there were no more dog shows for us that summer, although father and mother went to one in august and father came back with three blue ribbons and mother with a blue and two reds. father had beaten champion hillside carl quite easily and was very proud for several days and mother trotted her feet off finding bones for him.

it was just after the show that alfred and his mother came to visit us again, and i was awfully glad to see him. he had grown a good deal since the summer before. but then i had grown too and he said he would scarcely have known me! i don’t know which of us was gladder to see him, the baby or i. we had some fine times in the next two weeks. we hunted squirrels in the orchard and had picnics in the woods and played all sorts of games. but we didn’t look for indians in the swamp, i can tell you!

alfred liked me best of all the dogs and one evening he came down to the kennel after it was dark and carried me to the house and took me to bed with him and i slept there all night curled up in his arms. in the morning we had a fine romp when we woke up, but i guess we must have made too much noise, for nurse heard us and came in and said, “why, master alfred, wherever did you get that dog? put him right off the bed this very instant!”

nurse had left the door open and so i ran out as hard as i could and down the stairs. it wasn’t my fault that delia was coming up just then with a tray of toast and coffee for alfred’s mother, was it? besides, she might have seen me if she had been looking. she didn’t, though, and i was in a great hurry and tried to run between her feet. i was almost at the bottom of the stairs when i heard the tray fall, and a piece of toast came rolling down after me. i thought it best not to stop for it, however, although i am very fond of buttered toast. fortunately, william was shining the brass knocker on the front door and i was able to get out without more trouble.

i went right down to the stable and got behind the flower-pots and stayed there until the middle of the forenoon, but nothing happened, and so, when i heard alfred whistling, i came out. william was there, too, and when i saw him i laid down on my back and put my feet up. but he only laughed.

“don’t be letting delia get hold of you to-day,” he said. “keep away from the kitchen, fritzie, my boy.”

and then he and alfred both looked at each other and laughed again, and alfred and i found the baby and freya and went down to the brook and waded. when i saw delia she had a piece of white cloth tied around her head. i don’t know why she did it, because it didn’t make her look any prettier.

after that alfred took me to bed with him several times and i liked it a lot. and nurse didn’t say a thing when she found me there. delia and i made it up and were good friends again in a day or two. and then it came time for alfred to go back to the city and i felt very sad and lonesome. so did the baby, and she and i used to sit together in the hammock on the piazza and talk about alfred and wish him back again. i was a great comfort to the baby, i’m sure.

i was a year and a half old that autumn, which, for a dog, is quite grown-up, you know. when i did anything silly mother would say: “remember, fritz, you are no longer a puppy.” it was hard to do that, though, and i was just as fond of play as ever. but, of course, i had grown much more sensible and wise. experience is a great teacher. i heard father say that once, and i guess it must be so. i didn’t get into scrapes any more; at least, not many. i did dig a hole under the stable one day and then couldn’t get out again until william had taken some of the stones out of the wall. but that was because i didn’t know that the ground under the stable was so much lower than it was outside. it was rather a jolly place down there and i think there were rats there, but i was too frightened when i found i couldn’t get out again to do any hunting. and after that william put a stone where i’d gone in and i was never able to get back to make sure.

and then there was another scrape, too, which was quite the worst i ever got into. i shall not forget that very soon, i can tell you! it happened that october and this was the way of it.

freya cared less for hunting and running around than ever that fall and so i used to go about a good deal alone. sometimes father would take me to look for foxes, but that wasn’t very often, and we never found any. and sometimes jack and i would go for a run together. it wasn’t much fun for him, though, because my legs were so short that he had to wait for me to catch up to him every little while. so very often i went alone. i didn’t mind. there is so much to see if you use your eyes and so much to smell if you use your nose. and there are lots of nice things to listen to, besides. like the songs that the birds sing and the whispers the breezes make in the trees and the chattering of the squirrels and chipmunks and so many, many other sounds. there are lots of wonderful and interesting things in the world, and a dog who is treated kindly and has a nice home to live in has a very good time. the nice home has a lot to do with a dog’s happiness, as i found out when i didn’t have one.

one nice sunny day, when the leaves on the trees were all yellow and red and were fluttering down, i found myself on the road that passes our gate. i had been chasing a chipmunk. he ran along on top of the wall and the fence, making a funny little squeaky noise, and every time i got near him he would give a long jump and get away again. and sometimes he would run down to the ground and hide and i’d have to hunt him out. when i lost him finally in a hole that went down under the stone wall i was nearly half a mile from home and there was a man walking toward me along the road.

he didn’t look quite like a nice man and i started to trot away from him. but he called to me in a kind voice and so i stopped and looked back. and when i looked he stooped and held something toward me in his hand and it had a very good smell. william doesn’t give us raw meat except once in a great while when we aren’t feeling very well, but i knew the smell of it and i knew that it was raw meat that the man wanted to give me. i was hungry and so i thought it over and decided that if he really didn’t want the meat himself i might as well have it.

but i was a little bit afraid and didn’t go right up to him. he tossed a piece toward me and i went back and got it and it surely tasted awfully nice. then he tossed me another piece and i ate that, and almost before i knew it i was eating the rest of the meat out of his hand and he was patting me and saying “good dog.” and then he slipped a piece of string through the new collar that the master had bought me with the money i had won at the dog show and when i tried to turn around and go home he wouldn’t let me! instead of that he pulled me down the road right in the opposite direction. at first i went along without any fuss, but when we got farther and farther away i began to pull back and whine. then he got very angry with me and when he saw i would not go unless he pulled me he called me names and kicked me!

i had never been kicked before and it frightened me even more than it hurt, and it hurt a good deal. i yelped and tried to run away then, but the string held me, and every time i sat down and wouldn’t walk he kicked me with his boot. i soon saw that if i didn’t want to be kicked i must go with him, and so i went. but i was awfully frightened and i wanted to bite him but didn’t dare to. pretty soon we came to a cross road which was winding and narrow and we turned into that and walked and walked for the longest way before we came to a house. it was a very small house and it needed paint and the yard in front was dirty and untidy. and when we went through[152] the gate a horrid ugly big bulldog came running toward us, barking and growling. but the man kicked him too, and the bulldog howled and ran into a shed near the house.