for his men to have some kind of family life for
themselves. If one of his men was unmarried, he boarded with the married
one, but slept in his own house.

On this October day we found Mr. Wood hard at work under the fruit
trees. He had a good many different kind of apples. Enormous red ones,
and long, yellow ones that they called pippins, and little brown ones,
and smooth-coated sweet ones, and bright red ones, and others, more than
I could mention. Miss Laura often pared one and cut off little bits for
me, for I always wanted to eat whatever I saw her eating.

Just a few days after this, Miss Laura and I returned to Fairport, and
some of Mr. Wood's apples traveled along with us, for he sent a good
many to the Boston market. Mr. and Mrs. Wood came to the station to see
us off. Mr. Harry could not come, for he had left Riverdale the day
before to go back to his college. Mrs. Wood said that she would be very
lonely without her two young people, and she kissed Miss Laura over and
over again, and made her promise to come back again the next summer.

I was put in a box in the express car, and Mr. Wood told the agent that
if he knew what was good for him he would speak to me occasionally, for
I was a very knowing dog, and if he didn't treat me well, I'd be apt to
write him up in the newspapers. The agent laughed, and quite often on
the way to Fairport, he came to my box and spoke kindly to me. So I did
not get so lonely and frightened as I did on my way to Riverdale.

How glad the Morrises were to see us coming back. The boys had all
gotten home before us, and such a fuss as they did make over their
sister. They loved her dearly, and never wanted her to be long away from
them. I was rubbed and stroked, and had to run about offering my paw to
every one. Jim and little Billy licked my face, and Bella croaked out,
"Glad to see you, Joe. Had a good time? How's your health?"

We soon settled down for the winter. Miss Laura began going to school,
and came home every day with a pile of books under her arm. The summer
in the country had done her so much good that her mother often looked at
her fondly, and said the white-faced child she sent away had come home a
nut-brown maid.

* * * * *

CHAPTER XXXIII

PERFORMING ANIMALS

A week or two after we got home, I heard the Morris boys talking about
an Italian who was coming to Fairport with a troupe of trained animals,
and I c