Beautiful Joe, Marshall Saunders [historical books to read .TXT] 📗

off some of the skin beyond Then he cut off the other ear, and, turning me swiftly round, cut

off my tail close to my body.

 

Then he let me go and stood looking at me as I rolled on the ground and

yelped in agony. He was in such a passion that he did not think that

people passing by on the road might hear me.

 

 

 

 

 

       *       *       *       *       *

 

CHAPTER III (MY KIND DELIVERER AND MISS LAURA)

 

There was a young man going by on a bicycle. He heard my screams and

springing off his bicycle, came hurrying up the path, and stood among us

before Jenkins caught sight of him.

 

In the midst of my pain, I heard him in say fiercely "What have you been

doing to that dog?"

 

"I've been cuttin' his ears for fightin', my young gentleman," said

Jenkins. "There is no law to prevent that, is there?"

 

"And there is no law to prevent my giving you a beating," said the young

man, angrily. In a trice he had seized Jenkins by the throat, and was

pounding him with all his might. Mrs. Jenkins came and stood at the

house door, crying, but making no effort to help her husband.

 

"Bring me a towel," the young man cried to her, after he had stretched

Jenkins, bruised and frightened, on the ground. She snatched off her

apron, and ran down with it, and the young man wrapped me in it, and

taking me carefully in his arms, walked down the path to the gate. There

were some little boys standing there, watching him, their mouths wide

open with astonishment. "Sonny," he said to the largest of them, "if you

will come behind and carry this dog, I will give you a quarter."

 

The boy took me, and we set out. I was all smothered up in a cloth, and

moaning with pain, but still I looked out occasionally to see which way

we were going. We took the road to the town and stopped in front of a

house on Washington Street. The young man leaned his bicycle up against

the house, took a quarter from his pocket and put it in the boy's hand,

and lifting me gently in his arms, went up a lane leading to the back of

the house.

 

There was a small stable there. He went into it, put me down on the

floor and uncovered my body. Some boys were playing about the stable,

and I heard them say, in horrified tones, "Oh, Cousin Harry, what is the

matter with that dog?"

 

"Hush," he said. "Don't make a fuss. You, Jack, go down to the kitchen

and ask Mary for a basin of warm water and a sponge, and don't let your

mother or Laura hear you."

 

A few minutes later, the young man had bathed my bleeding ears and tail,

and had rubbed something on them that was cool and pleasant, and had

bandaged them firmly with strips of cotton. I felt much better and was

able to look about me,

 

I was in a small stable, that was evidently not used for a stable, but

more for a play-room. There were various kinds of toys scattered about

and a swing and bar, such as boys love to twist about on, in two

different corners. In a box against the wall was a guinea pig, looking

at me in an interested way. This guinea pig's name was Jeff, and he and

I became good friends. A long-haired French rabbit was hopping about,

and a tame white rat was perched on the shoulder of one of the boys, and

kept his foothold there, no matter how suddenly the boy moved. There

were so many boys, and the stable was so small, that I suppose he was

afraid he would get stepped on if he went on the floor. He stared hard

at me with his little, red eyes, and never even glanced at a

queer-looking, gray cat that was watching me, too, from her bed in the

back of the vacant horse stall. Out in the sunny yard, some pigeons were

pecking at grain, and a spaniel lay asleep in a corner.

 

I had never seen anything like this before, and my wonder at it almost

drove the pain away. Mother and I always chased rats and birds, and once

we killed a kitten. While I was puzzling over it, one of the boys cried

out, "Here is Laura!"

 

"Take that rag out of the way," said Mr. Harry, kicking aside the old

apron I had been wrapped in, and that was stained with my blood. One of

the boys stuffed it into a barrel, and then they all looked toward the

house.

 

A young girl, holding up one hand to shade her eyes from the sun, was

coming up the walk that led from the house to the stable. I thought then

that I never had seen such a beautiful girl, and I think so still. She

was tall and slender, and had lovely brown eyes and brown hair, and a

sweet smile, and just to look at her was enough to make one love her. I

stood in the stable door, staring at her with all my might.

 

"Why, what a funny dog," she said, and stopped short to looked at me. Up

to this, I had not thought what a queer-looking sight I must be. Now I

twisted round my head, saw the white bandage on my tail, and knowing I

was not a fit spectacle for a pretty young lady like that, I slunk into

a corner.

 

"Poor doggie, have I hurt your feelings?" she said, and with a sweet

smile at the boys, she passed by them and came up to the guinea pig's

box, behind which I had taken refuge. "What is the matter with your

head, good dog?" she said, curiously, as she stooped over me.

 

"He has a cold in it," said one of the boys with a laugh; "so we put a

nightcap on." She drew back, and turned very pale. "Cousin Harry, there

are drops of blood on this cotton. Who has hurt this dog?"

 

"Dear Laura," and the young man coming up, laid his hand on her

shoulder, "he got hurt, and I have been bandaging him."

 

"Who hurt him?"

 

"I had rather not tell you."

 

"But I wish to know." Her voice was as gentle as ever, but she spoke so

decidedly that the young man was obliged to tell her everything. All the

time he was speaking, she kept touching me gently with her fingers. When

he had finished his account of rescuing me from Jenkins, she said,

quietly:

 

"You will have the man punished?"

 

"What is the use? That won't stop him from being cruel."

 

"It will put a check on his cruelty."

 

"I don't think it would do any good," said the young man, doggedly,

 

"Cousin Harry!" and the young girl stood up very straight and tall, her

brown eyes flashing, and one hand pointing at me; "will you let that

pass? That animal has been wronged, it looks to you to right it. The

coward who has maimed it for life should be punished. A child has a

voice to tell its wrong--a poor, dumb creature must suffer in silence;

in bitter, bitter silence. And," eagerly, as the young man tried to

interrupt her, "you are doing the man himself an injustice. If he is bad

enough to ill-treat his dog, he will ill-treat his wife and children. If

he is checked and punished now for his cruelty, he may reform. And even

if his wicked heart is not changed, he will be obliged to treat them

with outward kindness, through fear of punishment"

 

The young man looked convinced, and almost as ashamed as if he had been

the one to crop my ears. "What do you want me to do?" he said, slowly,

and looking sheepishly at the boys who were staring open-mouthed at him

and the young girl.

 

The girl pulled a little watch from her belt. "I want you to report that

man immediately. It is now five o'clock. I will go down to the police

station with you, if you like."

 

"Very well," he said, his face brightening, and together they went off

to the house.

 

 

 

 

 

       *       *       *       *       *

CHAPTER IV (THE MORRIS BOYS ADD TO MY NAME)

The boys watched them out of sight, then one of them, whose name I

afterward learned was Jack, and who came next to Miss Laura in age, gave

a low whistle and said, "Doesn't the old lady come out strong when any

one or anything gets abused? I'll never forget the day she found me

setting Jim on that black cat of the Wilsons. She scolded me, and then

she cried, till I didn't know where to look. Plague on it, how was I

going to know he'd kill the old cat? I only wanted to drive it out of

the yard. Come on, let's look at the dog."

 

They all came and bent over me, as I lay on the floor in my corner. I

wasn't much used to boys, and I didn't know how they would treat me. But

I soon found by the way they handled me and talked to me, that they knew

a good deal about dogs, and were accustomed to treat them kindly. It

seemed very strange to have them pat me, and call me "good dog." No one

had ever said that to me before to-day.

 

"He's not much of a beauty, is he?" said one of the boys, whom they

called Tom.

 

"Not by a long shot," said Jack Morris, with a laugh. "Not any nearer

the beauty mark than yourself, Tom."

 

Tom flew at him, and they had a scuffle. The other boys paid no

attention to them, but went on looking at me. One of them, a little boy

with eyes like Miss Laura's, said, "What did Cousin Harry say the dog's

name was?"

 

"Joe," answered another boy. "The little chap that carried him home told

him."

 

"We might call him 'Ugly Joe' then," said a lad with a round, fat face,

and laughing eyes. I wondered very much who this boy was, and, later on,

I found out that he was another of Miss Laura's brothers, and his name

was Ned. There seemed to be no end to the Morris boys.

 

"I don't think Laura would like that," said Jack Morris, suddenly coming

up behind him. He was very hot, and was breathing fast, but his manner

was as cool as if he had never left the group about me. He had beaten

Tom, who was sitting on a box, ruefully surveying a hole in his jacket.

"You see," he went on, gaspingly, "if you call him 'Ugly Joe,' her

ladyship will say that you are wounding the dear dog's feelings.

'Beautiful Joe,' would be more to her liking."

 

A shout went up from the boys. I didn't wonder that they laughed.

Plain-looking I naturally was; but I must have been hideous in those

bandages.

 

"'Beautiful Joe,' then let it be!" they cried. "Let us go and tell

mother, and ask her to give us something for our beauty to eat."

 

They all trooped out of the stable, and I was very sorry,