near. He
was a very small puppy and used to climb inside Miss Laura's Jersey
sleeve up to her shoulder when he was six weeks old. One day, when the
whole family was in the parlor, Mr. Morris suddenly flung aside his
newspaper, and began jumping up and down. Mrs. Morris was very much
alarmed, and cried out, "My dear William, what is the matter?"

"There's a rat up my leg," he said, shaking it violently. Just then
little Billy fell out on the floor and lay on his back looking up at Mr.
Morris with a surprised face. He had felt cold and thought it would be
warm inside Mr. Morris' trouser's leg.

However, Billy never did any real mischief, thanks to Miss Laura's
training. She began to punish him just as soon as he began to tear and
worry things. The first thing he attacked was Mr. Morris' felt hat. The
wind blew it down the hall one day, and Billy came along and began to
try it with his teeth. I dare say it felt good to them, for a puppy is
very like a baby and loves something to bite.

Miss Laura found him, and he rolled his eyes at her quite innocently,
not knowing that he was doing wrong. She took the hat away, and pointing
from it to him, said, "Bad Billy!" Then she gave him two or three slaps
with a bootlace. She never struck a little dog with her hand or a stick.

She said clubs were for big dogs and switches for little dogs, if one
had to use them. The best way was to scold them, for a good dog feels a
severe scolding as much as a whipping.

Billy was very much ashamed of himself. Nothing would induce him even to
look at a hat again. But he thought it was no harm to worry other
things. He attacked one thing after another, the rugs on the floor,
curtains, anything flying or fluttering, and Miss Laura patiently
scolded him for each one, till at last it dawned upon him that he must
not worry anything but a bone. Then he got to be a very good dog.

There was one thing that Miss Laura was very particular about, and that
was to have him fed regularly. We both got three meals a day. We were
never allowed to go into the dining room, and while the family was at
the table, we lay in the hall outside and watched what was going on.

Dogs take a great interest in what any one gets to eat. It was quite
exciting to see the Morrises passing each other different dishes, and to
smell the nice, hot food. Billy often wished that he could get up on the
table. He said that he would make things fly. When he was growing, he
hardly e