d Mrs. Morris, pressing my head tightly between her
hands. "You did a good thing the other day in helping me to start that
little woman out of her selfish way of living."
I did not know about that, but I knew that I felt very grateful to Mrs.
Montague for my new collar, and ever afterward, when I met her in the
street, I stopped and looked at her. Sometimes she saw me and stopped
her carriage to speak to me; but I always wagged my tail, or rather my
body, for I had no tail to wag, whenever I saw her, whether she saw me
or not.
Her son got a beautiful Irish setter, called "Brisk." He had a silky
coat and soft brown eyes, and his young master seemed very fond of him.
CHAPTER VI THE FOX TERRIER BILLY
WHEN I came to the Morrises, I knew nothing about the proper way of
bringing up a puppy. I once heard of a little boy whose sister beat him
so much that he said he was brought up by hand; so I think as Jenkins
kicked me so much, I may say that I was brought up by foot.
Shortly after my arrival in my new home, I had a chance of seeing how
one should bring up a little puppy.
One day I was sitting beside Miss Laura in the parlor, when the door
opened and Jack came in. One of his hands was laid over the other, and
he said to his sister, "Guess what I've got here."
"A bird," she said.
"No."
"A rat."
"No."
"A mouse."
"No a pup."
"Oh, Jack," she said, reprovingly; for she thought he was telling a
story.
He opened his hands and there lay the tiniest morsel of a fox terrier
puppy that I ever saw. He was white, with black and tan markings. His
body was pure white, his tail black, with a dash of tan; his ears black,
and his face evenly marked with black and tan. We could not tell the
color of his eyes, as they were not open. Later on, they turned out to
be a pretty brown. His nose was pale pink, and when he got older, it
became jet black.
"Why, Jack!" exclaimed Miss Laura, "his eyes aren't open; why did you
take him from his mother?"
"She's dead," said Jack. "Poisoned left her pups to run about the yard
for a little exercise. Some brute had thrown over a piece of poisoned
meat, and she ate it. Four of the pups died. This is the only one left.
Mr. Robinson says his man doesn't understand raising pups without their
mothers, and as he is going away, he wants us to have it, for we always
had such luck in nursing sick animals."
Mr. Robinson I knew was a friend of the Morrises and a gentleman who wa
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