tree, and he stared right in the face of
Lulu, as bold as bold could be.

"Who are you?" growled the dog.

"If--if you please, kind sir, I'm Lulu," she answered.

"Bur-r-r-r!" growled the dog. "I'm not a kind Sir at all. I'm a bad dog!
Bur-r-r-r! Bur-r-r-r! What's your last name? Bur-r-r-r!"

"My last name is Wibblewobble, Bad Dog," she replied.

"Bur-r-r-r! What are you calling me names for?" he asked, and he showed
his teeth something frightful, yes, indeed! Now cuddle up close to me if
you want to, and you won't be a bit afraid, because, in a few minutes Lulu
is going to be saved in a wonderful way. Just you wait and see.

"Why do you call me names?" asked the dog again.

"I--I--If you please," said Lulu, "I thought you said your name was Bad
Dog, sir."

"Bur-r-r-r!" cried the dog. "I didn't at all. No matter what my name is. I
am a bad dog, however, and I'm proud of it!" Oh, wasn't he the bold, ugly
dog, though? Then he looked at Lulu some more, and growled even louder,
and he asked her:

"What are you, a chicken or a turkey?"

"Neither," replied Lulu, "I'm a duck, if you please."

"Ha!" exclaimed the bad dog. "A duck! The very idea! Of all things I love
ducks! I just dote on 'em! I love 'em just like you love jam tarts, I
expect. But why aren't you larger, Lulu? I like big ducks."

"Oh!" cried the little duck girl, "are you going to eat me up?"

"Yes," replied the dog, "I am."

"Then," went on Lulu, very bravely, for she was trying to think of a way
to get out of the deep, dark woods, "if you will wait a year or two, I
will be larger."

"No," said the dog. "I can't wait. I'm in a hurry. I must have you now."

Then he growled some more, and rushed right at Lulu, and I suppose he
would have eaten her up, feathers and all, only for what happened.

Now, what do you suppose prevented him? Why, just as he was about to grab
the little duck girl there was a crashing and a smashing in the bushes and
who should appear but dear Aunt Lettie, the old lady goat! As soon as she
laid eyes on that dog she knew what he was going to do, and without
speaking a word, she rushed right at him and lowered her horns.

Now, it's a good thing for that dog that the sharp ends of Aunt Lettie's
horns had been sawed off. So, you see, when she stuck them in that dog's
ribs, they only tickled him and he had to laugh, instead of sticking right
through him. Oh, how hard he laughed! But he didn't want to, not a bit.

Then Aunt