Beautiful Joe [25]
on the dogs and pulling their tails, and hurling
stones at them, but they could not separate them. Their heads seemed locked
together, and they went back and forth over the stones, the boys crowding around
them, shouting, and beating, and kicking at them.
"Stand back, boys," said Miss Laura, "I'll stop them." She pulled a little
parcel from her purse, bent over the dogs, scattered a powder on their noses,
and the next instant the dogs were yards apart, nearly sneezing their heads off.
"I say, Missis, what did you do? What's that stuff? Whew, it's pepper!" the boys
exclaimed.
Miss Laura sat down on a flat rock, and looked at them with a very pale face.
"Oh, boys," she said, "why did you make those dogs fight? It is so cruel. They
were playing happily till you set them on each other. Just see how they have
torn their handsome coats, and how the blood is dripping from them."
"'Taint my fault," said one of the lads, sullenly. "Jim Jones there said his dog
could lick my dog, and I said he couldn't and he couldn't, nuther."
"Yes, he could," cried the other boy, "and if you say he couldn't, I'll smash
your head."
The two boys began sidling up to each other with clenched fists, and a third
boy, who had a mischievous face, seized the paper that had had the pepper in it,
and running up to them shook it in their faces.
There was enough left to put all thoughts of fighting out of their heads. They
began to cough, and choke, and splutter, and finally found themselves beside the
dogs, where the four of them had a lively time.
The other boys yelled with delight, and pointed their fingers at them. "A
sneezing concert. Thank you, gentlemen. Angcore, angcore!"
Miss Laura laughed too, she could not help it, and even Billy and I curled up
our lips. After a while they sobered down, and then finding that the boys hadn't
a handkerchief between them, Miss Laura took her own soft one, and dipping it in
a spring of fresh water near by, wiped the red eyes of the sneezers.
Their ill humor had gone, and when she turned to leave them, and said,
coaxingly, "You won't make those dogs fight any more, will you?" they said, "No,
sirree, Bob."
Miss Laura went slowly home, and ever afterward when she met any of those boys,
they called her "Miss Pepper."
When we got home we found Willie curled up by the window in the hall, reading a
book. He was too fond of reading, and his mother often told him to put away his
book and run about with the other boys. This afternoon Miss Laura laid her hand
on his shoulder and said, "I was going to give the dogs a little game of ball,
but I'm rather tired."
"Gammon and spinach," he replied, shaking off her hand, "you're always tired."
She sat down in a hall chair and looked at him. Then she began to tell him about
the dog fight. He was much interested, and the book slipped to the floor. When
she finished he said, "You're a daisy every day. Go now and rest yourself." Then
snatching the balls from her, he called us and ran down to the basement. But he
was not quick enough though to escape her arm. She caught him to her and kissed
him repeatedly. He was the baby and pet of the family, and he loved her dearly,
though he spoke impatiently to her oftener than either of the other boys.
We had a grand game with Willie. Miss Laura had trained us to do all kinds of
things with balls jumping for them, playing hide-and-seek, and catching them.
Billy could do more things than I could. One thing he did which I thought was
very clever. He played ball by himself. He was so crazy about ball play that he
could never get enough of it. Miss Laura played all she could with him, but she
had to help her mother with the sewing and the housework, and do lessons with
her father, for she was only seventeen years old, and had not left off studying.
So Billy would take his ball and go off by himself. Sometimes he rolled it over
the floor, and sometimes he threw it in the air and pushed it through the
staircase railings to the hall
stones at them, but they could not separate them. Their heads seemed locked
together, and they went back and forth over the stones, the boys crowding around
them, shouting, and beating, and kicking at them.
"Stand back, boys," said Miss Laura, "I'll stop them." She pulled a little
parcel from her purse, bent over the dogs, scattered a powder on their noses,
and the next instant the dogs were yards apart, nearly sneezing their heads off.
"I say, Missis, what did you do? What's that stuff? Whew, it's pepper!" the boys
exclaimed.
Miss Laura sat down on a flat rock, and looked at them with a very pale face.
"Oh, boys," she said, "why did you make those dogs fight? It is so cruel. They
were playing happily till you set them on each other. Just see how they have
torn their handsome coats, and how the blood is dripping from them."
"'Taint my fault," said one of the lads, sullenly. "Jim Jones there said his dog
could lick my dog, and I said he couldn't and he couldn't, nuther."
"Yes, he could," cried the other boy, "and if you say he couldn't, I'll smash
your head."
The two boys began sidling up to each other with clenched fists, and a third
boy, who had a mischievous face, seized the paper that had had the pepper in it,
and running up to them shook it in their faces.
There was enough left to put all thoughts of fighting out of their heads. They
began to cough, and choke, and splutter, and finally found themselves beside the
dogs, where the four of them had a lively time.
The other boys yelled with delight, and pointed their fingers at them. "A
sneezing concert. Thank you, gentlemen. Angcore, angcore!"
Miss Laura laughed too, she could not help it, and even Billy and I curled up
our lips. After a while they sobered down, and then finding that the boys hadn't
a handkerchief between them, Miss Laura took her own soft one, and dipping it in
a spring of fresh water near by, wiped the red eyes of the sneezers.
Their ill humor had gone, and when she turned to leave them, and said,
coaxingly, "You won't make those dogs fight any more, will you?" they said, "No,
sirree, Bob."
Miss Laura went slowly home, and ever afterward when she met any of those boys,
they called her "Miss Pepper."
When we got home we found Willie curled up by the window in the hall, reading a
book. He was too fond of reading, and his mother often told him to put away his
book and run about with the other boys. This afternoon Miss Laura laid her hand
on his shoulder and said, "I was going to give the dogs a little game of ball,
but I'm rather tired."
"Gammon and spinach," he replied, shaking off her hand, "you're always tired."
She sat down in a hall chair and looked at him. Then she began to tell him about
the dog fight. He was much interested, and the book slipped to the floor. When
she finished he said, "You're a daisy every day. Go now and rest yourself." Then
snatching the balls from her, he called us and ran down to the basement. But he
was not quick enough though to escape her arm. She caught him to her and kissed
him repeatedly. He was the baby and pet of the family, and he loved her dearly,
though he spoke impatiently to her oftener than either of the other boys.
We had a grand game with Willie. Miss Laura had trained us to do all kinds of
things with balls jumping for them, playing hide-and-seek, and catching them.
Billy could do more things than I could. One thing he did which I thought was
very clever. He played ball by himself. He was so crazy about ball play that he
could never get enough of it. Miss Laura played all she could with him, but she
had to help her mother with the sewing and the housework, and do lessons with
her father, for she was only seventeen years old, and had not left off studying.
So Billy would take his ball and go off by himself. Sometimes he rolled it over
the floor, and sometimes he threw it in the air and pushed it through the
staircase railings to the hall