Beautiful Joe [16]
in the parlor, when the door opened and
Jack came in. One of his hands was laid over the other, and he said to his
sister, "Guess what I've got here."
"A bird," she said.
"No."
"A rat."
"No."
"A mouse."
"No a pup."
"Oh, Jack," she said, reprovingly; for she thought he was telling a story.
He opened his hands and there lay the tiniest morsel of a fox terrier puppy that
I ever saw. He was white, with black and tan markings. His body was pure white,
his tail black, with a dash of tan; his ears black, and his face evenly marked
with black and tan. We could not tell the color of his eyes, as they were not
open. Later on, they turned out to be a pretty brown. His nose was pale pink,
and when he got older, it became jet black.
"Why, Jack!" exclaimed Miss Laura, "his eyes aren't open; why did you take him
from his mother?"
"She's dead," said Jack. "Poisoned left her pups to run about the yard for a
little exercise. Some brute had thrown over a piece of poisoned meat, and she
ate it. Four of the pups died. This is the only one left. Mr. Robinson says his
man doesn't understand raising pups without their mothers, and as he is going
away, he wants us to have it, for we always had such luck in nursing sick
animals."
Mr. Robinson I knew was a friend of the Morrises and a gentleman who was fond of
fancy stock, and imported a great deal of it from England. If this puppy came
from him, it was sure to be good one.
Miss Laura took the tiny creature, and went upstairs very thoughtfully. I
followed her, and watched her get a little basket and line it with cotton wool.
She put the puppy in it and looked at him. Though it was midsummer and the house
seemed very warm to me, the little creature was shivering, and making a low
murmuring noise. She pulled the wool all over him and put the window down, and
set his basket in the sun.
Then she went to the kitchen and got some warm milk. She dipped her finger in
it, and offered it to the puppy, but he went nosing about it in a stupid way,
and wouldn't touch it. "Too young," Miss Laura said. She got a little piece of
muslin, put some bread in it, tied a string round it, and dipped it in the milk.
When she put this to the puppy's mouth, he sucked it greedily. He acted as if he
was starving, but Miss Laura only let him have a little.
Every few hours for the rest of the day, she gave him some more milk, and I
heard the boys say that for many nights she got up once or twice and heated milk
over a lamp for him. One night the milk got cold before he took it, and he
swelled up and became so ill that Miss Laura had to rouse her mother and get
some hot water to plunge him in. That made him well again, and no one seemed to
think it was a great deal of trouble to take for a creature that was nothing but
a dog.
He fully repaid them for all his care, for he turned out to be one of the
prettiest and most lovable dogs that I ever saw. They called him Billy, and the
two events of his early life were the opening of his eyes and the swallowing of
his muslin rag. The rag did not seem to hurt him, but Miss Laura said that, as
he had got so strong and greedy, he must learn to eat like other dogs.
He was very amusing when he was a puppy. He was full of tricks, and he crept
about in a mischievous way when one did not know he was near. He was a very
small puppy and used to climb inside Miss Laura's Jersey sleeve up to her
shoulder when he was six weeks old. One day, when the whole family was in the
parlor, Mr. Morris suddenly flung aside his newspaper, and began jumping up and
down. Mrs. Morris was very much alarmed, and cried out, "My dear William what is
the matter?"
"There's a rat up my leg," he said, shaking it violently. Just then little Billy
fell out on the floor and lay on his back looking up at Mr. Morris with a
surprised face. He had felt cold and thought it would be warm inside Mr. Morris'
trouser's leg.
However, Billy never did any real mischief, thanks to Miss Laura's training.
Jack came in. One of his hands was laid over the other, and he said to his
sister, "Guess what I've got here."
"A bird," she said.
"No."
"A rat."
"No."
"A mouse."
"No a pup."
"Oh, Jack," she said, reprovingly; for she thought he was telling a story.
He opened his hands and there lay the tiniest morsel of a fox terrier puppy that
I ever saw. He was white, with black and tan markings. His body was pure white,
his tail black, with a dash of tan; his ears black, and his face evenly marked
with black and tan. We could not tell the color of his eyes, as they were not
open. Later on, they turned out to be a pretty brown. His nose was pale pink,
and when he got older, it became jet black.
"Why, Jack!" exclaimed Miss Laura, "his eyes aren't open; why did you take him
from his mother?"
"She's dead," said Jack. "Poisoned left her pups to run about the yard for a
little exercise. Some brute had thrown over a piece of poisoned meat, and she
ate it. Four of the pups died. This is the only one left. Mr. Robinson says his
man doesn't understand raising pups without their mothers, and as he is going
away, he wants us to have it, for we always had such luck in nursing sick
animals."
Mr. Robinson I knew was a friend of the Morrises and a gentleman who was fond of
fancy stock, and imported a great deal of it from England. If this puppy came
from him, it was sure to be good one.
Miss Laura took the tiny creature, and went upstairs very thoughtfully. I
followed her, and watched her get a little basket and line it with cotton wool.
She put the puppy in it and looked at him. Though it was midsummer and the house
seemed very warm to me, the little creature was shivering, and making a low
murmuring noise. She pulled the wool all over him and put the window down, and
set his basket in the sun.
Then she went to the kitchen and got some warm milk. She dipped her finger in
it, and offered it to the puppy, but he went nosing about it in a stupid way,
and wouldn't touch it. "Too young," Miss Laura said. She got a little piece of
muslin, put some bread in it, tied a string round it, and dipped it in the milk.
When she put this to the puppy's mouth, he sucked it greedily. He acted as if he
was starving, but Miss Laura only let him have a little.
Every few hours for the rest of the day, she gave him some more milk, and I
heard the boys say that for many nights she got up once or twice and heated milk
over a lamp for him. One night the milk got cold before he took it, and he
swelled up and became so ill that Miss Laura had to rouse her mother and get
some hot water to plunge him in. That made him well again, and no one seemed to
think it was a great deal of trouble to take for a creature that was nothing but
a dog.
He fully repaid them for all his care, for he turned out to be one of the
prettiest and most lovable dogs that I ever saw. They called him Billy, and the
two events of his early life were the opening of his eyes and the swallowing of
his muslin rag. The rag did not seem to hurt him, but Miss Laura said that, as
he had got so strong and greedy, he must learn to eat like other dogs.
He was very amusing when he was a puppy. He was full of tricks, and he crept
about in a mischievous way when one did not know he was near. He was a very
small puppy and used to climb inside Miss Laura's Jersey sleeve up to her
shoulder when he was six weeks old. One day, when the whole family was in the
parlor, Mr. Morris suddenly flung aside his newspaper, and began jumping up and
down. Mrs. Morris was very much alarmed, and cried out, "My dear William what is
the matter?"
"There's a rat up my leg," he said, shaking it violently. Just then little Billy
fell out on the floor and lay on his back looking up at Mr. Morris with a
surprised face. He had felt cold and thought it would be warm inside Mr. Morris'
trouser's leg.
However, Billy never did any real mischief, thanks to Miss Laura's training.