35 



Though Jerry was so bold, there were some 

 things of which he was afraid. He was a perfect 

 coward in a thunderstorm. At the first distant peal 

 of thunder he always showed signs of fear. As the 

 storm came nearer he would rush upstairs and hide 

 under a bed. There he would lie trembling until 

 the storm was over, and the last low mutterlngs 

 had died away in the distance. 



Then he would crawl out looking thoroughly 

 ashamed of himself. The next storm would frighten 

 him just as much. 



He was afraid of strange things that he could 

 not understand. 



One day a newspaper and an old hat had been 

 thrown out beside the pump. Jerry was trotting 

 through the yard when he saw them. He did not 

 know what they were. He stopped short with a 

 low growl. The hair on his back rose. 



Just then the wind stirred this hat, and some 

 one rattled the latch of the alley gate. He could 

 not stand that. He turned tail and ran back to the 

 kitchen as fast as he could go. 



Though the dog was gentle with his master and 

 the family, he was so fierce with other people that 

 it did not seem right to keep him in the city. A 



