“Tramp” 
A Stray Dog, Rescued from the Streets, Proves to Be an Intelligent Animai 
That Knows a Lot About the Ways of Reynard. Then a Classified Ad Gets 
the Finder and Owner Together—Read What Happens 
noon, and after running over the 
headlines to see if there was any- 
thing of importance going on, and find- 
ing it dull, turned idly to the classified 
ad list, and without knowing why, 
this arrested my attention: “Lost: On 
June 10th, one large black and tan 
hound, with white spot in center of 
breast, and very small white spot on 
left hind foot in front, just 
above the inside spur. Answers 
to the name of “Dan.” Reward 
for information or return of 
dog.” Then the address. 
Most families worth talking 
about have a dog of some sort, 
and if they haven’t got orie 
they want one, or ought to have 
one. Two months passed, and 
I had forgotten all about the 
dog, when, riding slowly along 
one day, I heard a racket in the 
yard of a negro house near the 
road and, looking in, saw about 
as poor a specimen of hound 
as I’d ever seen, with his tail 
between his legs, his head down 
and his bared teeth showing 
dangerously out from his half opened 
mouth as he stood at bay, defending 
himself by vicious snaps, from three 
ugly mongrels that had attacked him 
from the yard near by. 
Three to one and, my sympathies be- 
ing aroused, I turned in to help the 
old dog out, when the others, sensing 
a rescue, beat a retreat. As the three 
curs left off and started for the yard, 
the old dog turned toward the road as 
though intending to resume his way, 
but on seeing me stopped as though 
he was wondering whether he had met 
another enemy or not. 
| PICKED up The Journal one after- 
HE poor creature was hardly more 
than the frame of what had been 
a large hound, and as his eye met 
mine in mute appeal, I spoke to him 
kindly, and started toward him intend- 
ing to dismount and pat him on the 
head to reassure him; but at my ap- 
proach he again bared his teeth as a 
silent warning for me to keep off, but 
as I turned toward the road, I turned 
and said, “come on old fellow.” I could 
see surprise in his eyes as he gazed 
after me, but it was evident that he 
By J. Z. MCCONNELL 
was by no means certain as to my 
amiable intentions toward him. 
Hardly had I reached the road, how- 
ever, when the curs dashed out to re- 
sume the attack, and for the second 
time I beat them off. 
This second intervention in his be- 
half seemed to settle the question as 
to my status with him, for on again 
reaching the road and looking back, I 



Lost and Found 
DOG—On June 10th, large black- 
and-tan hound, with white spot in 
center of breast! and very small 
white spot on left hind foot in 
front, just above inside spur. An 
swers to the name of Dan. 
dog. 
DOG—Bo 

Hold- 
saw that he was following me. 
ing my horse down to a walk, I man- 
aged to keep in sight of him, for the 
poor creature seemed hardly able to 
go. It happened that a small country 
store was not far ahead of me, and 
with the intention of getting some- 
thing for the dog to eat, I galloped on, 
leaving him standing there in the road 
watching me as I disappeared from 
view. 
I, too, had forsaken him: he must 
turn once more to his unwelcome visits 
from house to house, to be threatened 
and beaten away by man, or chased 
away by mangy curs that had never 
known the joy of the ringing call of the 
foxhunters’ horn, and, weary and ex- 
hausted from the battle he had just 
passed through, the old dog lay down 
by the side of the road. The hoofbeats 
of my horse roused him from his trou- 
bled slumbers, and he stood there 
watching my approach until he had 
made me out, then a wag of the tail 
and a slight twist of the old frame 
bade me welcome. I waited until he 
had finished the last scrap, and then, 
taking the bridle, walked along slowly 





Re- 
ward for information or return of 
Plowden, care Banner. 




so he could keep up with me if he 
wanted to follow me, or leave me, if 
he wanted to resume his wanderings. 
He did not leave me long in doubt as 
to his decision, for on making sure that 
he had gotten the last scrap, he looked 
after me, twisted his head to one side 
and finally started after me, ambling 
along slowly. 
I happened to be among those who 
wanted a dog, and didn’t have 
one, distemper having passed 
through our section some time 
the preceding winter and 
sweeping most of the dogs out 
of the community, taking two 
from me that I prized very 
highly, and as I did not care to 
steal one, and was not able just 
then to buy one, I made love 
to this poor old stray frame. 
Somehow the looks of the dog, 
poor and disreputable as he 
then appeared, betokened a 
past that had been better, and 
then and there, I decided that 
I’d hold on to him if he’d let 
me, and see if I coulnd’t make 
what he very probably had at 
one time been—a dog. 

And that is how, where, and when 
“Tramp” and I became acquainted; 
nor was it long before those poor old 
bones began to hide themselves beneath 
a layer of weatherboarding, and the 
old rough coat that he‘had on when I 
first saw him began to disappear, to 
be replaced by a new one of glossy 
black. Then it was that one day, while 
feeding him in the back yard, I dis- 
covered something that disturbed me. 
| HAD sat down after feeding him to 
admire his rapidly changing appear- 
ance, and as my eye rested on his fine 
expanding chest, some fine white hairs 
caught my eye. I picked up his left 
hind foot, and there they were too. I 
had the “lost” dog of the classified ad. 
I tried to recall the name of the 
writer of the ad, but I couldn’t. Mind, 
now, I didn’t go and readvertise the 
dog: I wasn’t that anxious to get rid of 
him, nor would my conscience worry 
me very much, I thought, over my man- 
ner of acquisition, for he was to all 
intents and purposes a castaway, and 
he would not, when I took him in 
593 
