The Dogs of Boytown. Dyer Walter Alden

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СКАЧАТЬ with all that stuff?" she asked him.

      "My dear," replied Mr. Whipple, "you may not believe it, but it is just as much good as arithmetic and geography, and you're always worrying because they don't take more interest in those things. There are more ways than one to get an education."

      But Mrs. Whipple only shook her head perplexedly.

      It was on the day before Christmas that the great event occurred that I have been leading up to. Ernest and Jack Whipple had returned from an hour's coasting on the long hill over by the brickyard and were standing on their sleds beside the front gate bemoaning the fact that the snow had melted so badly and speculating on the surprises which the morrow might have in store for them. It was vacation, and they were considering how best to spend the long hours that would intervene between dinner and time for lighting up the Christmas tree, when Ernest stopped abruptly in the middle of a sentence and stood looking up the street.

      "Jack!" he exclaimed. "Look who's coming!"

      Jack turned and beheld the familiar, lanky figure and long, easy stride of Sam Bumpus. Both boys set up a yell and started on a run up the street.

      "Merry Christmas, Sam!" they cried. "Merry Christmas!"

      "Merry Christmas, men," replied Sam, grinning.

      One on each side of him, they escorted Sam down the street.

      "Have you come to see us?" inquired Ernest.

      "Why, no," said Sam. "I came to see the President of the United States, but I found he wasn't in town, so I thought I'd drop in on you. You haven't seen anything of him around here, have you?"

      The boys laughed delightedly; they had come to understand Sam's kind of joking.

      "Well, you must come into our shack," said Ernest. "We'll introduce you to mother, and father will be home soon."

      "Well, I don't know as I'll exactly go in," replied Sam, doubtfully. "Maybe your mother ain't asked to be interduced to me. Anyway, I can talk better outside."

      "Where's Nan?" asked Jack.

      "I left her home, doin' up the dishes in the kitchen," said Sam. "The city don't agree with Nan. It don't agree with me much, either. I won't stop but a minute."

      "Aw, come on in," pleaded Ernest.

      But Sam shook his head. "No," said he, "I just want to show you something, and then I must be goin'. Can't we go over to the barn?"

      "Sure," said the boys, and led the way to the stable in the yard that was now used only as a tool house and garage.

      "We'll show you our carpenter shop," said Ernest.

      But Sam did not stop long to examine the carpenter shop. There was something very mysterious about his attitude which aroused the boys' curiosity to top pitch.

      "Come over here," said Sam, stepping toward an unused stall.

      He began fumbling in his capacious pockets, and the boys crowded close about him, expecting to see some unusual sort of game he had shot. Suddenly before their astonished eyes there appeared two fuzzy, dappled puppies, running and sniffing about the floor of the stall.

      "Puppies!" cried the boys in unison.

      "Yep," said Sam. "English setter puppies."

      "Where did you get them?" demanded Jack, catching up one of the sprawling little dogs in his arms.

      "Nellie gave them to me," said Sam.

      A look of comprehension began to dawn in Ernest's eyes. "So that's why you wouldn't let us go near her kennel last time we were there," said he. "She had them all the time."

      Sam grinned. "They're pretty young to take away from their mother," said he, "but she has three more. She's a good mother, Nellie is. You ought to see her chase the other dogs away. I had a job of it gettin' these two weaned before Christmas."

      "Why did you have to get them weaned before Christmas?" asked Jack.

      "Now you jest think that over, and see if you can tell me," said Sam.

      Ernest had already half guessed the wonderful truth, but he didn't yet dare to say what he thought.

      "Don't be afraid of 'em," said Sam. "They won't bite – or leastways, not serious. Besides, they're your own dogs."

      "Our own dogs?" gasped Jack in astonishment, the glad light beginning to break in upon him.

      "Sure," said Sam. "What else would they be here for? I thought Santa Claus might happen to forget you, and so I brought 'em down."

      "Oh!" cried Ernest. "Christmas presents! To be our very own dogs! I guess none of the other boys will have such fine presents as these, Jack."

      But Jack was speechless with joy.

      "Have they got names?" asked Ernest.

      "Sure," said Sam. "I told you how I name all my dogs with names beginning with the same letter. All my own puppies, I mean. It's for good luck. There's Rex, you know, and Robbin and Rockaway. These two are Romulus and Remus and they're twins. This one with the black ear is Romulus, and this one with the little map of Africa on his side is Remus. That's how you can tell 'em apart."

      "Which is mine and which is Ernest's?" inquired Jack, at last finding his voice.

      "Well, now, I hadn't thought of that," confessed Sam. "Suppose you draw lots for 'em. Here, I'll hold these two broom straws so you can't tell which is longest. You each draw one, and the one that gets the longest straw can have first choice of the puppies. Is that fair?"

      The boys agreed to the plan and drew the straws. Ernest's proved to be the longer one.

      "Well, he's older, anyway," said Jack. "Which one do you choose, Ernest?"

      "I'll take Romulus," said Ernest promptly, having noted that the one with the black ear was a shade the larger of the two.

      "All right," said Jack, "and Remus is mine." And he asserted stoutly that he would have chosen Remus anyway.

      "That's good," said Sam. "Then you're both satisfied. Grown people would have made more fuss about it, I'll warrant you.

      "Well, I must be steppin' along," he continued. "Take good care of the puppies, because they're valuable. Remember that they're used to sleepin' close to a warm mother and see that they have a good bed. I'd put some rags in a box for 'em if I was you. Let 'em have fresh air and sunshine and a chance to stretch their legs, but don't let 'em get wet or chilled through and put their bed where they ain't no draughts. Remember they ain't got their warm coats yet.

      "Give 'em a saucer of milk with the chill taken off, six times a day, and break a little bread into it at supper time. In a few weeks you can cut down to three meals a day, with more solid food, but I'll be down to see you before then, if you don't get up to see me, and I'll tell you just how to manage. Let me know if you have any trouble of any kind, but I guess you won't."

      The clicking of the front gate announced the return of Mr. Whipple to his noonday meal. The boys ran to the stable door and shouted, "Father! Oh, father, come see what we've got for Christmas!"

      They dashed toward him and dragged him by main force to the stable. But СКАЧАТЬ