YOURS WITH ALL MY HEART 



"Preston, I hear that dog and he's in 

 that chimney!" 



Uncle Preston aroused himself from his 

 sleepy lethargy, thoroughly alarmed for 

 grandma's sanity. 



"Mother, mother, are you dreaming, or 

 are you crazy? How could that dog be in 

 the chimney ? Has he wings, to fly to the 

 ridge-pole and come down chimney like a 

 Santa Glaus?" 



"Hush-sh-sh!" whispered grandma, with 

 one stilling hand upraised; then, turning 

 back her night-cap off her best ear: 



" Flossie, poor little Flossie ! Hark! Don't 

 you hear that?" 



A faint, far-away, mournful little whine 

 broke the midnight stillness. 



"That dog is in the bottom of this chim- 

 ney, and he's got to be gotten out!" cried 

 grandma, recovering all her decision and 

 energy. 



"Oh mother, how can you imagine such 

 a thing ? If he's in the bottom of the chim- 

 ney, he's dead long ago, smothered with 

 soot. I tell you it's only the wind you hear ! " 



"I tell you, I know better. I tell you, I 

 hear that dog, and he's alive, too; but he 



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