THE STORY OF A GREY DOG. 



Toto was the totally inadequate name 

 of a beautiful, English greyhcund. His 

 family and friends alike felt that this 

 somewhat weak cognomen was quite in- 

 appropriate for a dog of undeniably 

 high degree, but the decree of Fate 'had 

 been stern in this regard. Had a stran- 

 ger chanced to find the silver-studded, 

 leather collar, bearing the simple le- 

 gend, "Toto, No. I Pelham Road." he 

 never would have guessed that "Toto" 

 represented a tall, English greyhound 

 wnth a spotless white shirt-fronr. wliite 

 paws, and a tiny white tip on the end 

 of his tail. He would probably have 

 fitted the leathern collar about the 

 stout, rough-haired neck of some fussy, 

 little terrier, never suspecting the ex- 

 istence of the slender, silky, grey neck 

 of its real owner. 



No. I Pelham Road had rescued Toto 

 from the grimy hands of a peddler who 

 obviously had no right to possess him. 

 The peddler had arrived one morning 

 on a bright, red cart, profusely gar- 

 nished with shining, household utensils, 

 at the rear of which splendor followed 

 Toto ignominiously tethered by a stout 

 cord. 



Squire Pelham, the owner of the big 

 house at the top of Pelham Road, was 

 just entering his carriage when the ped- 

 dler's vehicle turned in at his gateway. 

 Struck by the animal's beauty and evi- 

 dent lack of harmony with his surround- 

 ings, the Squire purchased him for a 

 few dollars under the obviously dishonest 

 name of "Fido." Toto at once took 

 kindlv to the change in his circum- 

 stances, although he steadfastlv refused 

 to answer to the call of "Fido." The 

 Squire and his wife and their fourteen- 

 year-old daughter. Marjory, exerted 

 their imagination in vain. No possible 

 dog-name occurred to them which 

 seemed to have belonged to Toto, until 

 one day Marjory, by a happy fluke, 

 •called him Toto. Instantly the dog lift- 



ed his long, sharp nose in the air, and 

 gave a series of delighted barks, which 

 said as plainly as a dog might : 



"Thank Heaven, you have discovered 

 my identity at last!" 



Toto settled down very contentedly 

 in his ne^v', comfortable quarters, appar- 

 ently never wasting a thought on the 

 vanished peddler and his spruce, red 

 wagon. There were keener joys here in 

 these spacious lawns where a dog could 

 run miles without ever losing his home. 

 There was a nice little kennel next the 

 carriage-house, carpeted with sweet- 

 smelling hay, which William, the gar- 

 dener, freshened up every morning. 

 Then there was a certain spot near the 

 kitchen where two big, white dishes 

 held an unfailing supply of water and 

 bones. Never once had he made use- 

 less excursions to these storehouses. 

 Their supply seemed as unfailing as the 

 kind words and gentle caresses he al- 

 ways found waiting for him at the big 

 house where the family lived. 



But Toto had dim, unpleasant recol- 

 lections of a time w^ien bones were 

 scarce arfd kicks plentiful. It was a long 

 time ago when he had first cut loose 

 from his mother and brothers, and start- 

 ed out in search of adventure. Dread- 

 ful little boys had pursued him, and 

 thrown stones at him, in order to see 

 those fleet, grey legs fly over- the ground, 

 and shortly after this episode had oc- 

 curred his ignominious capture by the 

 peddler. Day after day he had followed 

 that hideous, red cart, with its jangling 

 wares, homesick to run about the sweet, 

 'green fields, instead of pattering along 

 the dusty, hot turnpike. 



And now his former rich inheritance 

 of luxurious comfort had returned to 

 him. mysteriouslv disassociated with his 

 mother and brothers. However, the loss 

 of his immediate familv worried him but 

 slightlv, although he had searched con- 

 scientiouslv for them all over the Pel- 



