distress had also aroused, had snatched it up as the dog left it, and borne it away in joy and triumph. And as soon as Paul was on land, he stood up and hailed the boat, swinging his arms and shouting : " All right, grandpa. Carry over the women-folks, and when I 'm ready presently, I '11 walk across." He broke into a laugh that startled the echoes, the merriest laugh, those who heard it said, that ever fell on their ears. " The young rascal," cried his grandfather, gaily, while a tear of gratitude stole down his bronzed cheek, " to frighten and fool us so ! " " But how fine for him to have fooled the dog ! " said the women. The dog did not appear to take the loss of his former prize to heart, as he had now secured a larger and better. In a little while the boat was seen approaching. Paul 52 BRAVE DOGS stood up on his feet, patting the rather astonished dog upon the head, and the pair trotted along shore to meet the ferryman. " We were just going to swim across for sport — can't we, grandpa ? " cried Paul. But his grandfather thought there had been enough of that kind of sport for one day, and so the boy and his new playmate crossed in the boat. Some hours later a sportsman fully equipped appeared at the ferry, inquiring fdr a dog answering the descrip- tion of the one that now, hearing his master's voice, came rushing out of the ferryman's cottage. Both were glad to meet again, and the sportsman, when he heard the story, expressed his delight that his noble runaway had so well employed his time. PEDRO BY WM. M. F. ROUND PEDRO is a dog, to begin with; so if any reader thinks this story is to be about an emperor, or even a Portuguese grandee, and wishes to read that kind of a story, and is n't willing to read just an every-day kind of a dog story, he had better pass by this article alto- gether. Pedro began life under difficulties. His mother did not move in good society. It may have been on account of her color, for she was very black. It may have been on account of her education, for she had n't any worth speaking of. Pedro was born in a barn ; that was against him. And it was a rag-dealer's barn at that, and his first bed was a pile of very smelly rags, and his mother had five other little dogs of exactly his age to look after. Pedro opened his eyes one morning and looked about him and saw a big boy with a basket and six stones in it. The boy took a stone and began tying it to Pedro's neck with a piece of cord. He did the same thing to all of 5S 56 BRAVE DOGS Pedro's brothers and sisters. Did Pedro think it strange? Not a bit of it— he was so young and ignorant that he thought that was what boys and stones and cords were for. But Pedro's mother, poor thing, she knew what it all meant. She knew that of all the diseases incident to puppyhood, boys and stones, complicated with cords, was the most fatal. Pedro's mother had lost seventeen of her darlings in a similar way. The boy took the basket to a bridge, and, lifting the puppies one by one, sent them over the parapet — down — down to an anchorage at the bottom of the river. Pedro did n't like it. It made him dizzy going down ; the weight of the stone made the cord cut his neck, and the water was cold. He went straight to the bottom, and would have drowned there like the rest if the cord had been stronger. But the cord broke. Pedro found out that he could swim — and he made for the shore. He was very cold, very wet, very much discouraged. He did not like to go back where that speckled-faced boy was ; besides, he did n't know the way. So he made up his mind that he would set up for a tramp — and started at once on his travels. He was a little fellow, but he grew— grew in spite of the kicks and cuffs that he met, in spite of the stonings that bad boys gave him, in spite of being only half fed; grew to be a big, black, shaggy dog, with a kind eye, and one of the most friendly and wagiferous tails I ever PEDRO 57 knew. And couldn't he swim? He just plowed right along in the water, steering himself with his shaggy tail, and winking and blinking at the waves, that in the sun- light winked and blinked at him. But he had no home— poor dog. He slept in the by- ways and hedges, and dropped in at wagon-sheds and crept under roadside carts, and sometimes he had to sleep in the great broad fields among the clover and the daisies. He wanted a home badly enough — every dog does. But nobody would take him in. He used to get driven off of premises with sticks and whips and stones. Nobody seemed to want him, and he would have looked upon this world as a very hard world on dogs had he not seen, now and then, some boys and girls that were treated quite as badly as he was. So things went on for two years. It was the close of summer. The goldenrod had begun to blossom on the roadsides, and Pedro knew that frost would be along ere many weeks. He was in a seaside town, for he loved the ocean, and he sat down on the beach to think himself over. He was getting almost miserable, when a gentleman passed by who seemed so well fed, so well contented with himself and the world, and so happy, that Pedro really cheered up, and wished that he had such a man for a master; and when a little behind him came a well- 58 BRAVE DOGS combed, well-kept little blue Skye terrier, whom this gen- tleman spoke gently to, even tenderly, Pedro yearned to get up and adopt the gentleman for a master at once. But he hardly dared to do it. He knew that that little blue Skye terrier would fiercely resent such a familiar proceeding. Perhaps, however, the gentleman might be willing to give him just a second-hand bone, and a far-off corner of a stable to sleep in for a night or two. So he rose up, and followed the gentleman and the blue Skye terrier at a little distance. Once the blue Skye caught sight of him, and turned and gave him a fierce look, as if surmising Jiis intentions, and then curled up his aristo- cratic little black nose and trotted on, as if, after all, such a matter was quite beneath his notice. The gentleman at last walked home, and Pedro stood at the garden gate and saw them go in. They had such a welcome, especially the little blue Skye terrier! Two pretty children came out to meet him ; one was a boy of ten years or so, and the other a young lady of fifteen. The young lady caught up the terrier and embraced him, and even kissed him, and talked softly to him, and car- ried him off at last into the house, where a saucer of milk and dainty bits of cold chicken were waiting. That Pedro knew, for he heard the little boy tell him so much. "My!" said Pedro, "if they give him chicken and milk, they surely can't grudge me a bone," — and so say- PEDRO 59 ing, he pushed open a gate and trotted straight across an elegant flower-bed, and round the house to the kitchen door. There was a bone, to be sure, and a very meaty bone, too. Of course the Httle dog inside would n't want it, and of course nobody would object to his having it— it was evident that it had been thrown away ; and so Pe- dro first sniffed at it, by way of whetting his appetite, and then fell to and began to gnaw blissfully; it was about as good a bone as Pedro had ever had. He had almost forgotten his misery, and was beginning to feel that the world wasn't such a bad world after all, when the kitchen door was flung open by a red-faced Irish cook, who bounced out with a pan of dirty water and flung it into Pedro's face and eyes, saying angrily, as she did so : " Go 'long wid ye, yer great black feller of a dawg. You 're a thavin' baste to come eatin' poor Blitzen's bone. Get out wid ye ! " and she seized a broomstick and flew at Pedro like a fury. Pedro was surprised; he hung his tail with mortifica- tion and shame, and turned to leave, when out flew Blit- zen, barking and yelling, and seized him by the heels. Pedro might have shaken the life out of Blitzen in a min- ute, but he always prided himself upon never turning upon a dog smaller than himself. He only started to run, with Blitzen at his heels. He had nearly reached the 6o BRAVE DOGS gate, when out rushed the benign gentleman, with a thick cane, and said : " Oh, you low-bred mongrel cur, I '11 teach you to run across my flower-beds ! How came you out of the pound, you miserable scamp ? " and coming up to Pedro, he dealt him such a succession of blows as made him stagger, and left him half blind with pain. At last Pedro reached the gate, which fortunately had been left open, and darting into the street, he freed him- self from the yelping Blitzen and ran as hard as he could toward the beach. He had a very bitter feeling in his heart. He was not conscious of having done any harm, and yet everybody and everything had turned against him. Surely it was a hard world. He lay down on the beach and began looking himself over. He was bruised from the tip of his nose to the tip of his tail. One of his eyes was half closed. His heel was smarting where Blitzen had bitten him, and he was dripping with the cook's dirty water. He had n't energy enough to wash himself and dress his wounds. He just lay there and moaned. What was he, anyway? An outcast from puppyhood, homeless, hungry, all his bro- thers and sisters drowned, and everybody, dog and man, beating him. He wondered how long it would take him to lie there and die. He made up his mind that he would never move on; one place was as good as another. 'get out wid ye!'" 62 BRAVE DOGS It got to be afternoon, and, as the tide was high, people came out to bathe. Presently he saw the boy and the young lady from the house where he had been so badly treated. They had Blitzen with them, and a servant who brought towels and bathing-suits and a silk cushion. The first thing they all did was to see that Blitzen had his bath. How carefully they bathed him, and then dried him on fine towels ! And then the servant put down the cushion in a warm nook, and, spreading a soft towel over it, put Blitzen down for a nap. Then the children prepared to bathe. They came out of the bath-house all dressed for the sea, and a very lovely couple they looked as they dimpled the smooth sand of the beach with their pretty pink feet. They plunged into the surf, and had a glorious time of it. The boy could swim, and he was trying to teach his sister. Pedro almost enjoyed seeing them, in spite of himself. They had been in quite a good while, when the servant called them to come out. " All right," shouted the boy; " Florence may go out, and I '11 take one more swim and then I '11 come." So he turned his face toward the horizon and struck out boldly, and made glorious headway against the waves. He was pretty far out, when there was a cry, he threw up his hands, and the golden head disappeared beneath the waves. Pedro was on his feet in a moment, and had run half- PEDRO 63 way down the beach. The boy was drowning. He had heard that same kind of a cry once before. He would plunge in and save the boy. That was his first thought. Then he stopped. " No," he said ; " I '11 have my re- venge. That boy's father ill-treated me — his dog bit me ; let the little cur save him — it is no business of mine " ; and he turned to go up the beach again. " Help ! help ! " came from the water. The sister heard it, and ran ovit of the bathing-house, followed by the ser- vant. They screamed, too, for help, but no help was at hand. The pretty sunny head came in sight once more, and was gone. The women wrung their hands in agony. Pedro could not stand it. He turned, plunged down the beach, in through the surf, out on the rising and falling- waves, battling them furiously as he swam. Now there are two heads side by side — a black, shaggy head, a sunny head and a pale face. There is no cry now ; the poor little blanched lips are too weak for that. Pedro gives a little moan of desperation, seizes the bathing- jacket by the neck, and turns. Will he have strength to get this heavy weight to the shore ? He feels his strength is going fast. The father has heard the cry of his daugh- ter, and is flying to the beach. Blitzen has waked and stands staring, wondering what it all means. One wave nearer shore, now on the crest of another, now in the surf, now on the white beach ! Pedro drags 64 BRAVE DOGS the boy up on the sand, and Hes down beside him. He is almost exhausted. They don't drive him away now. Perhaps they hardly notice him in this awful moment. They are working over the boy. Oh, the blanched face of the father, and the tearful face of the sister! The servant has run for blankets. They are rubbing the child and trying to detect some signs of life. Now the mother comes. She sees her boy lying there stiff and pale, and gives a quick cry of pain, and then stoops over him and puts her hand anxiously on his heart. Yes — yes— it beats, but so feebly! In a minute it may stop. She clasps the little hands and prays— oh, how she prays ! Yes, he's alive; he's opening his eyes! Pedro is rested a little, and comes and looks on while they wrap the boy in a blanket, and then he says to himself: " Well, I can't do anything more. I guess I '11 be going "; and he goes and touches the little hand with his tongue to be sure there is some life there, and turns to go away. What is this we see? Yes; a strong man falling on this dog's neck and kissing his shaggy head, while the great tears roll down his cheeks; a pair of fair young arms thrown about poor Pedro's black and dripping body, while a rare pale face buries itself in his shaggy fur and weeps for joy. Pedro is an outcast no longer! The sunshine is coming in upon his life now. It came a'iYaSM ' 66 BRAVE DOGS through his doing a simple duty, just as most sunshine comes. Pedro has a home now. No bed is too soft for him, no food too choice ! He might ha.ve the whole roast off the table any day he chose to ask for it. He wears a silver collar, and he sleeps in the family sitting-room, and they pet him, and talk to him, and sometimes the gentleman whom he followed that morning will lay his hand on his head, and tears will fall on the black fur, and the dog will hear him say, in a voice that trembles a good deal : " God bless our Pedro, that saved my boy ! " '^^^! GUESS WHICH HAND IT S IN AND YOU SHALL HAVE IT,' A SNOW-KING BY FRANK R. STOCKTON CASPER was his name. He lived on a very high mountain — so high that his home was almost in the region of eternal snow. Indeed, he could almost al- ways find snow six or seven feet deep without going very far from the door. But Casper did not care partic- ularly for such snow. He was used to it. It was only when the great snows came, and the snow- drifts piled up forty feet high against the walls of the old house, and the snowflakes fell, and fell, and fell, as if they would never stop until they had filled up all the valleys with their powdery whiteness, that Casper felt at all anxious about the depth of snow. At such times, however, he was very apt to put him- self to a great deal of trouble and anxiety about the snow. He didn't mind snow-storms himself, because he was a snow-king; but there were people who did mind them, and it was about these people that he concerned himself. Casper was a dog, and he lived with the monks in the monastery of St. Bernard, far up on the Alps— the very highest dwelling in that great range of mountains. 69 70 BRAVE DOGS You have all heard of these great St. Bernard dogs; but if you have never seen Casper, you can have no idea how grand a dog can be — that is, if he happen to be a snow-king. And Casper was a king of the snow, every inch of him. One day it began to snow, early in the morning, up on the mountains. It did not snow very hard at first, but people who were weather-wise thought that there would be quite a storm after a while. As the day wore on it became colder and colder, and the wind began to freeze the snowflakes into little icy lumps, and it hurled them like showers of bullets across the valleys and over the mountain-peaks. Although the wind roared sometimes around the craggy corners, and showers of icy shot would now and then rattle against some frozen crust of snow, the moun- tains seemed quiet, and certainly they were desolate. Up on the mountain-sides lay vast masses of snow and ice that were growing heavier and heavier as the snow fell faster and faster. These were all ready to come thundering and crashing down into the valleys below, and seemed only waiting for the signal to begin their mad rush down the mountain-side. For when these great masses of snow and ice are piled up in this way in the Alps, it often requires but a very little thing to start them off. Sometimes but a loud A SNOW-KING 71 word, or the breaking of a stick, or a heavy footstep, will jar the air or the snow sufficiently to send an avalanche on its way. It would hardly be supposed that on such a day as this any one would be out of doors ; but, notwithstanding the bad weather and the promise of worse weather to come, on that afternoon there were five persons toiling up the road toward the monastery. Four of these were men, and one was a boy about four- teen years old. His name was Paolo Vannatti, and he lived down the motmtain-side, some miles below the place where we find him this snowy afternoon. For a day or two Paolo had been very anxious about the fate of a stray goat which he believed could be found up the mountain, and probably at or near the monastery of St. Bernard. So, when that afternoon four men stopped at Paolo's home to rest a little before continu- ing their journey over the Alps, by way of the St. Ber- nard Pass, the boy determined to go with them, at least as far as the monastery. He did not say anything to his parents about his plan, for he had heard his father tell the men that it would be foolhardy to attempt to cross the mountains that day, when it was not only snowing, but the wind was blowing at such a terrific rate that it would be certain to start an avalanche somewhere on the road. Bureau Nature Stuc/v, A SNOW-KING 73 " And you know well enough that it does n't need much of a wind to start an avalanche," said Paolo's mother. " But the wind 's been blowing all the morning and half the night," said one of the men ; " and if there were any avalanches to start, they would have been on their way before this ! " So the four men started off just after dinner, and Paolo slipped out after them and joined them when they had got out of sight of the house. One of the men wanted to make him go back, but the others said that he might as well come if he chose — it was n't snowing so very hard, and if he wanted to find his goat as much as he said he did, there was no reason why he should not try to do it. So they all trudged on, and nothing of any importance happened for an hour. They did not have much difficulty in making their way, for the snow-storm seemed to be decreasing, and the wind was certainly going down. But all of a sudden something very astonishing happened. A violent gust of wind seemed to leap from around the corner of a tall mass of rocks and crags, and in its arms it carried a vast cloud of snow, which it raised in the air and hurled down upon our travelers, who were instantly buried from sight. 74 BRAVE DOGS This was one of the terrible whirlwinds which often occur in the Alps, when great volumes of newly fallen snow are carried through the air and thrown here or there in masses many feet in depth. It was as sudden as a flash of lightning— one moment Paolo was walking cheerfully along the road, and in the next he was buried deep under an immense heap of snow! For a moment he did not know what had happened — it seemed as if he had been struck blind. He was not hurt, but the world had suddenly disappeared from his sight. It was not long, however, before he knew what had happened. There was snow above and below him — snow in his eyes, snow in his ears and nose and mouth. He could not get up because there was snow on top of him, and, when he tried to get his legs under him, he could find no support for his feet, for there was nothing but soft snow beneath him. He could breathe, but that was about all he could do. Paolo soon felt himself sinking lower and lower in the soft snow. He tried again to get his feet straight down under him, and this time they touched something hard. He knew that he stood on the ground. He had no idea how much snow was piled up over him, nor did he think much about it. Now that he could get A SNOW-KING 75 his feet on something firm, all that he Ihought of was to push or scratch himself out of that bed of snow just as fast as he could. He thrust his feet against the ground ; he leaned forward and scratched and dug with his hands and arms like a little terrier after a rat. He kicked and rolled and pushed and dug and sputtered snow out of his mouth, and so scratched his way along for several yards. Then he suddenly stumbled out into the open air and went plump down a precipice. He did not know how far he fell, but he knew that he went back foremost into a bed of snow with a crust on it, through which he broke with a gentle crunch, as when you throw a stone through a pane of glass. The snow under the crust was not very hard, and his fall only jarred him a little. And yet the snow was packed hard enough to give him a chance to crawl out of the hole he had made and to look about him. He found that he was on an old bed of snow that lay on a ledge some twenty feet below the road, and from which the fresh snow had been blown. The mass of snow which had overwhelmed him and his companions he could see piled on the road above him. If another gust of wind should come around that corner it might be blown down upon him and cover him again. So he hurriedly scrambled to his feet and tried to get away from under that steep precipice with its great cap 76 BRAVE DOGS of snow. But he could not go very far. The crust broke beneath him very often; there were hollow places filled with new snow, through which he could scarcely push his way; it was snowing faster and faster, and he was very cold. He could not climb up to the road, and if he could have done so there was that great mass of snow out of which he had been so glad to get. He did not know what to do ; so he sat down. Then he drew up his knees and tried to get warm and to think. He could not get warm, but he could think very easily. He thought about his parents, and what a wretch he was to come away from them as he had done. What was a goat, after all, that he should risk his life for it? And yet he did n't know, when he started, that he was risking his life — though that was no matter now, for he had done it, and there was no going back. Here he was, alone in the midst of the great Alps. It was dreadfully solemn and cold. The air was full of the smell of snow. Snow beneath him and all around him; above him, too, for it was falling on him until he looked like a little snow-boy as he sat there drawn up in a bunch. He did not expect any help now. He knew the Alps too well to suppose, even if his companions had suc- ceeded in getting out of that snow-drift, that they could find him where he was. He could n't shout. His lips and tongue seemed frozen stiflf. He could not see very far. A SNOW-KING 77 He began to feel a little warmer now, and drowsy. He knew that if he went to sleep he would never wake again. But he did n't care ; he might as well be comforta- ble. And there was nobody on earth who could save him. If anybody came to him there, they would die too. The best thing he could do would be to go to sleep. In all the whole world there was no one who could save this poor boy — that is, if you did not count in Cas- per, the snow-king. He could do it. And he did do it ! Right through the snow-storm came that great beast. Rushing over the frozen crust, plunging through the deep places, bounding, leaping, caring not for drift or storm, like a snow-king, as he was, came Casper ! He made one dash at Paolo, and rolled him over in the snow. Then he barked at him as much as to say : " Wake up, you foolish boy ! Don't you know I 'm here? It 's all right now." He pushed Paolo first on one side and then on the other, and when he had made him open his eyes and stare about him, the great Casper barked again in his loudest, freest tones. A snow-storm didn't interfere with his voice. Again and again he barked, as if he were shouting, "Hello-o! I 've found him ! Here he is!" Casper had not barked very long before two men came 78 BRAVE DOGS toiling through the storm. One was a St. Bernard monk, and the other was one of the men with whom Paolo had started out in the morning. These two took the boy by the arms and raised him up. They shook him, and they made him drink a little brandy that the monk had with him, and then they led him away between them. Casper went ahead, so that it should be all right. They walked back with great difficulty by the way they had come, and soon reached a place where the road could be regained, at a point some distance beyond the snow-drift. Then they pressed on to the monastery. The four men had been overwhelmed by the snow- drift, but as they were considerably in advance of Paolo, the greater part of the mass of fresh snow seemed to pass over them and hurl itself on the boy. After some struggling the men got out of the deep snow. They missed the boy, but could not tell how to look for him or save him. If they stopped they were afraid they would perish themselves. So they hurried on, and before they had gone very far' they met Casper and two of the St. Bernard monks. They told their story, and one of the monks, with the dog, started down the mountain. He thought the boy might be saved. The youngest of the four men thought he would go too. It was a shame to desert the poor boy so. A SNOW -KING 79 As they hurried along, the man said : " If the snow-drift is still there we shall never be able to get around it or into it to find the boy." " Casper will attend to that," said the monk. He believed in Casper. And when the dog reached the snow-drift he did not try to go through it. He had more sense than that. He stopped; he seemed to be considering the matter. Then he turned around and ran back. The monk and the other man waited to see what he would do. When Casper reached a place where the bank was low, he leaped down from the road, and kept on down the moun- tain. His idea was to go around the snow-drift. Sud- denly he stopped and glared through the falling snow- flakes that were whirled this way and that way by the wind. He saw something. The men, who were following at a distance, could only see a little way through the storm. Then, with a sudden bark, Casper rushed over the frozen crusts and plunged through the deep places, bounding and leaping, caring not for drift or storm, until he found the boy ! For he was a snow-king. CUPID AND THE MUTINEERS' BY MARY J. SAFFORD JUMP, Cupid, jump ! " cried a man's harsh voice. "Higher, filoii, higher, I say! See how Pistache and Monsieur are pirouetting yonder, and Mimi is whirl- ing around hke a top. Bah, stupid one, thou 'rt not worth thy salt ! Thou 'It never make a dancer. Ah, thou dunce ! Another bad step ! " he exclaimed, rolling the r with the burr that only a Frenchman's tongue can give. It was a bright summer morning, nearly three quar- ters of a century ago. The animal our showman so wrathfully berated was a pretty white French poodle. It was dancing wearily to the sound of a fiddle, upon a platform covered with spangled red velvet, which had been erected in the main street of the gay French sea- port of Bordeaux. His companions, five or six other dogs arrayed in costumes of brilliant hues, kept time alertly to the shrill notes squeaked by their master's old violin; but poor Cupid, with drooping head, and tail tucked forlornly between his legs, looked the very image 1 The facts related in this story are literally true. 80 CUPID AND THE MUTINEERS 8i of shame, and constantly sidled toward the edge of the improvised stage, as if seeking an opportunity to escape. But the Frenchman's keen eye never left the dog, and his angry shouts and orders kept up a monotonous ac- companiment to the ear-splitting music. A tall, handsome man, with the rolling gait peculiar to sailors, came strolling down the street just as the showman, out of patience, struck the poodle sharply with his bow, shouting, " Jump, Cupid ! Jump, I say, or thou 'It get naught but blows for thy supper." The stranger who was passing, — the captain of an American vessel lying in the port, — attracted by the angry voice and the poor animal's piteous appearance, stopped beside the gaudy little stage. " I declare ! " he exclaimed, " the dog 's half a Chris- tian ; he knows enough to be ashamed of his business. I don't blame him." " He 's a regular good-for-nothing, monsieur ! " cried the showman. " A pretty fellow, as you see, and clever, too— no doubt of that; but he 's of no use to me. He '11 never make a dancer ; I 've worked hard for three months to train him, but 'twas mere waste of time. Look at him now, with his tail between his legs, trying to sneak away. He 's more trouble than all the rest put together. He 's not worth feeding. Bah, vilain Cupid ! " " What will you take for him ? " asked the captain, sud- 82 BRAVE DOGS denly. " If he 's so unpromising a pupil as you say, I suppose you won't be sorry to get rid of him? " " Ah ! monsieur wants to buy him ? Yes, a fine dog, a beautiful animal for a gentleman's pet, as monsieur sees," replied the showman, instantly ready to drive a sharp bargain. But, as he was really anxious to dispose of the poodle, which, despite the many good qualities suddenly discovered and vaunted by his owner, had evi- dently not been destined by nature to shine in his present profession, a price was soon fixed ; and Captain Percival, lifting the dog from the stage, said kindly, " There, poor fellow ! " and set him gently on the sidewalk. Then Cupid danced for joy — leaping into the air to lick his new master's hand, careering around and around him in circles, rolling over and over at his feet. The liberated animal barked and wagged his tail till it seemed as if he were really trying to jump out of his skin in his efforts to express his gratitude to the friend who had rescued him from misery. Captain Percival took Cupid to his ship. Soon after the poodle crossed the sea and ere long became a wel- come pet in his new master's home. But when the cap- tain sailed on his next voyage, the poor dog grieved so sadly, and greeted his return with so many frantic dem- onstrations of delight, that his kind-hearted owner, pat- ting the silky head, said that on his next trip — a long CUPID AND THE MUTINEERS 83 voyage to India— Cupid should certainly not be left behind. Well for the captain that he made the promise ! The passage was long and stormy, part of his crew sickened in Calcutta, and on reaching Lisbon he was short-handed and found himself obliged to fill the places of the missing men with Portuguese and Italian sailors— a desperate- looking crowd. Many vessels had lately stopped at the port to fill up their crews, able-bodied seamen were scarce, and on the last morning of his stay Captain Per- cival still lacked one man of his number. He was sitting in his cabin writing a letter, when a shadow fell across the page, and Cupid, who was lying at his feet, suddenly growled. Looking up, he saw a tall, powerful fellow with a low, beetling brow, black eyes, sleek, straight black hair, and a villainous expression of countenance. The sailor said that he wished to go to America, and, hearing that another man was wanted on board the ves- sel, he had come to ship for the voyage. The captain hesitated, but the Portuguese handed him recommenda- tions stating that the bearer was a strong fellow and a thorough seaman ; so, as the vessel only had to make the run across the Atlantic to Boston, Captain Percival finally decided, though with extreme reluctance, to take him. Cupid was a dog given to strong likes and dislikes. 84 BRAVE DOGS He seemed to share his master's unfavorable opinion of the new-comer, for he growled and showed his white teeth whenever Jose came near him ; but, like a wise ani- mal, he warily kept out of the sailor's way, and never gave him a chance to execute his oft-muttered threats of dire vengeance on " the captain's cur." The homeward voyage was a stormy one. Head winds and gales drove the vessel out of her course, and taxed the patience of crew and captain, keeping the latter con- stantly on deck, and making the men discontented be- cause of the extra labor entailed upon them. Jose, though outwardly perfectly respectful and even subser- vient to the captain and mates, was always ready, when out of their hearing, to complain of the hard work, to hint that the officers might make it easier if they cared for the comfort of their men. By every means in his power, as was afterward discovered, he endeavored to increase the dissatisfaction already prevailing among the motley crew. At last, when the ship was midway across the Atlantic, after several unusually tempestuous nights, the wind lulled toward evening, one day, and Captain Percival, leaving his ship in charge of the first mate, went down to his cabin to take the rest which he so sorely needed. Hardly had his head touched the pillow when he fell asleep. CUPID AND THE MUTINEERS 85 But almost immediately, as it seemed to the weary man, he was roused by Cupid's leaping on the berth. " Down, Cupid ! " he murmured sleepily, pushing the faithful dog away and settling himself to slumber again. But the animal roused him a second time. " Down, Cupid ! " he ordered sharply, and the poodle, with a low whine, crouched on the cabin floor. But the captain had scarcely closed his eyes before the dog was again at the side of the berth; and now his master was unable to quiet him. Surprised by the persistence of the usually docile ani- mal, the captain sat up and listened. All was still; he heard nothing but the wash of the water against the sides of the vessel as she plunged onward through the surging seas. Cupid ran to the table where the captain had put his pistols, and raising himself on his hind legs, seized one in his mouth, brought it to his master, and laid it at his feet. Just at that moment there was a faint sound overhead, as if men were scuffling on deck. Cupid growled fiercely, and ran toward the cabin door. His master hastily grasped his pistols and rushed up the cabin stairs, the dog following close at his heels. An in- stant more and he would have been too late. Just as he reached the deck, the mate, stunned by a violent blow, fell heavily, and two dark forms glided stealthily toward the stairs. There was no time to parley. Without a 86 BRAVE DOGS moment's pause, the captain fired at the foremost, and the dusky figure, reeHng forward, sank at his feet. It was the Portuguese, Jose. " Help, men, help ! " shouted the captain ; and at the sound of the familiar voice his own faithful sailors rallied around him ; the second mate joined them, and the mutineers, discouraged by their leader's death and the failure of the surprise they had planned, yielded after a short struggle. After this exploit, as may be imagined, never was dog more petted and praised than Cupid. Nor did his master ever again leave him behind when he made a voyage. The captain's tall, erect form, and the pretty snow-white poodle trotting by his side, became almost as well known in sunny Lisbon, bustling Havre, smoky Liverpool, and even fiery Calcutta, as in the streets of Boston. MY CHUM If I say " boo," he '11 scowl at you, And wrinkle up and growl ; But he won't bite a single mite, Unless you run and howl. THE GREYHOUND'S WARNING BY HEZEKIAH BUTTERWORTH OLD stories are now in fashion, and here is a Christ- mas story that was told to my grandmother by her grandmother, who heard it from an old lady once in attendance upon the royal family in the days of King Charles I. Charles I, you remember, founded a colony in this country in very early times, and in honor of his young and beautiful queen, Henrietta Maria, he called it Terra Marias, or Mary's-land. He gathered fifteen hundred or- phan children from the streets of London, and sent them to Maryland; and these settlers, in the long-forgotten Christmas days, loved to hear and recount the legends of the court of Charles ; and so this story came from a court lady who visited Maryland in early colonial times, and who, as I have said, told it to my grandmother's grand- mother. Hampton Court Palace, which is still in perfect pres- ervation, was a grand old English manor in days that are dim in history. Here Charles I and his beautiful girl- queen passed their honeymoon. Marriages for love are 8q 90 BRAVE DOGS not common in old royal families, but Charles had loved Henrietta Maria ever since he had seen her young face at a splendid reception at the court of France, and when his ministers failed to arrange a marriage for him, he let his heart speak for itself, and offered his hand to the princess whose beauty had first enchanted him. So Henrietta was married to him in France while he was yet in England, a queer old way of doing things that royal families used to practise. It was called marrying by proxy. The wedding took place one fair spring day in the grand old cathedral of Notre Dame, which was hung with rich tapestry and tissues of gold and violet satin, figured with golden lilies or fleurs-de-lis. Henri- etta at this time was about fifteen years of age, so she was hardly more than a little girl when Charles first fell in love with her. We cannot stop to tell you of the gala days that fol- lowed the marriage, or the gay ship that bore the girl- queen over to England, to meet the king she had wedded. The pageants faded as she drew near to London, for the plague was in the city and bells clanged and tolled every minute of the day. But the gay Duke of Buckingham made a splendid banquet for the royal pair at his resi- dence at Burleigh-on-the-Hill, and it was on this occa- sion that Jeffery Hudson, the famous dwarf of Charles's court, was first presented to the queen, being served in THE GREYHOUND'S WARNING 91 a large pie on the table. When the pie was cut, Jeffery jumped out, armed cap-a-pie. But the honeymoon went by, and the best days of the king's life passed, and the storm of the English Revolu- tion began to gather. There were riots in London, and long and angry Parliaments, and the queen fled away for safety, and the king found himself a prisoner at last in Hampton Court Palace, where the happy days of his honeymoon had passed, when life lay fair before him. Two of his children were with him much of the time in these perilous days — the Princess Elizabeth and the young Duke of Gloucester. They were his hand-in-hand companions in his walks in Paradise, as the Hampton Court Palace gardens were called. The Princess Eliza- beth was her father's favorite, a tender-hearted, fair- haired child, frail as a flower, her pure soul shining through her pale face like a lamp through a vase of ala- baster. It was to her, as he took her on his knee, that the king confided his last messages to the queen before his execution. " Tell her, sweetheart," he said, " I loved her to the last." The Duke of Gloucester was younger than the prin- cess, but older in heroic appearance and larger in stature, for Elizabeth was a wee, frail thing. The king had a favorite hound. It was always with him when he was alone or with his children ; it guarded 92 BRAVE DOGS the door of his chamber at night ; its only delight seemed to be to do the bidding of his royal master, and to receive his caresses. Charles was one day amusing himself with his chil- dren in the Hampton Court garden, when a wild-looking woman drew near, and, holding out a thin hand, said : "Alms?" She was a strange fright of a creature, and the chil- dren thoughtlessly laughed at her, which sent the blood tingling into the furrows of her cheek. " Who are you ? " asked the king. " They call me a gipsy," answered the woman, assum- ing a mysterious look. " I foretell events." The king was not overawed by her air of mystery, but told her that she must at once leave the place. She moved away darkly and sullenly, when the chil- dren uttered an audible laugh. She caught the sound, and turned sharply. The king was caressing the hound. The fact that a brute was faring better than she seemed to increase her bitter feeling. " He can play now," she said, looking enviously to- ward the dog. " Let him. A dog will howl one day, and then the kingdom will want for a king; then the king- dom will go." The king seemed to be disturbed by the evil prophecy. THE GREYHOUND'S WARNING 93 He addressed the strange woman in a softer tone, and offered her money. The black hnes faded partly out of her face, and she curtsied lower and said : " A dog will die in this palace one day ; then the king- dom shall be restored again." People were very prone to believe in omens, signs, and fortune-telling at this time, and the gipsy's words be- came known in the palace, and were treasured up to see if they would come to pass. The civil war grew more fierce; the king's life was threatened; the king began secretly to plan an escape from Hampton Court, and from this turbulent part of the kingdom. He was really a prisoner in his palace; old friends were everywhere turning against him, and he was sometimes made to feel that his only friend, ex- cept his children, was his faithful hound. "Poor thing, poor thing! he is faithful to me," said the king, one day. " But how can I be faithful? I may leave you one day, good fellow, and then a dog will howl. It is a pitiable case when a king cannot be true even to his dog." The hound seemed to understand the king's great trou- ble, and at such times would lick his master's hand, and would press his knee and whine, as though to break the reverie. 94 BRAVE DOGS It was toward the close of a dark afternoon on the I ith of November, 1647. Night came early, with no ray of sunset. The palace gardens were obscured in a deep mist, and the river ran dark below them, with hardly a ray to penetrate the gloom. The king ate an early supper, and then retired with his favorite dog. It was his custom to go to his chamber for devotions immediately after the evening meal. It was very still in the palace — very gloomy, with the dull sound of the November rain incessantly falling. Occasionally the step of the guard was heard on the corridor. The little duke and the princess were waiting the return of their father in a dimly lighted room near the banquet-hall. He did not come. The foot of the guard sounded firmer, and became impatient. Suddenly the pitiful howl of the king's hound broke the silence of the palace. The little duke heard it and started to go to his father's chamber. The young princess followed him, a strange look of terror in her baby face, and her eyes filled with tears. The children came to the main stairway, when they were ordered back by an attendant. In their retreat they again heard the hound in their father's chamber utter the same friendless, piteous howl. THE GREYHOUND'S WARNING 95 There was a back staircase that led up to the same room. The children passed silently through the empty apartments that led to it, and were startled again and again on their noiseless way by the pitiful howling of the dog, which now began to be piercing in its distress. Just as they arrived at the foot of the staircase, a heavy sound was heard at the chamber door above. It was answered by a sharp bark from the hound. "Father must have gone," said the little princess; " what made the dog howl so ? " There was a crash at the door above. The young princess clasped her brother in fear, and tried to draw him back. " They are breaking into his room," said the prince. " Let us go to him; let us defend him." There was a hurried step and a cry on the stairs. The children drew back ; the hound came bounding down and ran up to them and around them in anxiety and terror. There were more footsteps on the stairs, and another cry: " Give the alarm ; the king has escaped ! " FRITZ BY REBECCA PALFREY UTTER HAS anybody seen my Fritz? You may not think him pretty. But he 's the dog that I love best In country or in city. His hair 's a sort of grizzly gray, And not so very curly ; But he can run like everything, And bark both late and early. Sometimes he minds me very v^fell ; And sometimes when I call, He only sits and wags his tail And does not stir at all. 96 FRITZ 97 But the reason why he acts that way Is very plain to see: Fritz does n't know that he 's my dog — He thinks that he owns me. So, though he has a heap of sense, 'T would be just like him, now. To think that I 'm the one that's lost, And with a great bow-wow To go off hunting for his boy Through alley, lane, and street, While I am asking for my dog Of every one I meet. GIPSY, THE BIOGRAPHY OF A DOG BY THOMAS W. KNOX ONE day, several years ago, a gentleman, in company with a friend, was searching the dog-pound in New York for a missing retriever. As they passed along the rows of boxes where the inmates of the canine prison were tied, they were greeted with many marks of affection by the animals that were hoping to find friends to release them. " Please take me away with you," was plainly expressed by many a pair of doggish eyes; and sometimes, when the visitors paused to pat the head of a prisoner, their attentions were so warmly reciprocated that it was not easy to tear themselves away. Fre- quently, as they moved along the narrow space between the rows of boxes, some of the dogs they left behind were almost frantic in their despair at being abandoned to the fate awaiting them, which they seemed to realize. The missing dog was found and rescued. While its owner was settling the terms of its release, the attention of the other gentleman was drawn to a small terrier, of the " black and tan " variety, that was balancing itself 98 GIPSY, THE BIOGRAPHY OF A DOG 99 on the edge of the high board which formed the front of its prison cell. It was held by a cord, which prevented its jumping to the floor outside; when at the bottom of the box it was invisible, owing to the height of the front, and hence its efforts to retain a position where it could be seen. An attendant rudely pushed the dog inside the box, but it immediately climbed again to the edge of the board and mutely appealed to the stranger for his friend- ship. The painful attitude, and something in the face of the little terrier, awakened the gentleman's sympathy ; he patted and talked to the animal for a few moments, noted the number of its prison, and then hastened away to the house of a friend whose daughter had recently ex- pressed a wish for a pet dog. Fortunately he found the young lady at home. " Come with me, Fanny," said he. " I have found a dog for you." Fanny needed no second invitation, and in a few min- utes they were on their way to the pound, accompanied by a servant carrying a small blanket. At first sight of the terrier, Fanny was disappointed. The dog was thin and weak ; its coat was rough and star- ing ; its feet were all torn and raw between the toes from standing so much on the edge of the board; and there was a large scar along its side where a wound had but recently healed. But when Fanny looked into its plead- loo BRAVE DOGS ing eyes, and saw how patiently and with what suffering it maintained its place where it could be seen, and how much it longed for rescue, she decided to accept it. The gentleman paid the two dollars necessary to obtain the dog's release, and the little animal was wrapped in the blanket and carried home by the servant. On the way it barely moved its head; it seemed to have abandoned hope, and lay as if half dead in the servant's arms. A bath, good food, and the tender care which Fanny gave it quickly restored the patient. In a few days its feet were healed; it began to recover flesh and strength; its coat grew sleek and soft ; new hair covered the ugly scar ; and by the end of a fortnight it was apparently as well as it had ever been in its life. Fanny named it Gipsy, and the two were the fastest of friends. The dog pre- served a friendly though dignified demeanor toward the rest of the household, and lavished its affection upon its young mistress. It obeyed her in every way, and seemed constantly to desire to please her. Toward strangers it was reserved and shunned familiarity, but if Fanny said, " Go to the lady," or " Go to the gentleman," it went without hesitation. It was fully a month after Gipsy's rescue and estab- lishment in this new home when the gentleman who had accompanied Fanny to the dog-pound made his first call at her house since that event. Two or three members GIPSY, THE BIOGRAPHY OF A DOG loi of the family were in the parlor when he arrived, but Miss Fanny was in her room. In a few minutes she came to the parlor, followed by the usually shy Gipsy. The latter looked a moment at the caller, and then, at the first sound of his voice, rushed toward him with many doggish demonstrations of delight. The little creature sprang into his arms, licked his face, threw its fore legs around his neck as though embracing him, and then, jumping to the floor, went dancing and running about the parlor. Around and around it went, till some of the spectators feared it had lost its senses; every little while it paused and renewed its demonstration toward the gentleman, and then around and around it went again. It did not stop again till fairly exhausted with fatigue, and for the rest of the gentleman's stay the dog sat upon his knee or lay in his lap, and gazed into his face with wonderfully expressive eyes. Its actions said as plainly as though spoken words, " I know it is to you I am indebted for this nice home and so loving a mistress, and I wish to thank you for it." And ever after, during the five years of her life with Fanny, Gipsy always wel- comed him with the same delight, while to other visitors she was, as one might say, doggedly indifferent. The only exceptions she made were to those who had shown her some special kindness or attention, and these she never forgot. For example, while Fanny was at the sea- I02 BRAVE DOGS side one summer, Gipsy became separated from her on a certain afternoon and returned to the hotel. A party was about to go on a saiHng excursion, and Fanny was included, but she feared to lose her dog; Dr. , a gentleman of the party, offered to go and bring it. " If you will go to the door of my room," said Fanny, mentioning its number, " you '11 probably find Gipsy there. She always runs there when she loses me, and she knows the way as well as the waiters do." The doctor found Gipsy at the door, but could not persuade her to go with him. He took her in his arms and carried her, in spite of several struggles, to the dock, where the party was waiting. Immediately on finding her mistress, Gipsy seemed to comprehend the situation ; she ran from Fanny to the doctor, and then from the doctor to Fanny, as though trying to say, " Excuse me; I did n't understand it. I'm so sorry I resisted ; I see now that you were my friend." During the whole after- noon she divided her time between the two, and when, six or eight weeks later, the doctor called at Fanny's city residence, Gipsy recognized him, and renewed her ac- quaintance of that day at the seaside. In playful tricks and ways Gipsy was not specially unlike other intelligent dogs, however much Fanny may have believed otherwise, but she certainly displayed un- usual appreciation and gratitude. She was easily taught GIPSY, THE BIOGRAPHY OF A DOG 103 to do many things. While receiving instruction she looked steadily into Fanny's eyes, as though endeavoring to comprehend what was wanted, and to reason out the desired results. Her previous history was unknown. From time to time she astonished her mistress and friends by revealing a knowledge of tricks which were probably learned in her younger days. She knew how to sit erect. Fanny taught her to sit by her side at table, and her dignity and good behavior were the admiration of everybody. From time to time she would sit up, with her fore paws drooping at right angles in front, and pa- tiently wait for a dainty morsel. If no attention was shown her, she would speak in the softest whisper, mak- ing hardly a sound beyond that of closing her jaws; re- peating this two or three times without success, she would venture upon an audible bark, but it was always as gentle as she could make it. She never went to the table without being invited, evidently recognizing it as a privilege, and not a right. She never followed her mistress into the street without invitation; though the door was left wide open, she gazed wistfully after Fanny descending the steps, but without attempting to follow. She perfectly understood the diflference between " Gipsy can go," and " Gipsy must stay at home," but even when the former phrase was uttered, she always waited for the magic words, " Come along ! " I04 BRAVE DOGS Fanny cites several instances of the reasoning powers of the dog. Gipsy slept in a willow basket which con- tained a soft blanket. One very hot day in the early part "gipsy would sit erect and patiently wait for a morsel" of the first summer of her rescue from captivity, she found the bed uncomfortable, and after vainly trying several times to lie there, she sat down in front of the basket, apparently wondering what made it so warm. For five minutes she sat there with her head dropped in meditation; then she took the blanket in her teeth, dragged it to the floor, and lay down upon the cool wil- GIPSY, THE BIOGRAPHY OF A DOG 105 low with a sigh of satisfaction. Ever afterward on hot days she repeated the performance, and with a Httle in- struction from Fanny she learned to drag the blanket back again if the temperature fell enough to make her old bed desirable. She slept at night in her basket in Fanny's room, but at six o'clock in the morning was privileged to go to the side of her young mistress. As the clock struck the hour, she left the basket and went to the bedside. For a long time Fanny was puzzled to know how Gipsy knew the hour, but finally discovered that it was by a steam- whistle on a factory several blocks away. The whistle was blown at six o'clock as a signal to the workmen ; but one night Gipsy mistook the whistle of a ferry-boat for that of the factory, and went to Fanny's side, thus re- vealing her method of keeping time. Fanny sometimes reclined on a lounge and played with her pet, but when she wished to rest, she had only to say in gentle tones, " Be quiet, Gipsy, and lie down ; I am tired." Instantly all romping ceased and the dog settled to sleep or retired to its basket. The old adage says " every dog has its day," and Gipsy was no exception to the rule. One autumn she fell ill, lost her sight, and developed various canine disorders for which no cure could be found. With patience far beyond that of many men and women she endured her io6 BRAVE DOGS sufferings, and down to the hour when she died, the only sound she ever made was a low moan, though it was often evident that she was in great pain. Through all her illness she seemed to appreciate to its fullest extent the kindness of her young mistress, and swallowed with almost no resistance the unsavory drugs which the vet- erinary surgeon prescribed. " Don't forget to say," remarks Fanny as she finishes reading the foregoing lines, " that Gipsy was the most sensitive dog I ever saw or heard of, and more sensitive than most children or grown people. The slightest word of reproof wounded her so that she showed her con- sciousness of it for hours, and she could n't be happy till it was ' all made up.' When that was accomphshed she would bark and dance about, and perhaps bring some of her playthings for a good romp, if you stepped on her foot, or otherwise hurt her by accident, you had only to say, ' Excuse me, Gipsy; I did n't mean it,' and she would pretend she was n't hurt at all." ^y Cs-'^olyrvVye! s Once there was a Pirate Poodle, And he siiilcd the briny seas KiTini the land of Yankee Doodle Southward to the Caribbees. lie would boast with tales outlandish Of his valor and renown ; And his cutlass he would brandish With a fearful pirate frown. So ferocious was his manner All his crew looked on, aghast ; And his sable pirate banner Floated from his pirate mast lie reiterated proudly Naught had power to make him quail ; ■:::.:-r^ Yct whcH thunder roared ioo loudly He would turn a triHe ]"uile. Anil he turnei.l a trifle paler When there came a sudden s(}ua For this funny little sailor Was ridiculously small. And whene'er a storm portended lie M betake himself below. S(.) much tear and cuuraL^e blended I 'id a puate ever ^huw ? ii^Sl::' - PETER SPOTS, FIREMAN BY C. T. HILL THIS is how Joe, the driver of the engine, told me the story of Peter Spots: "How did we get him? Well, I don't remember ex- actly. Let me see. It was about three years ago or more — maybe more — and — oh, yes; Billy has it right. He was chased in here one night by a lot of boys. Now I do remember, and mighty well too. Bob was on watch that night. You see Bob 's my partner, or relief, as we call it. He drives the engine when I am on my day off or out at my meals. We always have at least two dri- vers, sometimes more, both for the engine and tender, in case one is off, or out of the house, when we get a ' run,' as we call an alarm of fire. " Yes, Bob was on watch, and he and I and Billy were standing over there beside the ' trip ' talking. Billy was telling us one of his yarns. All of a sudden there came a ki-yi-ing of a dog out in the street, and a hollering of a lot of boys, and something came flying in through the open doors and took refuge over there, in a corner of the ' hose-tower.' ' A mad dog! ' says Billy; and with that 109 no BRAVE DOGS a crowd of boys ran up to the doorway and began wav- ing sticks and a-shouting and hollering like mad ; and I really think if we had n't been there they would have marched right in and yanked the poor fellow out. As it was, one leaned over the chain and shied a stone at the corner where he was hiding, and I shouted, ' Clear out o' here, you rapscallions ! ' But, bless you, sir, they did n't mind that — not much. They were a hard lot from down the avenue a bit ; and we have a good deal of trouble with them. It is only luck that we have n't run over half a dozen or more of them when we are turning out. Seeing that did n't have any effect on them, I reached for my whip on the engine, and started for the crowd ; and you ought to have seen them dust ! Why, when I got to the pavement there was n't a sign of them anywhere. They disappeared like the wind. I then came back, and put- ting the whip up in place again, I went over to see what kind of a dog it was. Billy calls out: ' Look out, Joe! Maybe he 's mad.' But I says : ' Not much; only fright- ened a bit.' And I knelt down beside him. He was crouching in the corner, licking a place on his hind leg where one of the rascals had hit him with a stone. At first he growled a little; but I spoke kindly to him, and seeing he was n't going to get hurt, he began wagging his tail and shaking his head back and forth as if he knew me. PETER SPOTS, FIREMAN iii " Billy came over, and, looking at him, says : ' Why, he 's a coach-dog, and not a bad-looking fellow either, only he has n't seen a square meal for some time. I '11 bet those boys have scairt the life half out o' him. Say, Joe, he would be a good dog for the house. Why, T remember when I was down in 17 Engine—' But just then the Captain came in and I was spared another one of Billy's yarns. " ' Captain,' says I, ' would you like a dog? ' " ' No, I guess not,' says he, slowly; ' we have killed all the dogs we ever had — run over them; and then, he would be getting in the way of the horses when we 're turning out, and — ' " ' No,' said Billy. ' He 's a coach-dog and used to horses; he wouldn't be in the way.' " ' Where did you get him? ' says the Captain. He ran in here a few moments ago. Some boys chased him in,' says I. " ' Well, he '11 run out again, the first chance he gets,' replied the Captain. " ' I don't think so,' says I. ' He 's been badly treated, and if we give him something to eat and treat him right he will stay with us, I think; and if anybody wants to come and claim him, and can prove that he is theirs, they can have him.' " By this time the Captain was interested, and he 's as I 12 BRAVE DOGS good-hearted a man as ever wore a leather hat, and fond o£ horses and dogs, so he leans over and says to Peter, who was sitting there looking so solemn : ' Would you like to be a fireman's dog? ' ' WOULD YOU LIKE TO BE a FIREMAN's DOG? ' " " I '11 eat my hat if I don't think he knew what the Captain said, for he put his two front paws forward and rubbed his nose up and down between them, as much as to say: ' Yes.' " ' What 's his name ? ' says the Captain. PETER SPOTS, FIREMAN 113 " Billy and I shook our heads, and I says, ' We don't know.' "'What's your name?' says the Captain, looking right at him. " He looked back as if he wanted to speak, and opened his mouth and moved his tongue from one side to the other as if trying to say something. " ' That 's not loud enough,' hollers the Captain, laugh- ing. ' What 's your name? ' " This time the dog gave one short bark. "'That sounds like Pete,' said Billy; 'there's only one syllable in it ! ' Billy 's a smart one, even if he is an old-timer. " ' Well, Pete it is,' says the Captain. ' All right, boys, take care of him — and Joe, see that you don't run over him; and Bob,' — giving a wink to me (Bob was sitting at the desk), — ' put him down in the house- journal as a new member, and see that he responds on the floor at roll-call in the morning; and Billy, here,' — he put his hand in his pocket and pulled out a quarter, and tossed it to him, — 'go around to the restaurant and get him something to eat — we can't let a new member go hungry.' " That was just like the Captain; he would n't let any one go hungry — least of all a poor dumb animal. " Bob had opened the book and was putting him down in the journal, as serious as a judge. 114 BRAVE DOGS " ' Fireman of the third grade, Captain ? ' he sung out. " ' Yes,' says the Captain, ' fireman of the third grade.' "'Peter—' and then Bob stopped. 'Peter what?' says he. " ' I don't know,' says the Captain, and he looked at me. " ' Well,' chimes in Billy, ' he 's all over black spots. / 'd call him Peter Spots ! ' "'That's right,' says the Captain; 'Billy, you're a jewel; Peter Spots it is. And now, go and get him some- thing to eat, or he '11 starve to death before we get him down in the journal.' " And down he went in the books as ' Peter Spots, new member,' and that 's how he came to join our company. " The first night he was with us we did n't have any ' calls,' and after getting a good meal from what Billy brought back he crawled over there behind one of the stalls and went to sleep — the first good night's sleep, I guess, he 'd had for a long while. The next morning he was up early, as frisky as could be, playing with the man on watch and a-cutting up high jinks all around here, for you see he was a young dog and playful-like. Just then a station came in — the gong began to hit — and we came piling down from above. The horses rushed out, and the racket kind o' scared him,— it came so sudden, — and he went sneaking off to the back of the house with his PETER SPOTS, FIREMAN 115 tail hanging down as if he was afraid he'd knocked something over and caused all the hubbub. " The station did n't touch us, though, and we did n't go — that is, not on the first alarm; but it was one of our second-alarm stations, and while we were waiting, — for we always keep the horses hitched up and wait on the floor for ten minutes on all stations that we are ' due on ' on the second alarm, — the Captain says: 'Where 's the new member ? ' But nobody knew, so we all shook our heads. " The house-watchman said the last he saw of him, he was skipping off toward the back of the floor when the ' joker ' began to ring, and we looked all over, but could n't find him anywhere, and the Captain declared he 'd run away, just as he said he would. But finally, about twenty minutes after, when we got the ' test call,'— which is eleven taps that we get every morning at eight o'clock, from headquarters, to see that the wires are all in work- ing order, and which also serves as the ' roll-call ' of the company, and is the beginning of another day's ' watches,'— he came crawling out of the furnace of that spare engine that we keep over there in the corner, where he had hid himself, and sneaking along the stalls he came over to us, looking very sheepish and ashamed. The Cap- tain, winking at me, hollered at him : ' You 're a nice fire- man, you are. If you don't respond in better order at ii6 BRAVE DO.GS roll-call in the morning after this, we '11 have you up before the Commissioners, and have you fined five days' pay!' " But Billy spoke up and took his part, and said: " ' Don't be hard on him. Captain. He 's a new mem- ber, and new members are always nervous. Why, that gong would give 'most any one the heart-disease, hear- ing it the first time, it comes so sudden.' " The first run we made after getting him, he didn't go with us, and we were wondering when we were roll- ing home whether we would find him in the engine- house on our return, or whether he had turned out with us and we had lost him on the way to the fire ; for we 're not over-particular in taking notice of things around us when we are getting out when an alarm of fire comes in. The first idea is to get out, and that as quickly as possible; and as we had all become interested in Peter, we were anxious to see whether he had deserted us or not; but when we opened the door of the house, out he came bounding, jumping up at all of us, and barking away, as much as to say: ' Well, did you put out the fire? Sorry I was n't with you,' or something like that; for to me he is so smart that I think he is trying to talk all the time in his own way. And now — well, bless you, sir, he 's the first one out of the house. The instant the gong be- gins to ring, he takes his position right there under the PETER SPOTS, FIREMAN 117 front truck of the engine, and there he stands. Eyes wide open, ears up, and tail sticking right straight out, he watches me. The moment / start for the seat, he 's off hke a shot for the end of the pole between the horses, barking like mad; for he knows we are going out, or I would n't jump for the seat. When the doors open, out he goes like a bullet out of a gun ; and if there is any one passing or standing outside, he clears them away in short order ; and there 's very little danger of running over any one as long as we have him ahead of us, for he clears the way better than two or three men could. On he keeps, all the way to the fire, and half a block or more in front of the engine. " And now let me tell you how smart he is ; for no mat- ter how rough the street may be, no matter how dirty, muddy, or slushy it is, nor how the stones may hurt his feet, on he goes, and never leaves it; but when we are coming home ! the street is n't good enough for him, and you can't get him into it, no matter how you may coax. No, sir ; he takes the sidewalk back, and walks along as quiet and dignified as can be, scarcely ever noticing any other dog on his way ; for I think he feels that he is much more important than they are, and that they are not in his class at all. And he won't stop when we get to the fire ; but he follows us right in the building, down a base- ment or up a ladder— ah, now I see you are laughing, !i8 BRAVE DOGS and don't believe what I am telling you, but it is a fact. He can climb a ladder with the best of us, providing it ain't too high a one, and he follows us right in with the line; but he can't come down a ladder; he has n't the knack of that yet, and that 's where the trouble comes in. Many 's the time we 've gone up and brought him out overcome with smoke, and, carrying him down, laid him in the wagon to get over it. " And many 's the time the Chief has said to us : ' Some of you fellows will be losing your lives yet with that dog ! ' But, pshaw ! sir, we would as soon think of leav- ing one of the company behind as leaving Peter ; for he is one of the company, although he 's only a dog. " And burns ? Well, say, his back is all tattooed from the burns he 's caught. What with falling plaster and bits of burning wood, he is all covered with bare places where the hair will never grow again; but those are service marks, and, I tell you, he 's a veteran and proud of them. " But poor Peter got in disrepute one day and was ' suspended from active duty.' I must tell you about it, for it is one of the events of his life and shows that a dog never forgets. " It came about in this way. We always had a reputa- tion for being a lively company — for turning out in good order and quickly, for keeping all stations that we were PETER SPOTS, FIREMAN 121 due on first, and not losing any of them to the other com- panies above or below us through slowness, and for al- ways being found in a ' good position ' by the Chief when he arrived at the fire — something our Captain has taken a great deal of pride in ; but there came a time when every- thing went wrong with us, and Peter, without meaning any harm, helped it along. We got a new team of horses for the engine and were breaking them in; they were pretty slow at first, and it was quite a job, and it was as much as I could do to get a ' run ' out of them, and Peter got in a bad habit of jumping up at them and biting at their chests when we were on our way to a fire. I suppose he thought he would make them go faster by doing this ; but this only made matters worse, and instead of increasing their speed they would balk and stop al- together. " I tried to break him of it; but it was no use. I fixed a long lash to my whip and would touch him with it, but it did n't make any difiference, and I knew there would be trouble if he did n't stop, for we kept losing fires that were easily ours, and to save Peter I kept blaming it on the horses, and told the Captain it would be all right when we got the team broken in. Finally there came a day when everything went against us. " We received an alarm of fire from a station above here that should have been ours without any trouble. 122 BRAVE DOGS You see, sir, there is a great deal of rivalry among the companies about getting to a fire, when an alarm comes in. The next company above here lies about eighteen blocks away; the next one below, about fifteen blocks. We claim everything half the distance either way. If we can hitch up a little quicker than they can, and make better time, we can get fires away from either of the other companies, for the first company to arrive ' gets the fire,' that is, gets ' first water ' as we call it, and there is a great deal of ' crowing ' done when we beat another company in their own territory, and we feel very cheap when we get beaten ourselves. " Well, that 's the way it was on the day that Peter got suspended. The alarm came in from a station that was in our half of the territory — a fire that ought to have been ours easily, but the harness got ' jammed,' — would not come down on the horses, — then when we started the horses shied, and we came near killing our lieutenant, who was opening the doors. This got the engine crooked, so that we could not get through the doorway, and we had to back her before we could get out, and I tell you, everything went wrong. We only lost a few seconds by these mishaps, but it was enough to lose us the station. " When we finally got out and were going up the avenue, T tried to make up for lost time by giving the PETER SPOTS, FIREMAN 123 horses all the rein I could, and giving them the whip once in a while; but Peter was so excited by this time at the delay that he began jumping at the horses' chests and biting at them, and they balked so they would n't go at all. I suppose he meant well enough, and wanted them to go faster, but he only made matters worse; and when I got to the fire there was our rival company at work, — line stretched in, — and making all kinds of mean re- marks as we pulled at a hydrant. Even the Chief was there, and he gave our Captain an awful lecture — wanted to know ' if we were all asleep down at our quarters ' ; and ' if we thought we were going to a funeral, that we took so much time ! ' This almost broke the old man's heart, and I tell you I never felt so cheap in all my life as I did when I found how late we were. " When we got back to quarters again we all got a lecture from the Captain, and then he took me aside and said : " ' Joe, I don't like to do it, but we must get rid of Peter. He's bothering the horses a good deal, and I cannot take any more chances like that to-day. If I lose any more fires, you know what will happen.' And he looked at me hard, and I nodded my head ; for I knew that meant a transfer for him to another company. Then he went on to say : ' We must give him to some nice fellow,— some one who will take good care of him. 124 BRAVE DOGS — and it must be some one who lives at a distance from here. You know, if we give him to any one in the neigh- borhood he '11 be back in fifteen minutes. Meanwhile, he is not to turn out with us any more. So tie him up until you find some one to take him.' And so Peter was suspended from active duty. " It happened that I knew the very person to turn him over to. There was a baker who delivered bread to some of the houses around here, and whose shop was quite a way from here, — about thirty or forty blocks, — and in a street we were not apt to go through. He had taken a great liking to Peter, and had offered to buy him several times, and, of course, we had always refused. Peter had also come to like the baker very much, for he brought Peter, every once in a while, an odd kind of bread that Peter was very fond of. So that night, at my supper- hour, I took Peter down to his bake-shop, and transferred the smartest dog in the fire department from an engine- house to a bakery — a big come-down, I tell you. "At first we missed him a good deal. I went down to see him whenever I had a chance, and found he was getting- along nicely, although I could see he was broken in spirit ; and no wonder. Think of it ! After the excite- ment of life in a fire-engine-house, with the gongs a- hitting, the horses a-prancing, and the men a-shouting, to have to knuckle down to life in a dry old bakery, with PETER SPOTS, FIREMAN 125 nothing but a lazy Dutchman and a lot of crullers and cream-puffs for company, is enough to break any one's spirit ; and I felt sorry for Peter. " We had almost forgotten about Peter, and got used to not having him around, when one day a ' third alarm ' came in that took us out ; and in getting to the station I had to drive through the street the baker's place was on. I never thought of it myself, but, on my word, Peter had n't forgotten us; and when we made our appearance he showed up pretty quick. The baker told me all about it afterward, and this was the way it happened: Peter was lying asleep beside the stove in the center of the bake-shop, when all of a sudden he pricked up one ear, and then jumped on his feet and gave a bark. The baker was making out some bills behind the counter, and thought nothing of it until the next moment Peter gave one jump, and was in the show-window among the pies and cakes and such like. The baker hollered to him to get out; but Peter began to claw at the window, and bark and howl. You see he could hear our whistle and bell and had recognized us. Then the baker made up his mind that the dog had gone mad, and got frightened and got up on a chair, and began to holler himself ; and what with the baker and Peter, there was a high old time in that bake-shop for a while. Every time Peter gave a kick he knocked a pie or a plate full of cakes out of 126 BRAVE DOGS EVERY TIME PETER GAVE A KICK, HE KNOCKED A PIE OR A PLATE FULL OF CAKES OUT OF THE WINDOW " the window until he had it clear of everything. Then we hove in sight ; and through the side of the show-window he saw us, and recognized me in the seat, and that settled it — no bake-shop could hold him then. He jumped back in the store, braced himself in front of the glass in the door, and when we were just about opposite he gave one last howl, and crash ! out he came, through glass and all ! " I heard the racket, and turned my head just in time to see him come flying out. I understood it all in a mo- ment, and expected to see him roll over dead in the gutter; but not much! He came through so quick he CRASH' OL I HE C\MC, THROLGH GI ASS AND ALL ! ' PETER SPOTS, FIREMAN 129 scarcely got a scratch ; and away he went, down the street ahead of us, barking at every one, and clearing the way just as he used to, and running around in a circle and jumping high in the air and cutting up gymnastics— and happy?— well, I just guess he was happy! Even the Captain heard him in all the racket behind the engine, and let up on the whistle long enough to holler ahead to me to look out and not run over him ; but there was small fear, for he beat us by half a block all the way to the fire. " When we got there we * stretched in and stood fast,' as we call it, which means we stretched in the hose and got ready to go to work when so ordered ; but they did n't need us, for the fire was pretty well out then, and the third alarm had only been sent out as a sort of precaution ; so in a few moments the Chief ordered us back to quarters. " When we were ' picking up,' or putting the hose back in the wagon, Peter was around among us like old times, and every one of the ' gang ' had a kind word for him. He was cut a bit about the back with glass, so the Captain says : ' Throw him in the wagon, boys, and we '11 take him back to the house and mend him up. I '11 put him on probation ; and if he acts right he can stay with us as long as he wants.' And then he adds : ' But you fel- lows will have to chip in and pay for that pane of glass.' And we all laughed; for we were willing to pay for a whole show-window to get Peter back again. I30 BRAVE DOGS " Well, I guess I 've tired you almost out, telling you about Peter's trials and troubles ; but you see, sir, we are all so fond of him we never get tired talking about him to any one who cares to hear. Now he 's settled down and come to be a regular fixture; no more pranks or tricks — steady as an old-timer. He got all over bother- ing the horses ; never did so after we got him back ; and, anyway, he does n't get much chance now. We 've got one of the quickest teams in the business, and they can race a mile with that old five tons machinery behind as fast as any other team in the department ; and Peter has all he can do to keep from getting run over ; so he gives them a wide berth. When we catch a fire in a butcher- shop he takes full charge, and we always turn it right over to him. He 's very busy then. But when we strike a fire in a bakery — not much ! You could n't get him to go near it for love or money. He always gets right up in the hose-wagon, on the driver's seat, and won't budge for any one ; and if you go near him after the fire is out, and make believe you're going to grab him and carry him in the bakery, maybe he won't growl and show his teeth!— well, I guess ! He is n't taking any more chances of getting shut up with crullers and cakes for company. " Smart ? Well, I should say so ! Why, when Dau- chey's wagon drives up now (that 's the baker who had him for a while) and Peter sees it, he has important busi- PETER SPOTS, FIREMAN 131 ness down in the cellar, and nothing can get him out of there except an alarm of fire. He knows that wagon well. I do believe if he was to meet it on the way to a fire he would go 'way around the block. Why, say — I think — " But I never heard what Joe thought, for at that instant a gong began to ring, — a dozen men seemed to drop from the very sky, — horses rushed past me, — there was a shout here and there, and a voice yelled : " 632. Seventy- fourth Street and Eighth Avenue," — the big doors opened, and before I could recover my senses the engine rolled by me with Peter's historian in the seat and two figures clinging on behind. The engine left a streak of steam and a strong smell of burning oil as it rolled out, and I could see one of the figures dash a great burning mass into the furnace. The next instant a wagon full of partly dressed men dashed by me, and I was alone in the big house, the gong beating away with a peculiar jerking " bang, bang," and a thin stream of steam rising from the steam-pipe in the floor, over which the " five tons of machinery " had stood a quarter of a minute before. A hat and coat and a halter-strap, thrown here and there on the floor, were all the evidence left of the fif- teen or sixteen living, breathing creatures — men and horses — that had stood around me a few seconds before. The change had come so quickly I could scarcely realize it, and as I stepped outside, while a kindly neighbor closed 132 BRAVE DOGS the massive doors, I unconsciously looked about me for my friend and for Peter. But they were gone— had vanished from the street as quickly as they had from the house; and all that remained was a thin haze of smoke that filled the air. In the distance I could hear the clang of a bell, the shrieks of a whistle gradually dying away, and above all the shrill barks of a dog — cries so sharp and penetrating that I shall never forget them. That was Peter Spots, fireman, on duty. PBTER ON HOUSE-WATCH 4,, "IF VIIR KMIW WHAT ri\[ SAYIN', WAG VOIR TAIL ' "TWO BARKS" BY FRANK LE SEUL WE had n't ought ter 'a' done it, Rover ; I s'pose we '11 ketch it now, for fair. They said, " Come home when school is over, An' not go playin' anywhere." But it looked so shady down the river. With the willows hangin' half-way 'cross. That I stopped to watch the ripples quiver. An' then I gave a stone a toss. You started first down through the pasture. An' I was 'f raid 't wa'n't right ter go ; But you said, " Wow, wow ! " when I ast yer — Two barks means yes, an' one means no. An' now we '11 get a reg'lar trimmin', An' have to tote a' old milk-pail ; We '11 ketch it, too, for goin' in swimmin'. If yer know what I 'm sayin', wag your tail. Yer do? Good doggy! Don't you worry! I '11 take your lickin' an' take mine, too. When yer see 'm comin', you scoot 'n a hurry; If I stay, they won't go chasin' you. On'y next time you remember, Rover, When I ask whether we 'd ought ter go A-swimmin' after school is over. Two barks means yes, an' one means no. I3S THE SCHOOL-ROOM DOG BY MARY E. FITZGERALD ON Friday Miss Murphy had declared, in a voice trembling from her efforts to keep back the tears, that she could not put up with George White another day. He was simply an " instrument of torture," she said. The principal looked sympathetic, but said, with a sigh, that it was a sad thing to turn a ten-year-old boy into the street, and that was what would have to be done if she gave him up ; no one else could manage him. " Well," she replied, " it is a case of turning either him or me out. I have tried everything. Kindness he laughs at ; severity he sneers at. He has done everything that a child bent on mischief could do. If I were not the victim, it would be rather amusing to see the infinite variety of his devices for making mischief in the school. Every time he puts his hand into his pocket, I shudder for fear it will come out with a rat or a mouse in it." " But whatever makes you think that? " said the prin- cipal, looking amused in spite of his sympathy. 136 THE SCHOOL-ROOM DOG 137 " I was foolish enough to show fear, one day, when a rat came sauntering in from the hall. Yes, I mounted the chair and did all the things that people laugh at wo- men for doing." She smiled at the thought, and then, recollecting the woes of the day, she sighed. " You are tired out ; go home, and on Monday George shall get his walking-papers. I am sorry you did not speak of this before. It is a shame to have you annoyed in this way. Good night. But cheer up ; your sufferings are over. George shall go on Monday. I must see that he does." On Monday life looked brighter, and the teacher con- fided to her friend that she believed she would try George another day. He couldn't "spring" any sur- prises on her, because he had already done everything that could be done except actually producing the rat. George seemed unusually quiet that morning. The school session had not yet begun when a most peculiar sound seemed to issue from his vicinity. The children looked interested, but George appeared so busy that the teacher, although suspicious, gave him the benefit of the doubt and said nothing. A few minutes later, the same sound, proceeding un- mistakably from George's desk, was heard again. Miss Murphy felt herself turning pale, and her heart 138 BRAVE DOGS gave a convulsive leap as she thought, "It certainly must be a rat this time ! " But George's look of terror as she went down the aisle convinced her that this was something out of the ordi- nary. Then, at her stern request, George brought forth from the bosom of his jacket something that looked like a ball of mud — something round, with woolly spots here and there ; something with a little red tongue eagerly licking the grimy hand that held it. She gazed at it in speechless amazement, and then her fondness for anything little and helpless caused her to take the tiny animated ball tightly to her shoulder, and say in the most caressing tones, " What a dear little dog!" " But what did you bring him to school for ? And how did he come to be so forlorn ? And have you given him anything to eat ? " she asked, turning to George. " I found him in an alley yesterday, and took him home ; but my aunt put him out this morning, and I had nowhere to leave him, and I thought he 'd be still, he 's so little," he replied breathlessly. " I gave him some bread, but he would n't eat it ; and he does n't know how to drink water." The children had all crowded round to see the dog, and from among the many suggestions one was selected. THE CHILDREN HAD ALI- CROWDED ROUND THE SCHOOL-ROOM DOG 141 George was given a nickel to buy milk, and was told to ask the storekeeper to warm it a little. He returned in less than half an hour with Mr. Puppy cleaned and fed and happy; and the little dog spent the remainder of the morning in the waste-basket, which had been cushioned with a shawl. At noon George and Miss Murphy discussed ways and means. He was determined to keep the puppy, even if he had to house it somewhere else than in his own home. " If your aunt sees how fond you are of it, perhaps she will let you keep it," suggested the teacher. " If she thought I liked it much, she 'd be more likely to get rid of it, the way she did with my rabbit; but she won't get it," he said. "Well, we '11 see what can be done. We can manage for a day or two, at any rate ; bring him back this afternoon." " He 's the cunningest little thing, is n't he ? " said the proud owner. " Would you think any one could throw him in the mud. Miss Murphy? I thought maybe you 'd make me take him home, but I knew you would n't hurt him, if you found me out. You would n't hurt anything, would you. Miss Murphy?" And after this surprisingly long speech from the boy she had formerb' been unable to move, he went away with his treasure carefully hidden under his coat. 8 142 BRAVE DOGS On her way down-stairs Miss Murphy had occasion to call upon the janitor, and suddenly it occurred to her that perhaps he might find a hole or corner for the puppy in the cellar. At first he refused point-blank even to con- sider the subject; then he rubbed his chin thoughtfully and said maybe it could be managed. " It is too bad to deprive a kid of his pet," he said; and promised that, for a couple of days at least, he would put him in the big box that held the waste paper. But, alas! when Miss Murphy mentioned the owner's name, the kindly old man became furious. " Is it George White you are asking me to do a favor for? That imp that hit me in the neck with a lump of mud and nearly ruined my best coat, to say nothing of giving me such a headache that I was sick for two days ! If ever I lay my hands on him — " Here speech failed him. Miss Murphy confessed there were times when she wished some one who had the right to chastise him would exercise that right. " But since he takes an in- terest in this little animal," she said, ^' I am going to try to reach him through his love for it, and you are going to help me, Mr. Flood; I know you will. You have good reason to be angry, but think what I have endured for five hours every blessed day for a year ! If I can forgive him, surely you can." THE SCHOOL-ROOM DOG 143 He bridled and set his lips and sputtered, and finally said he 'd " think it over." Bvit, alack! when George heard what arrangements had been made, he flatly refused to accept any favors from " old Flood." " He '11 just kill my dog. He 's only purtendin', Miss Murphy. I know I threw mud at him, and I 'm goin' to hit him with a frozen snow-ball when I get a chance," he said viciously. " Takes boys and bangs 'em up against the wall, he does ; but I '11 get even with him. I don't want any old janitor to bang my dog up against the wall, and that 's what he 'd do if he got mad at him once." Miss Murphy persevered, and eventually succeeded in inducing George to go down to the basement with her. Mr. Flood's manner w;as so gay and debonair that she felt a thrill of suspicion, and wondered if he cotdd be so resentful in his ill humor as to punish the boy through his pet. To her surprise, he greeted George with " Hello, kid ! Got any mud to throw? That was a nice trick to play on an old man who never did anythin' to you." " You did, too," quickly replied George. " You bumped me up against the side of the school-house for nothin'." Mr. Flood took him by the shoulders. " Well, maybe 144 BRAVE DOGS I did. I usually catch the one that 's handiest, and I suppose it was your luck to be in the way; but did you ever think, my boy, how many times you did do somethin' and did n't get bumped? " This was evidently a new view of the situation, and a smile crept into the eyes of the old man, and then to the lips, and, wonderful to see! George was laughing. He wriggled himself loose with an " Ah-h-h, go on " ; and then the janitor and the boy fell to examining the dog in the chummiest way imaginable. The little mouth was opened for inspection, the ears were felt, and vari- ous other points carefully gone over, much to Miss Murphy's amusement; and Mr. Flood's opinion, given after much rubbing of his chin, was that it was " a mongrel— a nice little feller, though." He said his " ol' woman " would give him a bottle of milk to bring over, and George could come down earty and feed Mr. Puppy. " Now," said Miss Murphy, " you must be sure to wait until George comes, no matter how hungry the doggy is. My mother does n't like any of us even to feed her cat. And," she went on, " George can do little chores for you to help pay his pet's board." Miss Murphy received so many petitions to see the doggy that she made up her mind she would keep the THE SCHOOL-ROOM DOG i45 little creature in the room. A rug was brought and put in a warm corner ; a little staple was driven into the base-board, and to this he was chained. Always at recess he was to be taken down for a run ; and so he be- came an honorary member, for the time being, of Room Five. When the principal learned of the arrival of the puppy he looked very dubious at first, and came into Miss Murphy's room with an expression that boded ill for the hopes of the scholars ; but, as if he knew he was on trial, puppy sat up straight on his rug to his extreme height of ten inches, looked the principal in the face with his head on one side, as if weighing him in the balance, and suddenly gave a convulsive little leap of joy and began to lick the hand held out to pet him. The puppy had won. " If the superintendent has no objections, he may re- main for the present," said the principal. Before the sessions began, a throng surrounded the dog, and, until Miss Murphy positively forbade it, he would have suffered from too bountiful and rich a diet at the hands of the generous pupils. His education began at once. This always took place at recess-time, for Miss Murphy's room was noted for its good order, and during session she allowed nothing to interfere with the regular work. But at recess the 146 BRAVE DOGS once quiet, studious children immediately became a very jolly lot of teachers themselves, with the amusing nov- elty of a dog for a scholar. Miss Murphy would look on at it all and smilingly say: " Well, when that sullen Charlie Nelson took doggy up the other day, and petted him as gently as even little Margaret does, and when I saw Lawrence cuff a boy who was stoning a cat, I cheered up." At first every movement of the puppy was watched with extreme interest — often, I fear, with the result of lessons none too well learned; but one day, when it seemed impossible to arouse any interest in arithmetic. Miss Murphy took the little dog into the cloak-room, where, in spite of his piteous little whines and the miser- able face of George, she let him stay. Not one word was said, but the next day, when she made the slightest move in his direction, there was such a sudden show of studi- ousness that she thought her lesson had been taken to heart. George, who had become a reigning favorite in the room, was picking up wonderfully in his lessons, but physically he looked wretched. Mr. Flood and he got on very well together, and the janitor had established him in a fairly profitable paper route and secured him several customers. One day Mr. Flood came up smiling and in evident THE SCHOOL-ROOM DOG i47 possession of a great joke. " Miss Murphy," he said, "have you never noticed that the pup has no name? He's always called 'No. 5's dog,' or 'our dog,' or ' George's dog,' or ' the little puppy.' " I have talked to George about it, but all he would say is, ' He has a name.' ' But what 's the good of a name,' said I, 'if no one knows it?' But he's stub- born about some things, so I let him alone. This morn- ing he was combing out the doggy's coat, and talking to it and whispering and loving it,— and indeed, miss, it would do your heart good to see them together, — when he said : ' Now, Murphy, you must sit up and let me get the tangles out of your frizzes, or else you won't be a nice little doggy.' Then I walked in on him, and I thought I would have died. You never saw any- thing so funny as the look on his face. " ' Sonny,' I said, ' it is n't becoming to call a dog after Miss Murphy; the lady might not like it.' " The lady in question looked perfectly confounded, and then, the idea of it pleasing her fancy, she laughed. " Well," she replied, " I have never suffered from an excess of dignity, but what little I have will certainly be lost if that little piece of impudence is called Mur- phy ; but what did George say ? " " He said he called the dog after you because he liked you better than anybody, but if I thought you 148 BRAVE DOGS would n't like it, he 'd change it. I thought I 'd get your opinion." "Well, what do you think?" " It will be confusing once in a while; but what if it is? You like a joke yourself and won 't mind." Miss Murphy thought it over, then she said: " It's a queer notion, but, after all, it 's an honest one, and he seems set upon it. I think the children would like it, too." So she decided to let George keep the name for the present. Next day she announced to the children the honor which George had bestowed upon her, and their looks of surprise and delight showed that they indorsed the boy's choice. And thus Murphy was christened. " Did you know. Miss Murphy, that poor George has n't any place to live ? " whispered one of the scholars to the teacher one day. " No place to live! " said Miss Murphy, in astonish- ment. " Why, where is his aunt? " " She moved two or three weeks ago, and G«)rge would n't go with her. Mama has tried to get him to come and sleep at our house these cold nights, but he won't. He 's such a funny boy: he gets mad if you offer him a thing. There are eight of us children, but my mama says there 's always room for one more; but really THE SCHOOL-ROOM DOG 149 we can't get him in. She told me to tell you, because she thought you might manage some way." Miss Murphy went down to see Mr. Flood, who was as shocked as she at the state of affairs. " But I can do nothing, miss. I 'd take him home, but my wife does n't like boys or dogs ; but something must be done." " I '11 take him home to-night," said Miss Murphy, " and perhaps, as ' the night brings counsel,' I may be able to suggest something to-morrow. Can he be of any use to you in the work? " " Oh, yes ; he 's neat and energetic about everything." " Could you pay him anything? " " I might give him a suit of clothes, and after that pay him a little each week. It would make him more inde- pendent-like." George objected very much to going home with his teacher when she asked him, but when she said, " Why, George, my big brother is just wild to see Murphy perform, and will be so disappointed," he yielded. George was now no stranger to Mrs. Murphy, for every Saturday he appeared, beat the rugs, and gave the dog a bath. Nothing could persuade him, however, to take a cent for his work; he said his dinner was all it was worth. On every hand the teacher had to fight an in- dependence so fierce that it frightened her. ISO BRAVE DOGS Murphy was put through his paces, and showed some accompHshments that even the teacher had not known he possessed. When George took the broom and pretended to sweep, Murphy took in his teeth a towel conveniently dropped on the floor, and began to dust in the most businesslike and thorough way. The family said they had never had a pleasanter evening, and al- though the house was small, the family large, and the mother a semi-invalid, still George was pressed to come again. They had been warned to ask him no questions. The next day a note was written to the mother of eight, and, as school was about to close, the teacher said, " George, will you do Mrs. McCarthy a favor ? She wants you to take Murphy over to her house,— she has heard so much about him, — and she says if it is very late when he gets through his tricks you had better plan to stay all night." So one more night's supper and lodg- ing were secured for him. The fashion spread, and in- vitations poured in until it seemed as if the whole school term might be provided for. The children proved a blessing to the boy. The good mothers saw that the little clothes were mended, and then Mr. Flood took him down-town and bought a complete outfit, part of which had been paid for by the night-work. Murphy by this time had learned many tricks; he would shake hands, spar, pretend to read a book, and ; 4 'every SATURDAY HE GAVE THE DOG A HATH THE SCHOOL-ROOM DOG iS3 he invariably dusted the table before lying down. Oc- casionally he dusted the teacher's table, too ; but one sad day, alas ! he knocked over her ink and a vase of flow- ers, so she put him in the cloak-room, where at intervals he tapped for admission, but in vain. Her table received no more dustings. Her ink hap- pened to be on his table one day, and, with his duster in his mouth, he sat looking up at it with the most mournful expression until a little girl removed it. He was now being thoroughly trained for " atten- tion," and a comical sight he was with one paw over his eye, on his nose — in fact, any place except where his trainer wanted him to put it. They never thought, when poor Murphy was making such a ridiculous object of himself, that this trick would prove his salvation. After a while the children of the whole school would gather around to see Murphy at " attention " every time he saw the big, good-natured policeman in the yard. " Miss Murphy, do you believe in miracles ? " said Mr. Flood. " Yes," promptly responded Miss Murphy, " I do. Why?" " Well, one has come to pass. When I went home yesterday, who should be reading to my wife but George, and she 's declared many a time she'd trounce 154 BRAVE DOGS him if she ever caught him: she can't forget that mud he threw at me. I was beginning to think I had the boy so much on my mind that it was only a ghost I saw ; but just then Murphy fell off the chair he was sitting on over into the coal-scuttle, and I heard the noise and knew I was awake. To say I was surprised is to put it mildly ; but I acted as if it was the most ordinary thing in the world, and then I heard the news. " It appears that my wife had turned her ankle, and wanted some one to go for the doctor. The lad was the first one who passed, and she tapped on the window for him. When he came back from the doctor's, without saying anything to her, he went into the kitchen and began to clear up. She could see it all reflected in the looking-glass. The fire had gone out, and he got the kindling; and Murphy, who must always have a finger in every pie, brought him a small bit of the kindling, sometimes standing on his hind legs, sometimes dancing and going through so many antics that my wife forgot her ankle. But when George began to sweep and the dog to dust, that beat anything she ever saw, and she laughed so loud that I believe it helped her to get well. She thinks a lot of the stories in the ' Record,' and was pining to know how things were turning out with the heroine in one of the continued stories, so she had George read to her ; and that settled the matter : the boy THE SCHOOL-ROOM DOG 155 and the dog are to be quartered with us. I raised a lot of objections, and then 1 was told I was an unfeeling wretch, because she had always wanted a boy to save her steps, and the dog would be company for her. Now what do you think of that? Would you have believed it possible that he could have won her over like that? " " I could n't be happier if some one had left me a fortune," said Miss Murphy, at home that night, and every one rejoiced with her. The children were getting ready for gymnastic class when the tall, fine-looking, genial superintendent, ac- companied by a strange gentleman, came in. He greeted the children courteously, and then, glancing toward Murphy's table, seemed utterly confounded. He had not visited the room since the advent of the new pupil, and the principal had forgotten to mention the puppy to him, so there certainly was good reason for his astonishment. Murphy, who dearly loved visitors, sat up with the most interested expression, and, his outstretched paw being ignored, had laboriously got his paw to his eye and sat at " attention." Mr. Leonard walked over, exam- ined the dog critically, and graciously shook the prof- fered paw; but he said no word, and no indication of what he felt could be guessed. 156 BRAVE DOGS The march began. Down from the table leaped Murphy and caught in his mouth his own especial wand, made just long enough to pass easily between the desks. He had been trained to keep from knocking the seats, and usually his whole attention was devoted to keeping the wand straight. Drawing was next on the program. The dog had been taught to pass pencils, but, of course, was allowed to do this only on special occasions. A basket was hung around his neck, and he would go demurely down the aisle, as sober as a deacon with a collection-plate; but to-day he stopped at the desk of every one of his particu- lar friends, and succeeded before long in spilling the pencils on the floor. His short barks and frantic efforts to get them back into the basket overcame even the teacher's annoyance, and she laughed, the visitors join- ing in heartily. " Now, Murphy," she said, " you 've certainly dis- tinguished* yourself this afternoon, so you just march right into the cloak-room; but before you go you may bring me a ruler." And when he crawled to her with it in his mouth. Miss Murphy gave him two slaps — gen- tle ones, it must be admitted — across the woolly little back; after that, with his head down and tail between his legs, he went into solitary confinement. When the teacher was asked to stop a few minutes in THE SCHOOL-ROOM DOG 157 the principal's office, it did n't require the gift of proph- ecy to know what the trouble was. The visitor, who was there, asked the particulars of Murphy's installation, and then the teacher earnestly assured him that the mis- chief of that afternoon was entirely out of the ordinary, and that usually the dog was a real help instead of a hindrance, that he had a more powerful influence on the children in the room than any one would have an idea of, and that he had made a good, earnest boy out of a little demon of mischief. " Your room," the visitor said, " made me think of a parent with an only child on exhibition. Just think of it — fifty guardians for one little dog! How could he behave any better? The kindliness in your room is worth any amount of good order, although I 'm sure the good order is there, too. Now, I have a couple of little girls who are to have a birthday-party next week. My sister is at her wits' end to know what to do to entertain the guests. Suppose you have that little fellow bring Murphy and spend the afternoon. I '11 give him three dollars for it with pleasure." " Who is that gentleman? " she said to the principal, after the visitor had gone. " It is the great Dr. B , who is making a study of school-room conditions. He was very much interested in your experiment. He is coming to see you again soon." 158 BRAVE DOGS Miss Murphy did not feel so sure of the deHght of the principal, but when he came next time he walked up the first thing and shook hands with Murphy. He said his little girl demanded every night the story of the dog who ran around the room with a stick in his mouth, and shook hands with papa and barked at the policeman, and he wanted to get some new particulars. The entertainment at Dr. B 's proved a great success, and for several Saturday afternoons thereafter George and his dog were engaged by some of the fami- lies in the neighborhood. The money he thus made was put in the bank, making what Mr. Flood called " a rainy- day collection," and George healthy, happy, busy, and " getting rich " was a very different boy from the George frowsy, mischievous, ragged, of four months ago. As Miss Murphy stepped from the car one Monday she was met by half the pupils of her room. At sight of her, tears and lamentations broke forth, and it took the bewildered teacher some time to learn that her name- sake had been stolen. "It was that beautiful collar you gave him!" re- proachfully cried one little girl; and that seemed to be the universal opinion, and in some way the teacher felt herself responsible. THE SCHOOL-ROOM DOG 159 She had had six small foreign coins each engraved with a letter, the whole forming the word " Murphy." The coins were fastened on a leather band, and a Roman coin was used to balance the license-tag. The children thought it the most beautiful thing they had ever seen. At first Murphy himself thoroughly detested the whole arrangement; when it was put on, he walked with the greatest dignity into the cloak-room, and stayed there the rest of the session. But being very susceptible to kind words and caresses, and receiving them in such abundance, he became as vain as a peacock when he was " dressed up," and insisted upon making a tour of the rooms every time he had his collar on. No doubt the children, in talking of it, had greatly ex- aggerated its value, and some one had been tempted; at any rate, Murphy had disappeared, and there was sorrow in the school-room. The teacher's eyes were red, the little girls were sad all day, and the boys at the whispering recess spoke as if some one were dead. One little optimist said : " Oh, we '11 get him back ; ^ you just see if we don't ! All our fathers and mothers will tell about him; and the school-yard policeman will tell all the other policemen, and I 'm just sure we will get him again." This hopeful little soul, who always reminded his i6o BRAVE DOGS teacher of Tommy Traddles, seemed to have a cheerful influence, and toward the end of the day there seemed to be no doubt whatever but that Murphy would be found. Plans were even made for decorating his table; but the days passed, and still no sign of the lost pet. George was wandering the streets, looking like a ghost. Mr. Flood hired a janitor for a few days, and threw himself heart and soul into the search. Mr. Leon- ard, the principal, came over to condole with Room Five, and said he had spoken of the dog in every room he visited, and the children were scouring the streets. At the end of the month all hope, however, had died out, and it seemed a certainty that the dog was not in the city. But one day a messenger boy came in, and the letter he brought said: Send owner of Murphy to Madison and State streets, northeast corner. All the children wanted to go, of course; but, as George was the only recognized owner, it was he who went. There was a shout as George came up the street car- rying something in his arms, and when he came into the room, such a rush and scramble ; but, alas ! how quickly the joy gave way to tears! Murphy was not the Murphy of a month before. Muddy, thin, fright- THE SCHOOL-ROOM DOG i6i ened, sick, he shrank as if in terror of his former play- mates. When the teacher took him in her arms, he tried to put his paws around her neck, but was too weak to do it. With tears George told how he had been found. The big policeman at one of the busiest corners of the city had seen standing upright against a building a muddy, forlorn dog, evidently trying to perform some trick. He toppled over two or three times, and then for one second sat at " attention." The policeman suddenly remem- bered orders from police headquarters regarding a curly brown dog answering to the name of Murphy. When he saw the dog he called, " Is this Murphy ? " The little creature looked up so quickly that the officer felt sure it was the missing pet of the school-room. He sent word to headquarters, and gave the dog into the keeping of the Italian boy who kept a news-stand near by. The boy tried to feed him, but he would n't take a thing, and his new keeper feared the dog would n't live through the night. Poor George was frightened at such a prospect, but Tommy Traddles came to the front again and suggested " warm milk, like that he had when he was a little puppy," and this, being at once administered, seemed to revive him. In two weeks he was back at his table ; but, somehow, i62 BRAVE DOGS he did n't seem the same for a long time. He who had graciously held out a paw to every one who came in now cowered at sight of a stranger, and once, when some repairing was in progress, he could not be pre- vailed upon to lie down anywhere but on the platform at the side of the teacher's desk until the men had gone. Every one wondered what had destroyed Murphy's confidence in the human race and what had been his ex- periences, and the children amused themselves writing compositions about his adventures; but one and all agreed he had been badly treated, and that it was a " mean shame " to hurt any one's dog, and as long as they lived they would be good to " dumb animals who could n't tell where they lived or anything." The collar, unfortunately, was never recovered. So, having provided George with a home, with friends, and with a bank-account; having given Miss Murphy peace of mind ; having taught fifty children the value of kindness to dumb animals, and provided entertainment for the whole class, not to mention many friends outside, Murphy can now be left trotting around the school- room, only happy when he is useful, even if in his well- meant endeavors in this line he occasionally hinders more than he helps. iiUNEV IN HIS HARNESS OWNEY, OF THE MAIL-BAGS BY M. I. INGERSOLL ONE raw autumn day, some sixteen years ago, a little puppy crept into the Albany Post-Office building for warmth and shelter. He was a homeless, hungry little fellow, shivering with the cold, and even to be just inside the door seemed like bliss compared to the street. Everybody was busy with his own concerns, and nobody saw him. The homeless little dog took courage, and ventured farther and farther into the warmth and comfort. There was a door opened, and he slipped through it. In one corner was a pile of leather mail- bags; he curled himself up among these and went to sleep. In the morning when the clerks went for the bags they found him there. He could not tell them where he came from ; but the wag of his little tail and the plead- ing look in his brown eyes said plainly, " Please let me stay ! " and they did. That noon one of the post-office clerks brought, with his dinner, some soup in a bottle for the puppy, and the 165 166 BRAVE DOGS next day another kind-hearted man treated him to a piece of steak. Days went by and nobody came to claim him. Neither did he wander away from his new quarters. He hked his new home, whatever his previous one had been, and meant to stay there. As one and another came in and saw him, they would say: "Whose dog is that?" And then the postal-clerks would reply, giving him a playful pat: " Owney ! Owney ! who is your owner ? " After a time everybody called him " Owney." Under good treatment Owney grew very fast, and soon became a very wise and intelligent little terrier. From the first night that he had slept on the mail-bags he had been very fond of them. He often wondered, in his dog way, where they went to when they were tossed on to the wagons and carried off. One day he made up his mind he would go with them and see; so, when the driver jumped on his high seat and drove off, Owney trotted on behind. He saw the bags flung into the car, and when a good chance came he went in after them. Nobody saw him, nobody missed him; but Owney and the mail-bags were old friends, and he was not afraid to go where they went. By and by, when the men began to overhaul the bags, they found Owney just as he had OWNEY, OF THE MAIL-BAGS 167 been found that first day in the office, asleep among them. They were men who knew who Owney was and where he came from, and they took care of him and brought him back on their return trip. But Owney had learned the secret of the mail-bags. Neither did he dislike the steady jogging of the train and the attention which he received. Soon after he took another trip. This time he was gone for several weeks, and his friends at Albany thought they had seen the last of him ; but one morning he walked in looking a little thinner, a little more ragged, but very wise and happy. Though glad to be at home again, he had evidently en- joyed his trip very much. Where he had been, of course, was only conjecture, but it was thought he must have been a long distance. His friends, afraid that he might go upon another journey and perhaps be lost, took up a subscription and bought him a collar. This collar was marked : Owney, Albany P. O., Albany, N. Y. To this collar was fastened a card asking the railroad postal-clerks to fasten tags to him showing where he had been, in case they should encounter him traveling about. i68 BRAVE DOGS,, It was not a great while after this that Owney was gone again. His way of traveling was to jump aboard the first mail-car he met, and when that reached its des- tination and was emptied, he would take any other that was standing in the station ready to leave. If he ever got tired and wanted to go home nobody knew it ; and as he could not ask questions as to the way, the only thing for him to do was to keep on going. He went to all kinds of places. Some days a generous postal-clerk would give him a good dinner, the next day he would have none', but it was all the same to Owney so long as he had the excitement and change. He went to Chicago, Cincinnati, and St. Louis, and they attached checks to his collar. Then he went on through Salt Lake City to California, and from there to Mexico. In Mexico they hung a Mexican dollar on his neck. From there he came up through the South, finally reaching Washington. His collar was hanging full of tags and checks, and poor Owney was weary of the heavy load about his neck. Postmaster-General Wanamaker saw him and took pity on him. He carried him out one day, and had a harness made for him ; then he took the badges from his collar and fastened them to his harness, as you see in the picture. If you look closely you will discover the Mexican dollar, and also a King's Daughter's badge which some one presented to him. OWNEY, OF THE MAIL-BAGS 169 Owney did not tarry long in Washington, but was soon off again with his new harness. The farther he went the more checks he had to carry, and the heavier grew his load. At last the attachments alone weighed over two pounds, and poor Owney was tired of carrying the dangling things about with him. A Boston postal-clerk saw him and took pity on him as Mr. Wanamaker had done; he carried him home to his house and wrote a letter to the postmaster at Albany, telling him of the dog's difficulties. Word came back to take off the harness just as it was, and forward it to them. This was done, and the harness with its attach- ments can be seen any time in the post-office building at Albany, preserved in a glass case with Owney's pic- ture. Once in his travels Owney reached Montreal, and, happening to follow the mail-bags to the post-office, he was taken possession of and locked up, while a letter was sent to Albany telling the officials there of his whereabouts. A reply came to let him go and he would take care of himself. This the Canadian postmaster refused to do till the cost of feeding and keeping him was paid, in all amounting to two dollars and fifty cents. A collection was called for among his old friends, the money forwarded, and Owney released. Everybody in the postal service in the United States I70 BRAVE DOGS knows him, and perhaps the next time he visits Canada he will not be a stranger. Owney is a cross between an Irish and a Scotch ter- rier. His fur is short, gray, and curly. He has beauti- ful, intelligent brown eyes, but somewhere in his wan- derings has lost the sight of the right one, probably from a hot cinder. When he wore his harness and railroad decorations, he was a dog of most unusual appearance; but he gave up the straps and medals some two years ago, and now there is nothing to distinguish him from any other gray mongrel cur. I had heard about Owney from a friend who in his travels had met the dog; but last summer, while out camping, I became acquainted with him. One of our party was a post-office railroad clerk, and on the day he started for our camp Owney appeared in his postal-car. My friend managed to lure the dog to our camping-ground. Owney seemed pleased at first with the broad fields, and enjoyed now and then a dip in the sea. But two days and two nights were enough for him. On the morning of the second day he disappeared. At half-past six in the morning Owney was still in our camp; but at half-past eight he was reported in the Old Colony station in Boston. He must have caught the first boat for the city, and made straight for the rail- way station. OWNEY, OF THE MAIL-BAGS 171 Where he is now I don't know ; and if I knew to-day, he might be half-way to Cahfornia a few days later. His home is with the mail-bags; and nothing would in- duce him to ride in a passenger-car. But no accident has ever yet happened to a train when Owney has been aboard, and the railroad postal men were beginning to look upon him as a " mascot." OWNEY, THE POST-OFFICE DOG BY HELEN E. GREIO YOU all know that Owney is the queer traveling dog, who likes nothing so well as going on the trains with the mail-bags North and South and East and West. He has traveled from Alaska to Texas, from Nova Scotia to Florida, from Pennsylvania to Missouri — mak- ing side journeys and " stop-overs " as pleased him, either for rest or feeding. As you have been told, he first joined the Post-Office Department at Albany, New York. He either wandered in or was left there by some boy who came on an errand. Not being a letter, he was never advertised, and never called for. Owney's pedigree is not worth bragging about; he is mainly what is known as a mongrel, but he has signs of some purer blood. Neither is he a handsome dog, but he has excellent qualities, and is kindly and intelligent. When Owney found himself an uncalled-for package, he did not begin to whine, or bark, or fear he was unwel- come, but sought to make himself agreeable, and to win friends. Finding that Uncle Sam was willing to keep 17* OWNEY, THE POST-OFFICE DOG 173 him in comfortable quarters, Owney gladly accepted the situation. And now, no matter how far away he may travel, he is known as " Owney, the Albany Post-Ofifice Dog," and is everywhere considered as a popular mem- ber of the department. " How do you know when Owney has gone on a trip ? " I asked the man who especially looks after Owney' s interests. " Why, when the cat comes in the office we know that Owney is away," he replied. " And the dog is away from home so much that the cat is seldom obliged to move out." " Tell me how he begins a journey. Does he know which is the postal-car ? " "Know? Of course he does. He knows a postal- car as well as any postal-clerk. When the mail is sent to the station, Owney jumps on the wagon, and stays there until the last bag is thrown into the car. If he feels like taking a journey, he then jumps aboard the car, barks good-by, and away he goes. Once on the train, he is the guest of the clerks at the offices along the road." He wears a fine silver collar, marked " Owney, Albany P. O., Albany, N. Y.," and with him is often forwarded a book in which is kept a record of places he visits ; and a very interesting story the book tells. The first entry is " New Westminster, British Colum- 174 BRAVE DOGS bia." Then comes " Seattle, Washington Territory." Next, Owney was the guest of the post-office at Port- land, Oregon, after which he is found at Hardacre, Minnesota, under which name occur these lines : On'y one Owney, And this is he ; The dog is aloney, So let him be. While he was at Bozeman, Montana, and, I fancy, a little homesick, this letter was written for him to his good friends at Albany: Dear Folks : I arrived here last night safe and sound from Spokane. I go to Helena, Montana, to-morrow. I have twenty medals on my collar, am fat, and feel well. I start East on the 4th. I will be glad to see you all. Your friend, OwNEY. Detroit, Michigan, contributed this short bit of dog- gerel : Owney is a tramp, as you can plainly see Only treat him kindly, and take him 'long wid ye. Baltimore joins in with this : Once there was a dog that took it in his head Never to stay at home, ever to roam instead. You have him now : send him on ahead. OWNEY, THE POST-OFFICE DOG 175 At Seattle Owney was so well treated that he stayed a long time— for him. In fact, he jumped from the postal- car and returned there for another good time. A blue ribbon was attached to his collar by an admiring friend. A letter from the Railway Clerks' Association at At- lanta, Georgia, says: Owney received an ovation here. After consenting to sit for his photograph, and answering several questions, he was decorated with a medal bearing the inscription, " Compli- ments of the R. R. Club," and was carried by members to the postal-car. Among Owney's chiefest trophies is a duplicate of the seal of the Postmaster-General. A tag made of Cali- fornia tin was given to him in San Francisco. Postal-clerks everywhere are loud in their praises of the dog. One of them writes : Owney is excellent company. When we arrive at stations where the train stops " twenty minutes for refreshments," the dog walks into the station and barks for bones. When the bell rings " All aboard ! " he is the first one on the train. He can tell the difference between a whistle for a crossing, and that for a station ; while he ignores the first, he is up and ready when the station whistle blows. He takes his place on the platform, and waits until the mail is thrown off, and then goes back to bed on the mail-bags. 176 BRAVE DOGS There was some talk of sending Owney to the World's Fair at Chicago, with all his medals, and I am sure that, on his merits, he would have taken first prize. At a San Francisco kennel exhibition, Owney received a very handsome silver medal as the " Greatest Dog Traveler in the World." But the little dog is more than a mere curiosity. He is a faithful friend and companion. It is said that sev- eral times a tired and worn-out postal-clerk, who had fallen asleep, forgetful of the stations, has been wakened by Owney's barking, and has thus been reminded to throw oflf the mail-bag. Owney has never been " held up " by train-robbers, but he has been in more than one wreck. Except for the loss of the sight of one eye, however, the dog is still in good trim. You have heard of his wanderings — now you shall hear of his home-coming. When he reaches the Albany Post-Office, he walks in with wagging tail, and beaming with joy to be at home again. Going up to the good friend who looks after him, Owney rubs against him and licks his hands. Thus he bids all the clerks good morning, wags his tail for a " how-d'-ye-do ? " and, returning to the spot he left months ago, Owney lies down and sleeps for hours. But after this first greeting there is no familiarity. 1 M OWNEY S HARNESS AND SOME OF HIS TAGS AND TROPHIES OWNEY, THE POST-OFFICE DOG 179 While in Albany, Owney goes to a certain restaurant near the post-office, and then carefully selects, from the food offered, just the bones he prefers. He arrives there every day at the same hour. If the restaurant fails to supply the food that Owney is seeking, he goes to a hotel across the street, where he is sure to find a meal. From Mr. George H. Leek of Lawrence, Massachu- setts, the photographer who took Owney's picture, came a letter to the editor of " St. Nicholas " telling how the fa- mous dog behaved when he sat for his portrait. At first Owney ran around the studio, and seemed anxious to find a way out ; but when the dog saw that a mail-pouch had been placed for him to sit upon, he at once lost his rest- lessness and made an excellent sitter. " I had no trouble in taking all the views I wanted, as long as he was on the pouch," says the photographer. Mr. Leek repeats a story that tells how the letter- carriers of Lawrence, Massachusetts, kept Owney as an attraction for their picnic, which was to be held two weeks after Owney's arrival. The dog was very inter- esting to the visitors, but though his hosts treated him well, he became ugly before the end of his stay because he was kept from taking the trains. Owney does not like to be interfered with, and " makes a fuss " unless he is allowed to take the first train that leaves a station. Of course the dog does n't care where 10 i8o BRAVE DOGS he goes, but the post-ofifice clerks Hke to send him where their friends will see him, when he happens to get ofif the through lines. Mr. Leek relates also that before the Boston Union Station was built Owney would cross the city at mid- night or any other hour, and would take little trips for himself, returning just before train-time. When Owney's picture was taken his tags were few — he had been unloaded. The dog's collar is full, and his original harness is full. Owney values his collar, and knows that it introduces him to strangers in the postal service. It is easily slipped off, and he allows it to be taken off and examined; but after he has given his friends a reasonable time for study of the tags, checks, and other attachments, the dog shows very plainly that he would like to have the collar put on again. Once while the clerks were looking over the recent tags a mail-train arrived, and they put down the collar to go to work on the mail. But the dog was not willing to leave his collar, and, putting his nose through it, he slipped it on for himself. After the clerks had learned of this accomplishment they often used to make Owney exhibit his cleverness by repeating the performance be- fore their friends. OWNEY'S TRIP AROUND THE WORLD BY CHARLES FREDERICK HOLDER YOU remember that Owney has traveled over almost every postal route in North America, and that tags and medals, collected from his friends along the way, amounting to a bushel or more, are kept in the Post- Office Department at Washington. In 1895 he visited Postmaster A. B. Case of Tacoma, Washington, having just returned from a trip to Alaska, and one day it happened that Owney rode down to the wharf of the Asiatic steamer when the great vessel was taking her cargo. Owney was evidently much impressed with her size and beauty, and so plainly expressed a desire to go aboard that it was determined to send him on a flying trip around the world, and to let him break the record if possible. So, some few days later, on August 19, 1895, his friends said farewell to Owney, as he walked up the gangway of the good ship Victoria and was welcomed by Captain Panton, whose guest he was to be. Owney had his credentials in a traveling-bag, and he iSl 1 82 BRAVE DOGS carried also his blanket, brush, and comb, his medal- harness for full dress, and letters of introduction to the postal authorities of the world. As the steamer backed out from the dock, hundreds of people waved their hands and wished Owney a safe and prosperous voyage ; and so the trip began. Owney was soon the pet of the crew, and after an uneventful voyage he arrived at Yokohama on Octo- ber 3. Here his baggage was examined, with no little curiosity, by the officials, as no dignitary had before en- tered Japan who owned so many decorations that he was obliged to carry them about with him in a bag! It was concluded that Owney must be either a dog of very high rank or the property of a distinguished person; and an account of him was promptly forwarded for the informa- tion of his Imperial Majesty the Mikado. A few days later an official waited upon Owney, and presented him with a passport bearing the seal of the Mikado. It was addressed to the American dog trav- eler, and in very flowery language extended to him the freedom of the interior country. There were some stip- ulations which, in all probability, Owney would have agreed to had he made the trip. Some were as follows : " The bearer is expressly cautioned to observe in every particular the directions of the Japanese government printed in Japanese characters on the back of the pass- OWNEY'S TRIP AROUND THE WORLD 183 port, an English translation of which is given herewith ; and he is expected and required to conduct himself in an orderly and conciliatory manner toward the Japanese authorities and people." The passport also forbade him to " attend a fire on horseback," warned him not to write " on temples, shrines, or walls," and politely requested him not to " drive too fast on narrow roads." There was no time for side trips, and, after meeting many officials, Owney sailed from Yokohama, arriving at Kobi on October 9, where he received medals and a new passport from the emperor. He was at Maji Octo- ber 19, Shanghai October 26, and Foochow October 31, where also he received more medals and was the subject of an ovation. His fame had preceded him, and at the latter port he received an invitation to visit the U. S. S. Detroit, which was lying in the harbor. One day the marine at the gangway of this fine man-of-war was astonished to see a bemedaled shaggy dog come up the ladder, wagging his tail and showing all the delight that a patriotic American should at the sight in foreign lands of the Stars and Stripes. The marine almost laughed as Owney stepped aboard and ran up to the officer of the deck as though he had known him all his life. Owney dined in the mess-room, ate plum-duff and lobscouse before the mast, and — I could not begin to tell you of all the good things he enjoyed. When 11 OWNEY's visit to the cruiser "DETROIT." *'THE MARINE WAS ASTONISHED TO SEE A BEMEDALED SHAGGY DOG COME UP THE LADDER*' OWNEY'S TRIP AROUND THE WORLD 185 he reached Tacoma again he weighed several pounds more than when he started, and I am confident that his trip with the boys in blue on the cruiser Detroit had something to do with it. When he bade his country- men farewell, he was decorated with the ship's ribbon, and he received a letter of introduction to other officers of the Asiatic squadron from Lieutenant-Commander E. Floyd of the Detroit. From Foochow the dog sailed to Hongkong, where he was unfortunately delayed and prevented from mak- ing a speed record around the world. He visited the con- sulate, made a round of visits to the rich tea and silk merchants, and received many curious pieces of Chinese money, which were strung to his collar. From the Em- peror of China Owney received a passport bearing the royal crest and dragon, permitting him to travel in the country. But Owney did not go beyond the city, and so much red tape was employed on his departure by the Peninsular and Oriental steamer that Captain Panton of the Victoria finally decided to take the dog traveler back to Kobi, Japan, from which port he finally sailed to New York as the guest of Captain Grant of the steamer Port Phillip. Owney soon knew all on board, and, as on the Vic- toria, was a member of both starboard and port watches, and dined both in the cabin and before the mast. 1 86 BRAVE DOGS At Singapore, Owney went ashore with an officer, to the wonderment of the natives, who, noting his decora- tions, concluded that he was a personage of high rank. Some of the native dogs, it is said, looked upon him with distrust, and more than once they rushed out from nar- row alleys and pounced upon the Yankee dog; but it is not on record that Owney was ever defeated. On No- vember 30 Owney sailed from Port Said, where he put to flight more native dogs, and on the trip through the Suez Canal he attracted no little attention from the vari- ous vessels and from postal authorities. Many of the clerks gave Owney some memento. Finally Algiers was reached, and the quaint shipping- port visited, where Turks, Nubians, and others looked upon Owney with amazement. They handled his decora- tions, and some, though perhaps they did not understand just why, fastened to his collar medals which were thus sent to the American people. On December 13 Owney reached St. Michaels, the beautiful port of the Azores, spending a few hours there. The trip from the Azores across the Atlantic was a rough one; but there was no evidence to show that Owney did not thrive in all kinds of weather. Finally the lookout of the Port Phillip sighted land, and a few hours later Owney's baggage was being examined by the custom-house officers, who had never seen so strange "from the emperor or china owney received a passport" 1 88 BRAVE DOGS an assortment of trophies. But, having looked at his cre- dentials, they decided that the collection of medals and tags, though representing a large amount of metal, was personal baggage, and so passed it. Like all distinguished persons, Owney was met by the reporters and " interviewed," and from the bag of decorations and letters his story was probably obtained, and the news of his arrival telegraphed to Tacoma papers as follows: Owney, the postal-clerks' dog, has arrived at quarantine from China, having completed the circuit of the globe. The steamer will dock to-day, and Captain Grant will take the dog to the post-office, and start him on his journey westward at once. As may be expected, this announcement created no little interest among the young people at Tacoma, and Owney was the hero of the hour. Owney arrived in New York December 23, at noon. He was taken immediately to the post-office, and, after a short reception by his many friends, started again by the New York Central for Tacoma, which he reached five days later, having completed the circuit of the globe in 132 days— a rapid rate of traveling for a dog who at- tracted so much attention. Owney was visited by hun- OWNEY'S TRIP AROUND THE WORLD 189 dreds, young and old, and so universal was the demand to see him that Postmaster Case placed him on exhibition in a public hall, and people, for miles around, made his acquaintance. At the end of his trip Owney had over two hundred tags, medals, and certificates to add to his collection, and he is to-day, in all probability, the best-known and the most universally popular dog in the world. READY FOR THE JOURNEY AK0VK3> ^WK WORLU WAYS AND MEANS BY ONE BEHIND THE SCENES OH, wont you purchase tickets, Mr. Poodle, for the ball? We 've engaged two famous singers. Signer Screech and Madame Squall, And a lovely little German band to fiddle in the hall. You can bring your charming family — we 'd like to see them all." 190 WAYS AND MEANS 191 Mr. Poodle looked considerate. " It would be pleasant, quite; Should one even not participate, 't would be a beauteous sight ; But, if I purchase tickets, my purse will be so light. There '11 be nothing left for fancy-dress, so we needs must come in white. And I fear, my dear Miss Shorthorn, that you would not think this right ! " Miss Shorthorn's manner froze at once. " It is a fancy ball ; If folks cannot come in costume, they 'd best not come at all ! The expense of it would be quite too ridiculously small — " 192 BRAVE DOGS And she looked at Mr. Poodle just as if he 'd been a wall. Mr. Poodle meekly bowed himself out backward through the hall- Then he murmured, with a pleasant grin, " Ah, pride will have a fall!" The evening came, and — fancy it ! — the Poodles all were there ! There were some attired in Persian dyes that looked both rich and rare. And some in simple garments, most innocently fair ; There were some in high-necked robes, and some with arms and shoulders bare. And two with fluffy trains were thought a very charming pair; The crowd all turned to look at them, as they went up the stair, And whispered, " Only royalty to wear such tints would dare!" They chose conspicuous places, beneath the gas-light's glare, Mr. Poodle bowing right and left, with a high-bred, easy air. And Mrs. Poodle sitting in the very largest chair. While her eldest daughter— by request— performed the " Maiden's Prayer." And Miss Shorthorn did not know them, though she gave a dreadful stare ; She 'd have fainted had she realized that, with much pains and care, They had made believe to fancy-dress by the way they 'd done their hair ! ■tHE LITTLE BOOTBLACK S FRIEND (BV PERMISSION OF J. (_,. BROWN) DOG SAYINGS ft THERE are two kinds of dog sayings, one spoken in contempt, the other in praise. They originated in different countries and under widely different circum- stances. In the far East, as in the Holy Land or Turkey, dogs are simply scavengers. They roam the streets, homeless and forlorn, eating such refuse as they may find. Hence they are mentioned by Eastern writers in much the same terms as we should apply to pigs. The Bible speaks of them in this way. In northern Europe, however, the dog became man's most faithful friend among the animals, and sayings which recognize the noble qualities of the dog have come from people who have known and loved him as a pet, a companion, a servant, or a protector. It is well to bear , this in mind. TO DOG; DOGGED. A vcrb meaning to follow at one's heels as a dog follows; never to let a person out of one's sight. DOGGED (two syllables), sullen; snappish like a dog. DOG-EARED^ The Icavcs of a book turned down and DOG'S-EARS J spoiled, so that they look like dogs' ears. 195 DOG SAYINGS 197 A. DOG IN THE MANGER. This story comes from the fable of a dog that got into a manger and lay on the hay, snapping at the horses. He could not eat the hay himself, yet he would not allow the horses to have it. The saying means to keep a thing which one cannot possibly use, in order to prevent another's having it who might benefit by it. Hence the meaning, " the extreme of selfishness." IT IS A CASE OF THE DOG AND THE SHADOW. This saying comes from another fable. A dog was cross- ing a bridge with a piece of meat in his mouth. Hap- pening to look into the stream below him, he saw his own reflection, and, supposing it to be another dog, he snapped at the meat, thus dropping the piece of meat he was carrying, which sank to the bottom and was lost The saying means to throw away a certainty for an uncertainty, or a real thing for a shadow. The same thing is often expressed by " A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush," and also by " Don't throw good money after bad money." IN ART the dog has been used as a symbol of faith- fulness and aflfection and was frequently carved on old tombs. The crusaders were sometimes represented with their feet resting upon a dog to show that they followed the footsteps of the Lord as faithfully as a dog follows his master. HISTORICAL STORIES RETOLD FROM ST. 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