i was having a little nap at the back of my cage when i heard a lady’s voice say: “no, thank you, we are just looking about. my little boy wants to see the dogs.”

i pricked up my ears, for i seemed to know that voice, but i couldn’t think whose it was. the lady was out of sight and i waited eagerly for her to reach my cage. and while she was still at the front of the store i heard another voice say, “mother, do you suppose they have any dachshunds?” and my heart just jumped right up into my throat. for the voice was alfred’s! i leaped against the bars and barked and barked, i can tell you! and alfred and his mother heard me and came to see what all the noise meant. and when alfred saw me he cried:

“oh, mother, here’s a dear little dachshund! oh, please may i have him?”

“why, i don’t know, dear,” said his mother. “he is a nice looking dog, isn’t he? are you sure you want him?”

“oh, yes, yes!” said alfred. “really, i do, mother! he looks so much like fritzie, doesn’t he? don’t you think he does?”

alfred put his hand into the cage to pat my head and i licked it and tried to reach his face with my tongue and whined and whined. and alfred’s eyes got rounder and rounder, and suddenly he cried very loudly:

“oh, mother, it is fritzie! it is! it is! he knows me, mother!”

and—oh, well, i don’t remember much about what happened after that for a while! i know the man came and let me out of the cage and i jumped and barked and whined and went on terribly silly, i guess. but you didn’t mind, did you? and then, almost before i knew it, i was snuggled up in—in alfred’s arms in a carriage and we were rattling over the cobblestones at a great rate. and alfred was crying and hugging me and his mother was smiling and crying a little too. i wasn’t, though; not then; i was far too happy to cry!

and then—but you know the rest of my story as well as i do. how the master came up to the city and took me home again and how glad i was to see mother and father and freya and every one else. and how william blew his nose over and over again and seemed to have a very bad cold in his head, and how the baby said “booful dogums!” and hugged me until i had almost no breath left! but there was one thing i don’t think you ever knew about fully, and that was how the brindle bulldog came to be there.

i had been home nearly an hour and was lying in the doorway talking to mother and father and freya, telling them all about what had happened to me while i was away, when a brindled bulldog came trotting up the road. he was a very ugly looking dog and when i saw him i growled. but the others paid no attention to him. as he came nearer he reminded me of some dog i had seen somewhere and so i asked who he was.

“oh,” said mother, “that’s just jim. he came here a month ago and wouldn’t let william drive him away. so he lives here now. he’s a very nice dog. rather coarse in his ways and not much to look at, but good-hearted and kind and a fine fellow to keep watch.”

then i remembered him. he was the dog who had belonged to the man who had stolen me. of course i ran right out and said “bow!” to him and we were very glad to see each other. he told me that after his master had gone away to take me to the city he got[179] to thinking about my home and how fine it would be to live in such a place and have regular meals and be spoken to kindly now and then and he had made up his mind to run away and go there. you see, he thought that as the family had lost me maybe they’d like a dog to take my place. that was quite clever of jim, don’t you think? and so he left his home before his master came back and trotted down the lane and into the big road and so up to the stable.

at first father tried to drive him away and there was quite a rumpus, but jim wouldn’t go. then william tried to drive him away and got after him with the carriage whip. (of course william didn’t hurt him any, because he never would hurt a dog more than was good for him.) and still jim wouldn’t go. so william felt sorry for him then and gave him some food and jim slept outside the stable that night. when william found him there the next day he tried to drive him away again. but jim came right back and so william fixed him up a box in the yard and ever since jim had been one of the family. he told me that he was very happy and that he had never had so much to eat in all his life! the master took a great fancy to jim and jim to the master and they were fine friends. of course the family didn’t know that his name was jim, because he never told them, and so they called him tramp.

it was awfully nice to be back home once more, i can tell you, and mother and father and freya were so glad to see me that they just couldn’t do enough for me. freya hung around so close that she got to be rather a bother! she never got tired of hearing about the wonderful things that had happened to me, and about mouser and prince and, especially, about peaches, the dog who stood on his front legs. even ju-ju seemed glad to have me back. i may be wrong about that, though. cats are queer animals and you can’t tell much about what they’re thinking.

but glad as i was to be back home i was a little sad all the time. i missed alfred a lot. and when, a few weeks later, the family got ready to go to the city for a visit and i learned that i was to go with them i was awfully pleased because i thought that i should see alfred again. and i did, didn’t i? do you remember when the baby brought me in here that morning and said:

“afed, here is kismus present for oo, mild’ed’s booful dogum!”

you were almost as glad as i was, weren’t you?

well, there, that’s all my story. next month we’re going back to see them all, aren’t we? i shall like that. i suppose freya is fatter than ever now. she doesn’t hunt enough. i shall tell mother so, too.

heigho! i think i’m getting sleepy. i have talked a great deal for a dog, and this pillow is very comfy. if you will lean over i’d like to lick your face. then i shall take a nap. but don’t forget to call me when you are ready to go to walk. there’s a squirrel in the park—he lives in the fourth tree after you go through the big gate—and he made a face at me yesterday ... or was it the day before? anyway, ... he ought ... to be taught ... manners....