nd though she was only four years old, she seemed like an old dog. This
was on account of the poor food she had been fed on. She could not run
after Jenkins, and she lay on our heap of straw, only turning over with
her nose the scraps of food I brought her to eat. One day she licked me
gently, wagged her tail, and died.

As I sat by her, feeling lonely and miserable, Jenkins came into the
stable. I could not bear to look at him. He had killed my mother. There
she lay, a little, gaunt, scarred creature, starved and worried to death
by him. Her mouth was half open, her eyes were staring. She would never
again look kindly at me, or curl up to me at night to keep me warm. Oh,
how I hated her murderer! But I sat quietly, even when he went up and
turned her over with his foot to see if she was really dead. I think he
was a little sorry, for he turned scornfully toward me and said, "She
was worth two of you; why didn't you go instead?"

Still I kept quiet till he walked up to me and kicked at me. My heart
was nearly broken, and I could stand no more. I flew at him and gave him
a savage bite on the ankle.

"Oho," he said, "so you are going to be a fighter, are you? I'll fix you
for that." His face was red and furious. He seized me by the back of the
neck and carried me out to the yard where a log lay on the ground.
"Bill," he called to one of his children, "bring me the hatchet."

He laid my head on the log and pressed one hand on my struggling body. I
was now a year old and a full-sized dog. There was a quick, dreadful
pain, and he had cut off my ear, not in the way they cut puppies' ears,
but close to my head, so close that he cut off some of the skin beyond
it. Then he cut off the other ear, and, turning me swiftly round, cut
off my tail close to my body.

Then he let me go and stood looking at me as I rolled on the ground and
yelped in agony. He was in such a passion that he did not think that
people passing by on the road might hear me.

* * * * *

CHAPTER III

MY KIND DELIVERER AND MISS LAURA

There was a young man going by on a bicycle. He heard my screams and
springing off his bicycle, came hurrying up the path, and stood among us
before Jenkins caught sight of him.

In the midst of my pain, I heard him in say fiercely "What have you been
doing to that dog?"

"I've been cuttin' his ears for fightin', my young gentleman," said
Jenkins. "There is no law to prev