Beautiful Joe [67]
had to sit farther up than I usually do. During the first
hymn I happened to strike Piggy against the side of the seat. Such an ear-
splitting squeal as he set up. It sounded as if I was murdering him. The people
stared and stared, and I had to leave the church, overwhelmed with confusion."
Mrs. Wood and Miss Laura laughed, and then they got talking about other matters
that were not interesting to me, so I did not listen. But I kept close to Miss
Laura, for I was afraid that green thing might hurt her. I wondered very much
what its name was. I don't think I should have feared it so much if I had known
what it was.
"There's something the matter with Joe," said Miss Laura, when we got into the
lane. "What is it, dear old fellow?" She put down her little hand, and I licked
it, and wished so much that I could speak.
Sometimes I wish very much that I had the gift of speech, and then at other
times I see how little it would profit me, and how many foolish things I should
often say. And I don't believe human beings would love animals as well, if they
could speak.
When we reached the house, we got a joyful surprise. There was a trunk standing
on the veranda, and as soon as Mrs. Wood saw it, she gave a little shriek: "My
dear boy!"
Mr. Harry was there, sure enough, and stepped out through the open door. He took
his mother in his arms and kissed her, then he shook hands with Miss Laura and
Mr. Maxwell, who seemed to be an old friend of his. They all sat down on the
veranda and talked, and I lay at Miss Laura's feet and looked at Mr. Harry. He
was such a handsome young man, and had such a noble face. He was older and
graver looking than when I saw him last, and he had a light, brown mustache that
he did not have when he was in Fairport.
He seemed very fond of his mother and of Miss Laura, and however grave his face
might be when he was looking at Mr. Maxwell, it always lighted up when he turned
to them. "What dog is that?" he said at last, with a puzzled face, and pointing
to me.
"Why, Harry," exclaimed Miss Laura, "don't you know Beautiful Joe, that you
rescued from that wretched milkman?"
"Is it possible," he said, "that this well-conditioned creature is the bundle of
dirty skin and bones that we nursed in Fairport? Come here, sir. Do you remember
me?"
Indeed I did remember him, and I licked his hands and looked up gratefully into
his face. "You're almost handsome now," he said, caressing me with a firm, kind
hand, "and of a solid build, too. You look like a fighter but I suppose you
wouldn't let him fight, even if he wanted to, Laura," and he smiled and glanced
at her.
"No," she said; "I don't think I should; but he can fight when the occasion
requires it." And she told him about our night with Jenkins.
All the time she was speaking, Mr. Harry held me by the paws, and stroked my
body over and over again. When she finished, he put his head down to me, and
murmured, "Good dog," and I saw that his eyes were red and shining.
"That's a capital story, we must have it at the Band of Mercy," said Mr.
Maxwell. Mrs. Wood had gone to help prepare the tea, so the two young men were
alone with Miss Laura. When they had done talking about me, she asked Mr. Harry
a number of questions about his college life, and his trip to New York, for he
had not been studying all the time that he was away.
"What are you going to do with yourself, Gray, when your college course is
ended?" asked Mr. Maxwell.
"I am going to settle right down here," said Mr. Harry.
"What, be a farmer?" asked his friend.
"Yes; why not?"
"Nothing, only I imagined that you would take a profession."
"The professions are overstocked, and we have not farmers enough for the good of
the country. There is nothing like farming, to my mind. In no other employment
have you a surer living. I do not like the cities. The heat and dust, and crowds
of people, and buildings overtopping one another, and the rush of living, take
my breath away. Suppose I did go to
hymn I happened to strike Piggy against the side of the seat. Such an ear-
splitting squeal as he set up. It sounded as if I was murdering him. The people
stared and stared, and I had to leave the church, overwhelmed with confusion."
Mrs. Wood and Miss Laura laughed, and then they got talking about other matters
that were not interesting to me, so I did not listen. But I kept close to Miss
Laura, for I was afraid that green thing might hurt her. I wondered very much
what its name was. I don't think I should have feared it so much if I had known
what it was.
"There's something the matter with Joe," said Miss Laura, when we got into the
lane. "What is it, dear old fellow?" She put down her little hand, and I licked
it, and wished so much that I could speak.
Sometimes I wish very much that I had the gift of speech, and then at other
times I see how little it would profit me, and how many foolish things I should
often say. And I don't believe human beings would love animals as well, if they
could speak.
When we reached the house, we got a joyful surprise. There was a trunk standing
on the veranda, and as soon as Mrs. Wood saw it, she gave a little shriek: "My
dear boy!"
Mr. Harry was there, sure enough, and stepped out through the open door. He took
his mother in his arms and kissed her, then he shook hands with Miss Laura and
Mr. Maxwell, who seemed to be an old friend of his. They all sat down on the
veranda and talked, and I lay at Miss Laura's feet and looked at Mr. Harry. He
was such a handsome young man, and had such a noble face. He was older and
graver looking than when I saw him last, and he had a light, brown mustache that
he did not have when he was in Fairport.
He seemed very fond of his mother and of Miss Laura, and however grave his face
might be when he was looking at Mr. Maxwell, it always lighted up when he turned
to them. "What dog is that?" he said at last, with a puzzled face, and pointing
to me.
"Why, Harry," exclaimed Miss Laura, "don't you know Beautiful Joe, that you
rescued from that wretched milkman?"
"Is it possible," he said, "that this well-conditioned creature is the bundle of
dirty skin and bones that we nursed in Fairport? Come here, sir. Do you remember
me?"
Indeed I did remember him, and I licked his hands and looked up gratefully into
his face. "You're almost handsome now," he said, caressing me with a firm, kind
hand, "and of a solid build, too. You look like a fighter but I suppose you
wouldn't let him fight, even if he wanted to, Laura," and he smiled and glanced
at her.
"No," she said; "I don't think I should; but he can fight when the occasion
requires it." And she told him about our night with Jenkins.
All the time she was speaking, Mr. Harry held me by the paws, and stroked my
body over and over again. When she finished, he put his head down to me, and
murmured, "Good dog," and I saw that his eyes were red and shining.
"That's a capital story, we must have it at the Band of Mercy," said Mr.
Maxwell. Mrs. Wood had gone to help prepare the tea, so the two young men were
alone with Miss Laura. When they had done talking about me, she asked Mr. Harry
a number of questions about his college life, and his trip to New York, for he
had not been studying all the time that he was away.
"What are you going to do with yourself, Gray, when your college course is
ended?" asked Mr. Maxwell.
"I am going to settle right down here," said Mr. Harry.
"What, be a farmer?" asked his friend.
"Yes; why not?"
"Nothing, only I imagined that you would take a profession."
"The professions are overstocked, and we have not farmers enough for the good of
the country. There is nothing like farming, to my mind. In no other employment
have you a surer living. I do not like the cities. The heat and dust, and crowds
of people, and buildings overtopping one another, and the rush of living, take
my breath away. Suppose I did go to