DICK. 



(THE STORY OF A DOG.) 



My first remembrance is when I was 

 about two .weeks old and lived with mv 

 mother, brother and sister in a fancy 

 basket that stood in the corner of a 

 pleasant room in a house in the city of 

 Apokeepsing-. 



My mistress came into the room fol- 

 lowed by another lady, and taking- me 

 up she said : 'This is the one I am 

 going to give to the little boy." 



The other lady took me in her hands 

 and smoothed my curls as she said : 

 "Well, he is a dear little fellow — but 

 what a darkey he is!" 



My father was an imported Russian 

 poodle. He was pure white with pink 

 eyes and nose, but he was cross, for the 

 only time I remember seeing him, he 

 growled at me and I hid in my mistress* 

 skirts while she scolded him. 



My mother was a Skye terrier, silver 

 gray in color and very intelligent and 

 affectionate. 



Our mistress loved us dearly and used 

 to wash us and comb our hair until we 

 were as clean as children. 



She was a pretty woman and we all 

 loved her as much as she did us and 

 would run to meet her and kiss her 

 hands and jump in her lap as soon as 

 she sat down. 



I used to wonder who the little boy 

 was to whom I was to be given, and 

 when he would come for me; but time 

 went on and I was still with my mother 

 and had nearly forgotten about being 

 given away. One day when I was about 

 five months old, my mistress came into 

 the room and said to her daughter: 

 "Emma, where is Sandy?" I pricked up 

 my ears, for that was my name. She 

 then called me and I ran to her. She 

 took me in her arms and carried me to 

 the street. There was a wagon standing 

 by the sidewalk and in it were a gentle- 

 man and a dear brown-eyed little boy 

 who gave a pleased laugh and caught me 

 in his arms, as my mistress held me up 

 to him, and he hugged me so hard that 

 it almost hurt. 



Then the gentleman thanked my mis- 



tress and she said : "Good bye, Sandy," 

 and I tried to get back to her, but the 

 horses started off and I had to go too. 



First we went up a long hill where 

 trolley cars ran and where wagons, 

 horses and people were coming and go- 

 ing all the time. 



Then we drove on over a softer road, 

 with less noise and so few houses that 

 sometimes I had to look all around be- 

 fore I could see any, but at last the 

 horses turned in through a gateway and 

 stopped at a large white house. 



The little boy called, "Mamma, come 

 and see the new dog!" and out on the 

 stoop came a young lady with a baby in 

 her arms, and she said: "Well! well! 

 what a funny little black fellow!" but 

 she said it with a laugh in her eyes so I 

 knew she liked my looks and when the 

 gentleman put me out on the stoop, I 

 ran to her and she took me up and let the 

 baby pull my curls. 



I was so glad to be liked, that I kissed 

 them both ever so many times, until the 

 lady laughed and said: "Here, my son, 

 take this little kisser in and give him 

 some dinner." I was glad to hear that 

 for I was very hungry. 



The next day the little boy said he 

 meant to call me Dick, so his mother 

 took my head beiween her hands and 

 said: "Dear little doggie, your name is 

 Dick now, so don't forget that we mean 

 you when you hear us say it." 



I wagged my tail as hard as I could to 

 tell her I would remember and I did so 

 well that it wasn't long before I forgot 

 to expect to be called Sandy and grew 

 to like Dick much better. 



I found I had come to live on a farm 

 with cool green grass to run through, 

 cats to chase, chickens to hunt and horses 

 ;ind cows to look out for. 



One day I was barking at a cow to 

 make her go into the barn and she 

 turned quickly and kicked me against 

 the fence. 



It hurt me pretty badly and I was sick 

 for several days. My new mistress gave 

 me medicine, rubbed my sides and kept 



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