Front Cover
 Front Matter
 Title Page
 Table of Contents
 "Who buys?"
 A new home
 The laundry
 Fun and mischief
 What became of the doll
 The grandmother's slipper
 Settling a quarrel
 In prison and out
 Lost and found
 The dancing school
 A musical ear
 New tricks
 Little Minna
 The birthday party
 The wheel of fortune
 Off again
 A street beggar
 In a cage
 A new master
 A new sorrow
 More dreams
 The end
 Back Cover

Group Title: Captain Fritz : his friends and adventures
Title: Captain Fritz
Full Citation
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00035141/00001
 Material Information
Title: Captain Fritz his friends and adventures
Physical Description: iv, 128 p., 28 leaves of plates : ill. ; 21 cm.
Language: English
Creator: Miller, Emily Huntington, 1833-1913
E. P. Dutton (Firm)
Publisher: Dutton,
Place of Publication: New York
Publication Date: 1877
Copyright Date: 1877
Subject: Dogs -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Children's stories   ( lcsh )
Juvenile literature -- 1877   ( rbgenr )
Publishers' catalogues -- 1877   ( rbgenr )
Bldn -- 1877
Genre: Juvenile literature   ( rbgenr )
Publishers' catalogues   ( rbgenr )
non-fiction   ( marcgt )
Spatial Coverage: United States -- New York -- New York
Statement of Responsibility: by Emily Huntington Miller.
General Note: Includes 8 p. publisher's catalog.
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00035141
Volume ID: VID00001
Source Institution: University of Florida
Holding Location: University of Florida
Rights Management: All rights reserved by the source institution and holding location.
Resource Identifier: notis - AHL5748
oclc - 02387176
alephbibnum - 001591745

Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Front Cover 1
        Front Cover 2
    Front Matter
        Front Matter
    Title Page
        Page i
        Page ii
    Table of Contents
        Page iii
        Page iv
        Page 5
        Page 6
        Page 6a
        Page 7
        Page 8
        Page 9
    "Who buys?"
        Page 10
        Page 11
        Page 12
        Page 13
        Page 14
        Page 15
    A new home
        Page 16
        Page 17
        Page 18
        Page 18a
        Page 19
        Page 20
        Page 20a
    The laundry
        Page 21
        Page 22
        Page 23
        Page 24
        Page 24a
        Page 25
        Page 26
        Page 27
        Page 28
        Page 28a
        Page 29
        Page 30
    Fun and mischief
        Page 31
        Page 32
        Page 32a
        Page 33
        Page 34
    What became of the doll
        Page 35
        Page 36
        Page 37
        Page 38
        Page 38a
        Page 39
    The grandmother's slipper
        Page 40
        Page 41
        Page 42
        Page 42a
    Settling a quarrel
        Page 43
        Page 44
        Page 44a
        Page 45
    In prison and out
        Page 46
        Page 46a
        Page 47
        Page 48
        Page 49
        Page 50
        Page 51
        Page 52
        Page 52a
        Page 53
    Lost and found
        Page 54
        Page 55
        Page 56
        Page 56a
        Page 57
        Page 58
        Page 59
        Page 60
        Page 61
        Page 62
        Page 62a
        Page 63
    The dancing school
        Page 64
        Page 64a
        Page 65
        Page 66
        Page 67
        Page 68
    A musical ear
        Page 69
        Page 70
        Page 70a
        Page 71
        Page 72
    New tricks
        Page 73
        Page 74
        Page 74a
        Page 75
        Page 76
        Page 77
    Little Minna
        Page 78
        Page 78a
        Page 79
        Page 80
        Page 81
    The birthday party
        Page 82
        Page 83
        Page 84
        Page 85
        Page 86
        Page 86a
        Page 87
        Page 88
        Page 88a
        Page 89
        Page 90
    The wheel of fortune
        Page 91
        Page 92
        Page 92a
        Page 93
        Page 94
    Off again
        Page 95
        Page 96
        Page 96a
        Page 97
        Page 98
    A street beggar
        Page 99
        Page 100
        Page 100a
        Page 101
        Page 102
        Page 103
    In a cage
        Page 104
        Page 105
        Page 106
        Page 106a
        Page 107
    A new master
        Page 108
        Page 109
        Page 110
        Page 110a
        Page 111
        Page 112
        Page 113
    A new sorrow
        Page 114
        Page 115
        Page 116
        Page 116a
        Page 117
    More dreams
        Page 118
        Page 118a
        Page 119
        Page 120
        Page 121
        Page 122
        Page 122a
        Page 123
        Page 124
    The end
        Page 125
        Page 126
        Page 127
        Page 128
        Page 129
        Page 130
        Page 131
        Page 132
        Page 133
        Page 134
        Page 135
        Page 136
    Back Cover
        Page 137
        Page 138
        Page 139
Full Text

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CAPT. FRITZ AND THE MAGPIE,-Page 126. Frontispiece.



Author of "What Tommy Did," "Royal Road to Fortune," etc.

713 Broadway


VI. DREAMS, .. 27






AM the dog who lives at the Cemetery of St.
Angelo. Visitors always notice me as I sit at
the door of my house, and I hear them say, "What a
beautiful dog! He must be of a very great age!"


It is quite true. Since my mother died I am the
very oldest dog in the world, and my friend the mag-
pie has advised me to publish the story of my life.
The magpie is a very wise bird. He has lived many
years at the rectory of St. Angelo, and has a nest in
the belfry of the church. He can also read and write,
but that is a secret. He learned it from a sermon
which he found one day lying upon a table. He
carried it away to his nest and studied it for two
years, so now he knows quite as much as the rector.
I am sure every one must remember the time
when I was born, on account of a very remarkable
circumstance. It was entirely dark for nine days. A
very conceited young puppy once told me that the
same thing happened when he was born, but this is a
clear falsehood, for I was living at the time in the
next street, and nothing of the sort took place. My
friend the magpie has heard learned men at the rec-
tory talking about this time, and he says there are
even books written about it. It is called the Dark
Ages. I was born, then, in the Dark Ages.
The first person with whom I became acquainted
was my mother. She was very large and beautiful,



and she was called Lady. A man who used to bring
her a basin of bread and milk every morning called
her so. My mother was very kind, and took excellent
care of me, though there were three little dogs that
were always getting in the way and made her a
great deal of trouble. They were not at all like my
mother. They had rough, woolly bodies, and short
legs, with large, round feet, and were very ugly and
My mother was very proud of me, and began
at once to train me; and when I was only two weeks
old, the man who brought her breakfast took me up
in his hand and said, "This little fellow is the pick
of the lot. He will sell for a pretty penny. He
must be taught to eat." From that time he began
to teach me, also, and I soon learned to stand with"
my feet in the basih of cool milk and drink. The
most convenient way to drink milk is to put your feet
in the basin, but I have learned since then that it is
not considered the proper thing in polite society.
One day, when the man fed us, a little boy came
with him. He gave me something nice and sweet
from his pocket, and then he carried me to another


house, where a lady sat rocking a cradle. He put me
in the lady's lap, and said:
See, mamma, this is the little chap we shall sell
to buy the baby some medicine. He is the very
prettiest of them all."
The lady smiled a very little, and my mother came
and laid her head on her knee. The baby's mother
stroked her head softly, and said, "Poor Lady! I
wonder if you care for your babies as I do for mine.
I wonder if it breaks your heart to lose them! "
The thing they called a baby was very small and
white. It had no hair,'and it made a little weak noise,
as if something hurt it.
The boy made a loud, strong noise when he
talked and when he laughed. He squeezed me too
tight in his hands, and he even put me in his pocket,
and whistled to my mother to come home again.
After that the boy often took me out, but my
mother always followed him and watched me every
minute. It was much pleasanter in the house where
the baby lived. Our house was called a barn and had
no windows, but in the baby's house the sun shone,
and there were swinging things in the windows, and


baskets of round things that would roll about the
floor when you upset them, and such delicious smells
of meat and gravy. It seemed very dull to go back
to the dark little corner, with only a few straws for
playthings, and no company but those fat little dogs.
But in a few weeks my adventures began.

"' .,,_


_ ..5--- --.



NE morning, before it was light, the
boy came to bring us our breakfast,
and while my mother was eating he
took me in his arms and walked
away. My mother followed a few steps, but he
said, "No, no, Lady, you must stay at home;
this little chap is going to see the world."
He shut the door of our house and I heard my
mother crying inside, but the boy seemed to think it
,of no consequence.


"She'll forget all about you in a couple of days,"
he said, pulling my ears; it would be very different
now with my mother if the baby should go, but then,
babies are of more consequence."
I should like to know why a little weak creature
that cannot run or walk, or even bark, should be worth
more than a dog with four feet that can run all day,
and jump clear over his mother when she takes her
nap on the straw. Even the magpie does not know
that, but he says that when people say a thing for a
great many years it becomes a fact. So this is a
fact. Facts do not need to be explained.
The man and the boy took me to a place called a
market. A great many people were coming and
going, and the boy held me in his arms so that every
one could see me. The man had radishes to sell and
lettuce, and the people who bought often had dogs
with them. The dogs always spoke to me, some of
them very civilly, and one small brown dog offered to
show me where there was something very delicious to
eat; but the boy held me tight, and I could not get
away. I should like to know what became of that
brown dog. When the radishes were sold, the man


took me up in his hand and began to offer me to the
people, but most of them had their baskets filled, and
went by very quickly, scarcely looking at me. The
first who stopped was the butcher's boy. He had on
a coat and a fine hat, but I knew it was the butcher's
boy by his red eyes, and his hairy face, and his dread-
ful voice. He took me by the back of the neck, and
held me up before his face, and I knew if my master
turned his head, he would swallow me in a minute, for
my mother told me so, when he once looked into the
door of our house and frightened her into spasms.
He said, "How much do you want for this little
whiffet ? "
"Ten dollars, if the gentleman pleases," said my
master, very politely.
"Ten dollars! you must be joking. Why, I could
have my pick of twenty grown dogs for five."
"But the gentleman sees this is no common dog.
This is a French poodle-a performing dog; he can
be taught all manner of tricks."
What do I want of a performing dog? I want a
dog to keep the rats out of my cellar and the mice
out of my flour."

"WHO BUYS?" 13

He gave me a little shake and tossed me back to
my master. I curled down as close as I could, and
fairly trembled with fright.
The next that stopped was a little girl. She had
a sweet voice and a sweet face-the very sweetest
face in the world. Her name was Elsie. She was
singing when she came along, making a little noise
just to herself, and when she saw me she said,
Oh, the lovely little dog May I see him-may
I take him in my arms ? "
My master put me in her arms, and she patted
me and hugged me. Her coat was very soft, much
softer than my master's or the boy's, and when she
talked to me I forgot all about my mother and the
little dogs and our house.
"Will the little lady buy the pretty dog? asked
my master.
Oh, will you sell him? I wonder if grandmother
would buy him. I suppose he is worth a great deal
of money! "
Only ten dollars. That is very little for such a
The grandmother came along presently. Her


voice was very pleasant, and when she took me in
her hands it was like being on a cushion or in the
baby's cradle.
But she shook her head when she heard what I
was worth. "Ten dollars for a mischievous little
puppy! It was not to be thought of! "
But madame sees this is a most valuable dog-
a performing dog; he can be taught to do every-
thing-almost to talk. His mother is celebrated.
Madame must have heard of Lady, the dog who
astonished every one with her tricks, and was so
unfortunate as to lame her shoulder while exhibiting
in Paris. This is one of Lady's puppies-the very
pick of the lot. He would be worth his weight
in gold if he were trained."
Madame only made a funny little noise, and shook
her head, but not so much as before.
"Buy him for my birthday, Grandmother," said
Elsie. You said I might choose, and I choose this
lovely little dog."
"And the party, and the ring, and the locket, and
the silk dress! Will you have this little good-for-
nothing rather than any of them ?


Yes," said Elsie, "I choose the dog;" and she
snatched me up in her arms and danced away, but
came back in a minute to say to the boy,
"Is it your pet? Will you be very sorry to have
it sold?"
"Oh, no, I shall be very glad," said the boy.
"The money is to buy medicine for the baby. The
baby is sick, and babies are worth much more than
"That is true, I suppose," said Elsie; and her
grandmother nodded at the boy as if she thought
him very wise, and said:
"Since the money is for the sick baby I do not
so much mind paying it; and then they went away.
Elsie held me in her arms, and promised me a
great many beautiful things as we went along, but the
grandmother paid no attention to either of us, only
she smiled a little when Elsie said:
"I have named my dear little doggie, Grand-
mother. I have called him Felix. Felix means for-
tunate and happy."





',rO0 now I was Felix the Fortunate. To
i '* begin with, it was very grand to have a
;t name of my own, and then if you could
,_ have seen my house! The one where
the baby lived was nothing at all to it;
S I think you could almost have put it in
one of the rooms. There was a very large yard
for me to play in, all covered with green grass;
except in some places where there were beautiful
flowers. Flowers are not good to eat, and they


make you sneeze when you smell of them, but
the ground where they grow is very soft and nice to
dig in, and it is great fun to make deep holes in it,
and bury bones until they are tender and delicious.
There was a fountain in the yard; not a large
fountain like the one here at St. Angelo, where it
always rains, but a. small one, with a man standing in
the middle who spilled the water out of a pitcher set
upon his head. Sometimes the pitcher was empty;
then, of course, the water did not spill out. The first
room into which Elsie carried me was very long, and
had flowers all over the floor and steps leading up
into the sky. There were pictures hanging in rooms
all along the sides. I had never seen any pictures,
and I thought these were people. They all looked at
me, and when Elsie put me down, I was afraid. Then
she opened another door, and said, Come, Felix! "
I did not come. I did not know how. So she
carried me again in her arms. This room was even
better than the other. It had cushions and soft rugs
lying about on the floor, and there was a fire burning
in the grate. The best thing in the world is to lie on
a soft rug before a fire. There were two things in


that room I did not like. One was a cat. I hate cats !
I had never seen one before, but I knew I hated it as
soon as I smelled it. It had feet and a tail and gray
fur and yellow eyes, and it lay on a cushion-a velvet
cushion. Elsie held me close beside it.
"See, Gipsey," she said, "this is my new pet-my
dear, beautiful Felix; you must be very good friends.
He is so clever I shall teach him everything. I wanted
to teach you, but you are too lazy and handsome."
Gipsey stretched out her paws, and opened her
mouth in a fearful way. She had claws much sharper
than mine, and strong white teeth. As for promising
to be friends, I did not say anything, but I had my own
opinion about it.
The other thin- was a kind of bird. It was large
and green, and had a very wicked look. It was called
Coco, and it laughed and talked. It talked like the
old woman at the crossing who has lost her teeth. It
had a nose like hers, too. It whistled to me, and said,
"Here, you rascal! Oh, get out! get out!"
The grandmother lived in this room. She said,
"You must watch your little dog, Elsie. I cannot
allow him to come in here if he dis-turbs Gipsey."




Oh, Felix will not trouble Gipsey," said Elsie,
giving me a hug. "They shall be the best of friends."
Gipsey winked at me, and said with her tail,
"Just let me get a chance at you, my dear friend."
And I wrinkled up my nose, and answered,
"I'm ready for you, as soon as my eye-teeth are
Neither the grandmother nor Elsie heard anything
.of this, but Gipsey and I understood each other very
well, and so did the bird with the crooked nose, for
he laughed, and screamed,
"Ho! ho! you'll catch it, you'll catch it!" Elsie
laid me in a cushioned chair and went away. I was
very tired, but I was hungry, too, and I was glad
enough when she came back with a large basket, and
a dish of sweet, new milk. Ah, how delicious it was.
I drank and drank without stopping to breathe, and
held the dish quite still with my feet, so that I need
not spill a drop. Then I took a little run on the soft
purple rug, and came back for another drink. Elsie
was bringing a cushion for my basket, but the grand-
mother saw me, and called out,
"See what mischief your dog is doing. He must


not be fed in here; he will ruin everything. Take
him to the laundry! It is much the best place for him,
and a basket of straw is better than a cushion for the
Elsie begged, and even cried, but the grandmother
would not hear a word. She said,,
He is only a little beggar, my dear; the laundry
will be no hardship to him, and when you have made
him a gentleman I shall be happy to see him."
So Elsie carried me away.






I-JE laundry had a stone floor
that was very cold, and there
was no one to amuse me, but
I had a basket of soft straw
,to lie in, and instead of a basin
of bread and milk once a day, my dish was kept al-
ways full. I had nothing to do but eat and sleep, and
Elsie came very often to see me. Sometimes she
took me into the other rooms, and sometimes out-of-
doors to play. A very large dog lived in the yard.
He had a house all to himself, and he wore a beau-
tiful collar about his neck, with a long chain fastened
to it. The other end of the chain was fastened to


his house. I suppose that was to keep the house
from being stolen. He looked very pleasant, but
Elsie never let me go near enough to speak to him.
She said he would snap me up like a fly. Once
we went on a visit, to see a woman who had been
Elsie's nurse. The house was very small, and there
were a great many people in it. I have often noticed
that small houses have a great many people in them,
and large houses only a few. That seems to me very
strange, but no one knows the reason, not even the
magpie. There was a baby at this house. It did not
lie in a cradle, but sat upon the floor. Elsie brought
it a cake. I know it was a very nice cake, for I ate it
up when nobody was looking. The baby cried, but
nobody knew what ailed it. There was a cat there,
too, a very small cat, and I chased it out at the
door. It jumped in at a little window, without stop-
ing to see that there was a pan of milk in the way. I
think some of the milk was spilled, but I did not go in
to see.
Afterward I found the baby's shoe under a chair.
It was great fun to gnaw it, and I was sorry when
Elsie called me away; but she took me to a store,


where I met the jolliest little black dog. He was
sitting by the door, and he winked at me to let me
know he had something to tell me. He lived at a
restaurant, and slept outside on the door-mat. Every
night when the moon shone the dogs in that street had
a party. He invited me to come, and I did not like
to tell him that the laundry door was always locked.
I thought he was very amusing, but Elsie called him
a cur. She said, "Come away, Felix; you must not
stop to play with a dirty little cur." The magpie
says a cut is a dog who does not have his break-
fast brought to him in a dish, but finds it himself,
wherever he can. If one could always find plenty
to eat it would be very pleasant to be a cur.
When we got home we went into the grand-
mother's room, and I lay on the purple rug before
the fire, and slept. The cat was not there, but the
bird kept saying, "Oh, get out! get out, you rascal!"
He was speaking to the grandmother, but she did
not take any notice of him.

shut into the laundry,
but went wherever I pleased
over the whole house-that
is, if the doors were left open.
"The grandmother always shut
the doors, but Elsie never did, and there were new
places to examine every day. The room I liked best
was the one where the people of the house were fed,



but this room was usually locked. Then there was
another with very soft rugs all over the floor, and one
day I saw a little dog in there. He looked like the
three little dogs at home, and he was running along
to meet me, when Judy, the maid, drove me out of
the room. I was determined to get in again, and I
watched a good many days for a chance, until Judy
went in and set the windows open. Sure enough,
there was a little dog behind a kind of window. I
ran to meet him, and he tried to come to me; but
something was in the way, and he could not get out.
He was a very saucy fellow, and he mocked me all
the time, doing whatever I did. If I could have
bitten him I should have been very glad, but Judy
only laughed and drove me away.
I have often seen windows like this since then.
There was one in the grandmother's room, and an-
other which Elsie lived behind, and Gipsey the cat, and
a grandmother. The little dog came there, too, but I
never saw the bird. The magpie says these things
are our shadows, that creep around after us all day.
They live in houses behind these windows, and do
exactly what we do; only at night, when we are


asleep, they can talk and do as they please. When
we dream we only see these shadow-people and what
they do, and we think it is ourselves. Often, when I
have been very hungry, I have dreamed of a delicious
bone, and just as I was about to eat it I would wake
and find the shadow-dog had run away with it.
In the next house there were two little children,
and they were afraid of me. I could not get through
the fence, but I could race up and down upon my own
side, and it was such fun to frighten them, almost as
good as chasing the hens. Hens make a funny noise
when you chase them, but they can fly, and so it soon
comes to an end. Elsie scolded me for barking at
the children, but I did not hurt them, and I am sure
they made a much louder noise. The one with long
yellow hair blew on a trumpet, and a trumpet always
makes me angry. It makes me howl, though I never
knew the reason until yesterday, when the band
played in the cemetery. The magpie says it is my
nerves, and that all great people have nerves, though
he does not know exactly what they are for.




SELDOM saw the cat in those days.
Elsie made me a great cushion to
sleep on, and it lay in her own room,
by a window. It was large and soft,
and had tassels at the corners, though
I soon pulled them off gnawing at them. She went
to a place they called a school, and every day she
used to bring me cakes and candy in her pocket.
She began to teach me, and I had sometimes to
sit up and beg until my back ached, and to practise
all sorts of tricks.


She never whipped me, but when I was very good
she would give me a bit of cake. She told me I
was to perform for her brother when he came home at
the holidays, and she expected me to learn to spell by
picking out cards with letters on them. I made up
my mind I never would do it, but if Elsie had known
how performing dogs are trained, she might soon
have taught me. They are not trained with cake and
candy, but with a whip, and if the children who laugh
so much at our funny tricks could see this part of
the work, it would not please them so well. I learned
a great many other tricks that Elsie knew nothing
about. I found out how to open the door, and how
to reach things on the table by pulling at the corner
of the cloth.
Once I went in the maid's room and took a nap
in a nice round box. It had something in the bottom
that scratched, but after I shook it very hard, and
trampled it down, it did not trouble me. Judy was
very angry and whipped me. She said the thing in
the box was a bonnet, and that I had spoiled it. I
only ate one little piece that tickled my nose. This
was the time when I began to have dreams, and for a

DREAMS.-Page 28.


long time they troubled me very much. When I lay
sleeping on my cushion my mother and the three lit-
tle dogs often came to see me. I took them all over
the house, even into the grandmother's room, and the
cat was so afraid of my mother's great teeth, that
she did not dare come out from under the sofa. I
took them into the kitchen, and the cook had a plate
of soup and meat ready for us; but just as we took
the first taste, I always waked up, and I was on my
cushion all alone. Then sometimes I dreamed of our
old house, and had such fun racing about in the cor-
ners with the three little dogs. There were little
bright streaks of sunshine that came in at the cracks,
and we would try to pick them up in our mouths, but
get nothing. And then we would roll over and over
on the straw, and my mother would tell us stories of
what had happened to her when she was taken about
as a performing dog. Then when I waked again it
made me more sorrowful than ever to find myself all
alone. What made it worse was that I was always
hungry. No matter how much they fed me, I never
had enough, and I hunted all sorts of things to chew.
I ate up one of Elsie's gloves, and half of her reader;


but she never told anybody, and one day I found the
box where she kept the letters she was trying to teach
me, and I chewed them all up and dropped the pieces
through a kind of grate in the corner of the room.

.1 1, ,
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""' .. ....



-{^S"NE day there was to be a feast. Elsie's
Spapa was coming, and the cook was so
busy preparing for the grand dinner
she quite forgot to give me any break-
fast. Even Elsie forgot me, as she went dancing
and singing about the house, but just as I was run-
O--- d ."x---- -


ning out to see if I could pick up a bit in the back
yard, Judy pounced upon me and carried me away to
the laundry. There was a great tub full of water, and
in spite of all I could do, she dipped me into it, and
rubbed and scrubbed me with some dreadful stuff
until I was nearly drowned. I tlmught Elsie would
pity me, but she only laughed, and said,
Never mind, Felix, now you will have a beautiful
white coat, and papa will see how lovely you are."
They shut me up in a warm room until I was dry,
and then Elsie put a fine new collar around my neck.
I was quite proud of myself, but I tried my best to
tell her how hungry I was. I ate the last tassel off
from my cushion, and gnawed a hole in the corner of
the sofa, but I did not feel any better. Then I got
the door open and went downstairs. I found a table
spread full of frosted cakes and fresh rolls. There
was a chair all ready for me. It was too low, but I
stood up on the table and helped. myself. There
never was anything so delicious, and I tried them all
before I could make up my mind which was the best.
Some one came in. It was the grandmother herself,
and she was very angry. She called me a good-for-



nothing, and beat me with her slipper. I had nothing
more to eat that morning, but Elsie brought me some
of the very same cakes in her pocket.
Now you have gnawed them, you may as well
eat them," she said; "and after all, you did not know
any better."
In the evening I was brought down where there
were a great many people and bright lights. I saw
Elsie's papa. He was a very tall man, and they said
he was a soldier. I stood up before him and begged,
.and he gave me a lump of sugar. He said I was a
handsome dog, and advised Elsie to let old Jacques,
the gardener, have me to train for her.
"These dogs can be taught to do almost any-
thing," he said. "I have seen a company of them go
through all the manceuvres of soldiers on parade."
But, papa," said Elsie, I cannot spare my dear
Felix, and I know he would not be happy with old
Jacques. His house is small, and smells so of tobacco
-and then, he might whip Felix; I have heard that
dogs are sometimes beaten to make them perform
"So they are to make them leave off tricks," said


the grandmother, "and this little fellow will get many
a taste of the whip if he does not mend his manners."
I did not say anything, but I made up my mind
then to run away if things were to go on in that
fashion. Nothing more happened to me that night,
except that I found a lady's fan and tore it to pieces
behind the door. It had feathers on the edge, and
some of them got in my throat and nearly choked me
to death, but Elsie gave me some milk, and that cured
me. No one found the fan until the next day, and
I heard Judy say it had probably been stepped on.
The grandmother looked very hard at me when she
saw the pieces, but I pretended to be asleep. I have
noticed that grandmothers can tell very well when
you have been doing any mischief.

S I '_


EFORE Elsie's papa went away he
bought her a doll. It was called a
birthday present, although the birthday
was already past; and that doll was the
beginning of my troubles. It was a very
large doll, and when Elsie first showed it to me I
thought it was beautiful. It looked almost like Elsie


herself, and it could open and shut its eyes, and I
have often heard it say mamma and papa. This is
quite true, though the magpie says it is impossible.
The doll was called Lillian, and I soon hated her as
badly as I did the cat. First, because I myself was
Elsie's birthday present, and she had no right to have
another; but most of all, because Elsie loved the
doll the best, and often forgot me for a whole day
together, while she was playing with Lillian, or even
taking her out to walk. The thing I liked best was
to go with Elsie to the park, where were a great
many other children, and where I met some little
dogs that were very good company. We used to go
nearly every day after school, and Elsie was very
proud of me, because no one else had so handsome
a dog. The children always had cakes and candy,
and when I begged for them they would laugh and
shout, and throw me the nicest bits. There were
sparrows in the park-little, tame, brown things, that
hopped about the walks-and a very ugly old woman
sat by the fountain and sold oranges. I did not like
the old woman, and I barked at her. Once I upset
her basket of oranges, and some of them rolled in


the water. Elsie was very sorry, and paid her some
money; but I think she should have taken her basket
away when I was running a race with my friend Don.
Walks are to run on, and not for old women with
orange baskets.
After the doll came, this was all at an end. I had
to wait for my breakfast until Lillian was dressed, and
often my supper was forgotten altogether, while the
doll was shown off and made to roll her eyes and nod
her head.
It was the doll who must go to the park, and
I had to watch my chance and slip out when the
door was opened, or I was left behind. The doll
liked this very much. She used to roll her eyes at
me, and laugh when she lay on Elsie's lap, and once
when Elsie forgot to give me any supper, she laughed
so much that she fell off from the bed, and made a
little "dent in her forehead. I should have torn her to
pieces then if no one had been in the room.
One day there was to be a doll's party. The girl
who made the party was Elsie's cousin, and she had a
great many beautiful dolls, but Elsie was sure there
would not be one at the party so handsome as Lillian.


She told her so while she was trying on all her clothes
to see what dress was the prettiest.
Don lived at the cousin's house, and though I
did not care for dolls, I wanted nothing better than
a frolic with Don, and I put my paws up on Elsie's
knee to remind her of it. She slipped me on the
nose, and said, "There, now, you stupid thing! you
have torn the lace on Lillian's dress! I must be sure
and leave you at home to-morrow, for there would be
no peace with you and Don together."
You should have heard that horrible doll laugh.
She was lying flat on her face, and Elsie was sticking
pins into her back; but dolls have no feeling, and they
enjoy seeing other people uncomfortable. Just then
the grandmother called Elsie, and she laid the doll in a
chair and ran to her room. I was too angry to wait
another minute. I dragged the doll to the floor and
pulled her around by her hair, and then, taking her in
my mouth, I raced upstairs to the garret. Nobody
saw me. There was a place at the edge of the garret
floor, under a window-a very deep place, where
things went down but never came up. I put the doll
in there. She did not fall very far, but caught by her



clothes and hung there. There were a good many
other things in the hole-one of Elsie's slippers, and
a ball that I used to play with, and the coachman's
gloves, and a round red thing that used to lie on the
table in the hall. I went downstairs and played in
the yard. I saw Elsie go away in the carriage with
her grandmother, so I knew she would not miss the
doll for a good while. I went up garret and looked
into the hole again. It was still there, and nobody
could reach it.

` //'F
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HERE was a dreadful time about that doll.
Elsie hunted everywhere for it, and cried so
much that I went up several times to see if I could
bring it back. The grandmother said it was stolen,
and at last Elsie began to believe it, but she would
not have another doll, and she petted and hugged me
more than ever. Judy told her a story of a lady
,whose baby was stolen away by the gypsies. Our cat
was called Gipsey, but I do not think she could have
stolen a baby. The lady spent nearly all her money
in trying to find the baby, and at last it was found by
a little dog that used to play with it. After this Elsie
wore a black ribbon around her neck, and told all the


little girls that the gypsies had stolen her darling Lil-
lian, but she was sure Felix would find her some day.
I found her very often. I used to go up to see her
when nobody was looking, and I put some more
things down there-a pocket-handkerchief of Judy's,
and the little box in which the grandmother kept her
One day I found the grandmother's slipper-the
very one with which she whipped me when I ate the
cakes. It was fat and round like the grandmother,
and had purple ribbons on it. It curled up its toes,
and laughed at me, and the ribbons shook at me. I
took the slipper in my mouth and chewed it. I tore
the ribbons off, and dragged it away behind a great
vase of flowers. Nobody knows what fun it is to
little dogs to tear things to pieces, and shake and toss
them about. Slippers are better fun than anything
else, but the coachman's gloves were very nice. I hid
them under the door-mat, and had them buried two
days in the garden, before I carried them up garret,
I meant to bury the slipper, but the door was shut,
and so I hid it behind the pot of flowers. I dug a
great deal of dirt out of the pot and covered -it up,,


but the grandmother found it. She said she would
put an end to such mischief, and she sent Judy for
a stick, and gave me a very hard whipping. The
worst of it was, that Gipsey lay upon his cushion and
waved his tail, and said, Now you are getting your
deserts, my dear friend. I only hope she will keep on
until I tell her to stop."
And Coco laughed and screamed, and swung by
one claw.
I did not dare to bite the grandmother, and Coco
was always in his cage, but I made up my mind to
kill the cat and then run away. I never could under-
stand what cats are good for. They sometimes catch
rats, but there are dogs who catch rats for a business,
and do it much better, besides earning money for
their masters. The magpie says that in some coun-
tries the people eat cats, which seems to me a very
good way to get rid of them.





DID not wait very long for
a chance to settle my quar-
rel with Gipsey. In a day or two
we were left in the room together.
I walked around him several
times, and he opened his eyes and spit at me. Then
I pulled his cushion a little, and he spit again and
growled. I dared him to come on, and he came. We
had a regular fight. Gipsey had very sharp teeth and


claws, but my hair was so thick and long he did not
have a chance to hurt me much. I chased him all
over the room. He jumped on the table and knocked
over a tall bottle. Something sweet was in the bottle.
I tasted it when it ran on the floor. The coachman
was on the porch. He looked in the window and
laughed and seemed to think it was very good fin.
I thought so, too, but Gipsey soon got tired of it, and
tried to find some place to hide. He jumped on the
table again. This time it was a bottle of ink that fell
down. I know it was ink, because it made my feet
black when I stepped in it. When I chased him down
he jumped into a sort of shelf over the place where
the fire used to be. There was a little man on the
shelf, standing on one foot. He had wings like a
goose, but he could not fly, and when he fell down,
one wing and both legs broke off. I smelt of him and
he was dead. He was not good to eat. I tried sev-
eral pieces while I was waiting for Gipsey to come
down. Gipsey did not come down at all. He stayed
up there, and when I got tired watching him I went to
sleep on the rug.
By and by the grandmother came in. She saw the



broken bottles and the little man, and she saw Gipsey
on the shelf. She went right up to Gipsey and took
him in her arms. I thought she would whip him for
all the mischief, but she only said,
Poor old Gipsey! what has happened to you?"
Then she rang the bell for Judy, and they bathed
the cat's head with milk, and put something on his
ear. His head was very large and round, both eyes
were shut up, and a little piece was torn from the top
of his ear. They washed the carpet, and threw away
the broken things, and then the grandmother said,
Now I am ready to attend to that dog. I'll war-
rant he shall do no more mischief in this house."
She fastened a long strap to my collar, and told
Judy to tie me up in the coal cellar, and send word to
old Jacques that he was either to kill me or give me
away within twenty-four hours.

." .'"--




t UDY was glad of the chance to tie
me up, on account of the bonnet,
and because 1 sometimes chased her
Upstairs and snapped at her heels,
when she had both hands full, and could not
.i drive me away. There was only one little
*; window in the cellar, and it was cold and
dark. I was very miserable down there, and I
wondered what old Jacques would do with me.
I wondered if they would give me any dinner before
they killed me, and what Elsie would say when
she came home and found I was gone. I pulled

*,ii il i

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, : ..._-- - .


very hard at the strap, but it only choked me, so I sat
still and waited. Every minute I expected to see old
Jacques, but the first person who came was Elsie her-
self. She put her arms around me and hugged me,
and called me her dear, lovely Felix, and said I should
never be given away. She said we would go away
together and find her papa, and live with him. I
thought that would be very pleasant, and made up my
mind to wait for Elsie to run away with me. She
brought me my dinner, and a mat to lie on, and tied
her own pretty blue shawl around me before she went
back to school. She was so kind I was more sorry
than ever about Lillian, but then if we were to run
away, it was better not to be troubled with a doll. I
waited a long time and Elsie did not come. Then I
pulled and gnawed at the shawl, but I could not get
it off. I began to chew the strap, and after a little
chewing, it came off from my collar. Elsie had left
the cellar door open, partly to make it more pleasant
for me, and partly because Elsie never did shut doors.
I ran up the steps, and went directly out into the back
alley. No one saw me, which was very fortunate, but
I felt ashamed to be seen with a shawl tied around me


as if I were a baby, besides the shawl got under my
At the first corner a kind boy took it off from me.
He rolled it up and stuffed it into his jacket, and then
he ran away. He seemed to be in a hurry. He went
toward our house, and I hope he gave the shawl to
Elsie, but I did not stop to see. I ran straight on,
through a great many streets, until I was sure old
Jacques never could find me. In fact, I could not find
myself. I was lost. At first it is not so bad to be
lost, especially if you have run away; but by and by
you begin to feel that there is no one that belongs
to you. You are always looking, and following,
and going on, but you never find any one, or get
A great dog rushed at me with his mouth open,
and I ran between two ladies to get away from him.
One of them pushed me away with her foot. Then a
boy with a long whip hit me over my ears, and when I
sat on a door-step to rest, the maid drove me away
with a broom and called me a dirty little cur. I had
not noticed before that I was dirty. My paws and
my nose were stained with ink, and the sweet stuff in


the bottle had 'made all the dust stick to my face
and side. I could not find Elsie's school, or the res-
taurant where the dog lived that invited me to the
party. By and by I came to a corner where an old
man was sitting; he had his eyes shut and held out a
cap for pennies. Some people put pennies in, and
some did not. A little girl put in a cake. I was
standing close'by him, and heard the little girl say,
"Is that the little dog that leads you ? "
The man put his arm about me very quickly, and
"Yes ; this is my little dog."
Then he gave me nearly all of the cake, and the
little girl went on.
He took my pretty collar off from my neck and
let me go. The collar was red, and had a gold clasp
and a medal marked with my name, Felix." I have
seen babies wear such things about their necks ; and
the grandmother had often said it was much too fine
for a dog, and that I should some day be stolen on
account of it.





HIS chapter is for reflections. The magpie
says they always have them in stories,
and that they are to make people feel sol-
emn. I think this is a good place to put
them in, for nothing in all my life was so
bad as the two months that I was lost. It
was not so much being hungry-though I was almost
starved-as always expecting to be struck or kicked,


or to have something thrown at me. To go slinking
through the alleys, not knowing what minute a savage
dog would pounce upon me; to be chased and pelted
by cruel boys, and to feel from morning till night that
I was never for a moment safe, and had no right to
be anywhere. When I sat and shivered in the rain, I
often remembered my snug, warm home, and wished
with all my heart I had not lost it. I almost think the
grandmother would have pitied me, and if I had been
clean, and could have found my collar, I should have
gone back.
I should have liked to begin all over again with
Elsie and the grandmother, but dogs never can do
that, and they often spoil the world for themselves
before they stop to think. The magpie says it is just
the same with people, which seems a great pity. I
think there should be some way to try it over again.
Nobody knows how many lost dogs there are in a
large city. They live in all sorts of places, and only
come out on the streets at night. There was one
that lived among some boxes behind a bakery. I
stayed with him a good many nights, but he disap-


Lost dogs always do disappear after awhile. My
mother knew what became of them, but she said
I was too young to be told. Besides lost dogs, there
are lost children ; at least, I suppose they are lost, for
they do not belong to any one. They slip about the
streets in the daytime, and at night they sleep under
sidewalks, and behind piles of boards, and in cellar-
ways, and down on the wharves, and wherever they
can get away from the police. They are cold and
hungry, too, like the dogs, and nobody feeds them or
calls them in. I think it is because in 'the big houses
there are not people enough, and in the little houses
there are too many, and so some of them get lost.
Sometimes when the children are bigger, they put
them in stone houses with iron bars before the win-
dows, and lock them in. Then they cannot get lost
again; but it is not pleasant in houses with iron bars
before the windows. I know, for I have been in one,
but that was a long time afterward.
I do not know as I have mentioned that this was
the time when I lost my name. It was on the medal,
and the blind man stole it when he stole my collar.
Perhaps it was just as well, for Elsie said that Felix

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LOST.-Page 52.


meant fortunate and happy. One would laugh to
hear a lost dog called Felix!
Another thing I lost. I do not know the name
of it, but it seemed to be inside of me. It made me
love to run and race, and tear and shake things. It
made everything seem full of fun. There were
always little heads nodding and little faces laughing
at me, in the trees and the bushes and the curtains,
and everything that moved and swung. There were
voices that whistled and called me, and I had to rush
after them up and down the yard, but I never found
them. This is what I lost, and the magpie cannot tell
me anything about it. He says birds have nothing
of the kind, and it was not mentioned in the ser-
mon, but he thinks it may have been owing to my
teeth, because when the rector's children behave very
strangely he has heard it said it was their teeth.
I do not know just how long this dreadful kind of
life lasted. It seems a great while, but when you have
no breakfast or supper you cannot tell when days
begin and end. One time is just like another when
nothing pleasant happens, but the next thing I shall
tell is how I found a new home and a new master.




HE weather was very hot, indeed, and
it was hard to find water when you
S were thirsty. I saw a great many
L dogs going about with muzzles over
their mouths. A muzzle might do very well
if you were sure of your dinner, but how
would it be if there were no one to feed you ?
A great many dogs disappeared every day, and one
day I saw what became of them. I made up my


mind then to go somewhere else, where there were
no policemen. The dog that lived with me behind the
bakery came from the country, and he said that in the
country there were no policemen. I thought I would
go to the country, and I ran nearly all night to try
to find the way. In the morning, when it was not very
light, I came where a man was sitting on the steps of
a house, eating something. I was very hungry, and
I could not help sniffing at it as I went by. The man
threw me a little bit, and then another, and another.
Nobody had given me a bit in such a long time that
I could hardly believe he meant to feed me. I think
it was cheese, but I have never tasted any such cheese
as that was since then. Before I knew it the man
had me fast in his arms, and slipped a cord around
my neck. Ah," I thought, now I am to disap-
But the man patted and soothed me, and presently
took me into the house. There were three other men
sitting at a table. They all exclaimed when they saw
me, and crowded around me. One examined my
paws, another looked in my mouth, another drew
my ears through his fingers, and the man who had


brought me in declared I was the greatest prize that
had .ever fallen to them, and would surely make their
fortunes. They gave me as much breakfast as I
wanted, and then put me into a little room where
there was straw on the floor, and a great drum in
one corner. There was a monkey in this room. I
had seen a monkey before. A man used often to
bring one to the gate, and Elsie gave him money.
I did not know what they were going to do with
me, but I thought I could ask the monkey all
about it.
The man took the monkey with him, and they
left me there alone a long time. When the monkey
came back he told me I was to be trained as a per-
forming dog, and he said he was very sorry for me,
and advised me to go home if I got a chance. When
I told him I was a lost dog, he said that made a differ-
ence, and that performing was not so bad when you
were used to it. I showed him that I could already
stand up with my paws crossed on my breast and
beg, and he said that was very well for a beginning,
but I should have to learn a great deal more. That
day they washed me very clean, and painted a brown

LEFT ALONE -Page 56.


spot on my side. I had a black spot on my back,
which I thought was much prettier, but they painted
that white.
There was a woman in the room who washed me.
She said I was very handsome, and should have a fine
name. She wanted to call me Monsieur Allegrand,
because it would look well on the handbills, but the
man said he would have no Frenchman about him, but
he would name me after his dear old comrade, Cap-
tain Fritz.
The monkey said that Captain Fritz had a wooden
leg, and could not turn somersets or dance on a
tight rope, but that he could play quite wonderfully
on the bugle, and nearly always had nuts in his
The monkey thought it was a very good name to
have, and he supposed Captain Fritz had done with it,
for he saw him carried away in a box a long time be-
fore, and he had never come back.
One thing I didn't like, and that was the spot on
my side. I tried to lick it off, but it was of no use.
I had my first lesson that day. My master sat upon a
stool, and called me to him. When I came he would


give me a bit of meat, and then send me away again.
I learned two words very well. They were, Come!"
and Go!" When I told the monkey, he said I must
be very smart to learn without the whip.




HE monkey was called Major Jack, and
Sometimes only Jack. We were very
good friends and I should have been
miserable without him. We had both
to go through the same troubles, and we had no
time to quarrel. I have noticed that people do
not quarrel over their bad times, but over their
good ones, and we had no good times to speak
of. First there were the exercises every morn-
ing. While my master trained us, this was not


so bad, but one day another man came in and
looked on. He was very angry about something, and
said we did not get on at all, and he would train us
The first thing to do," he said, is to make them
thoroughly afraid of you." He took the whip and
beat me with it until I thought he would kill me. I
could not get away from him, and at last I only lay on
the floor and trembled. The monkey was beaten also,
and he did it not only that day but many days, so that
when we heard his dreadful voice we watched without
hearing anything else, to see what he was going to do.
After that, the monkey never left his exercise to run
after flies, as he sometimes used to do, and you might
have offered me the finest bit of meat in the market
and I should never have turned my head to look at it
while my master's hand said Attention! "
After we had exercised a long time, if we had
done well, we had our breakfast, but if we had not
pleased our master we had nothing. Very often when
we were almost starved, the woman gave us some-
thing. She was very kind, and used often to pat my
head, and say,


"Poor Fritz! there is only one way out of trouble
for you and me, and that is the way the Captain
I never knew what she meant, but I knew she
would take me with her if she went anywhere, and I
made up my mind to stay just as long as she did.
Once she took me with her to market. It was
very early, and as we went along the streets only a
few people were awake. The people at the market
were just unloading their wagons and arranging the
things in the stalls. Some of them looked cross
and sleepy, and no one paid much attention to the
When the grandmother went to market, every
one was anxious to sell to her, but perhaps that was
because the grandmother had a new, large basket and
a man to carry it, and the woman had a very small
basket which she carried herself. I have noticed that
it is just the same with baskets as with houses. Those
who buy for a good many people often have very
small baskets, especially if the people are children,
while others buy great baskets full for only two or


The woman only bought a small bit of meat
and some onions. She looked at other things, and
once she asked the price of a basket of fruit, but she
shook her head when they told her. Something about
the man at the fruit-stall smelled very queer. It
made me remember my mother, and our house, and
the three little dogs.
The man said,
You have a fine dog there. Is he trained ?"
And the woman said,
Oh, yes. He was trained in Paris. He is pure
The man laughed a little, and went on arranging
his melons; but he said,
"One can tell pure blood. The brown mark on
his side shows he is a mongrel."
All at once I remembered this was the man who
sold me to Elsie, and who had my mother at home,
but the woman hurried me away; and, after all, I
could not leave her.
She went home very quickly, and after that I was
never allowed to go to market. Sometimes I thought
of running away; but by and by I almost forgot that



there were other dogs or other places. I only thought
of trying to do what my master wanted me to do, so
that I might have my breakfast, and then sleep on the
straw with Jack.

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._ .-



A FTER you have learned to stand
up for a long time and beg, it
is quite easy to learn to dance. I think a dog looks
much better walking on four feet than on two; but
the people for whom we performed did not seem to
think so, and my master took great pains to teach
The monkey had a part in all the tricks, and he
had much the worst of it; for besides performing, he
had to wear a suit of clothes exactly like a soldier.



He said the cap made his head ache, and the coat
would hardly allow him to breathe, and he had fearful
cramps in his legs at night, which I think was on
account of the pants. I was always afraid they would
make me wear clothes, but they never did. The
monkey sat upon a bench when I danced, and played
upon a trumpet; and sometimes he waved his trump-
et and called out, "Right, left, forward, back." It
was not really the monkey who said this, but my mas-
ter; but every one supposed it was the monkey. I
was almost sure of it myself at first. It was my mas-
ter who made the music, also, with something which
he held in his mouth, under his great moustache; but
the people did not understand this, and were never
tired of laughing and shouting to hear a monkey talk
and give lessons in dancing. We had our practice at
home, but every afternoon we went about to shops
"and places where men were eating and drinking, and
we were made to perform. Sometimes they gave my
master a great deal of money, and sometimes very
little. If they gave him much we all stayed at home
and rested.
In the evening we went to a larger room, and the


other three men went also. There were pictures all
over the front of the house, and my master sat by the
door beating on the drum, and one of the men blew
on a bugle. When I hear a bugle I always howl. The
noise winds round and round in my head. I was
whipped a great many times for howling, but it made
no difference. Something inside of me did it. Jack
sat on his master's shoulders with his red cap and
coat on. He had his trumpet and pretended to play.
The people all stopped as they came along, and a
great many of then} came in. All who came in paid
some money to the man at the door, and when the
room was full, the performance began. There was a
high platform with sawdust all over it. The sawdust
often got in my nose, and made me sneeze. There
were ropes high up in the air, and poles and ladders.
The men took off their clothes and put on some that
were very fine. Their faces were painted, and the
ugliest one, who used to beat me, was so handsome,
when he ran out upon the platform and smiled and
bowed, that all the people clapped their hands at him.
He used to walk on the ropes, and run up the ladders,
and hold the other men on his shoulders, and swing


himself from a ring like Coco the parrot. He smiled
all the time, and when there were ladies in the house,
they often threw bunches of flowers at him. I thought
it was because they wanted him to go away, but the
magpie says it was because they were pleased with
They should have seen him with his old coat on,
lying on the floor in our house, or even in the gutter
when he had been drinking something in a bottle. He
often threw things at the woman, when he came home
-not flowers, but his boots and bottles, and once a
heavy stool. He sold the flowers at a shop. They
gave him more bottles for them.
After the men had gone through a great many
tricks they brought me upon the platform. They
taught me to come in with the monkey riding on my
First I carried him to his stool and waited
until he sat down. Then I stood up and made' a bow
to the people, and the monkey took off his cap and
,did the same. The people always laughed then, and
clapped their hands, and after they were still, we be-
gan to perform.


It seems to me very foolish to laugh so much at a
dog and a monkey for doing things which you could
do quite easily yourself, but which cost us so much
pain and trouble to learn; but the harder work it was,
the more they seemed to like it.






NE thing which made me a great deal of
S trouble was my howling at the bugle.
One night when they had taught me a new
trick the man played a dreadful tune with
his bugle. I knew I should be whipped if
I howled, but something began to buzz in my ears and
to creep up and down my throat, and by and by I had
to open my mouth and let it come out. It was a very
loud howl, and the people made a kind of hissing
noise like geese. They made that noise when any-
thing did not please them.
That night the man played the bugle until he was


tired out, and whenever I howled, my master whipped
me, but it did no good. They said I had not a
musical ear. I felt very much discouraged, and the
monkey examined my ears carefully, but he said noth-
ing was the matter with them, only he thought they
were too long, and he advised me to let the woman
cut them small and round like his. That only shows
that monkeys are not wise.
The magpie says a great many people have no
musical ear, but they do not howl when they hear a
bugle, so he thinks there must be some way to learn.
I wish. I could have found it out, though it does not
matter now. Nobody here is disturbed when I howl,
and the magpie thinks it sounds beautifully.
While we were performing at this place I found a
new friend. His name was Carl, and he belonged to
the man who took care of the house. The man was
old and had white hair, but Carl was small, and loved
to run and climb and jump. He could go up a lad-
der as fast as my master, and hang by his feet to the
bar and turn over and over. The man who beat me
tried to buy him. He said he would give money for
him and train him to perform. Carl said,



"Oh, yes, Grandfather, I should so like to have
beautiful clothes and make everybody wonder at my
tricks; and I should like to go about with the pretty
dog and the funny little monkey, and see so many
strange places."
But the grandfather shook his head and kept on
sweeping. I think he knew there were other things
about such a life that the people who only see the
performances know nothing of.
But Carl was a great comfort to me. We played
together when they were fixing the ropes and things,
and afterward, when I was very tired, he would take
my head on his lap and stroke my ears and talk to
me. He had a dog of his own, but it was very
He had a little sister, too, and one day he brought
her to see me. She had only poor clothes on like
Carl, but she could sing quite wonderfully. She sang
a song about a dog, and then Carl made me perform
my tricks for her. She was very much pleased, but
she was afraid of the monkey.
The man said he should like her, too, and he told
Carl if his grandfather ever died he had better take


his little sister and come to live with them, so that she
might wear beautiful dresses, all over spangles!
Carl laughed, and said he would come; but 1he
never did. I know the reason, and I shall tell it when
we come to the right place.

---l- '2 2 a ..." ... L




SI' was very discouraging after I had learned
to do one trick quite well, that the people
so soon grew tired of it and wanted
something new.
I was a long time learning to stand up-
right, with the monkey on my head, and move
slowly about to the sound of the trumpet.
This was very hard to do, because the monkey always.


would forget, and stick his nails in my head to keep
from falling.
When we practised I had a stiff iron collar about
my neck, with sharp things inside to keep me from
moving my head. It made my neck sore, but that
only made me more careful to hold my head very
The first time we tried this on the platform, every
one was amused. There were a great many boys in
the house. Some of them were lost boys, and some
of them were boys who sold papers and picked up
rags and bones in the streets. They always made a
great deal of noise, and sometimes they threw things
at us.
Once a boy threw an apple and knocked the
monkey's cap off. The monkey put it on again with
the feather behind, and that only made them laugh
the more.
The boy who made the most noise was one that
picked up bones. I don't know what he wanted of
them, for most of them had been gnawed by lost
dogs, besides .being thrown out. The magpie does
not know either; but there were boys who gathered

NEW TRICKS.-Page 74.


great bags full, and sold them to an old woman who
had a very dark shop on an alley. She bought, also,
old bottles with nothing in them.
This boy wanted me to dance faster, and he called
out to the monkey to hurry up the music; but if you
ever tried it, you would know it is not so easy to
dance on your hind legs and carry your head straight.
Then they all began'to stamp and whistle and throw
nuts at us; and at last it was so bad I came down
upon my feet, and the monkey jumped off and began
to pick up nuts. My master came forward and bowed
to them, and tried to say something, but they only
stamped the louder and threw nuts at him, also.
When he found no one would listen, he went away
and took us with him.
He sat in the door with his hands over his face.
He seemed to be hurt somewhere, but it could not
have been the nuts. I was very sorry for him, but
when I licked his hands he only cuffed me.
When the other men came home they were very
bad. They talked loud, and shook fists at my master,
though I do not know what it was about. He was
much better than they, and if I could have-gone away


somewhere with my master and the woman I should
have liked it very well.
Afterward we tried the same trick again, and no-
body threw anything. But they liked it best when I
sat in a chair, with a great ruffled cap on, and held
the monkey in my arms. The monkey had on a little
cap, like a baby, and a long, white dress. There was
a bottle on the table, and a cup; and I held a spoon
to his mouth as if I were feeding him. The monkey
knocked the spoon away, though there was nothing in
it, and my master, who stood out of sight, made a
crying noise. All the people thought it was the
monkey who cried, and then I put him in the cradle
and rocked him. When he tried to get up I boxed
his ears, and then his cap came off.
Things often happen in this way when you are
performing, and you never know what to do. I took
the cap in my mouth and carried it behind the curtain
to my master. This was wrong, and the people
laughed and stamped to see the nurse running across
the platform on four feet, with the baby's cap in her
mouth. My master sent me back, and then I found
the monkey sitting on the back of the chair, drinking


the stuff in the bottle. I took him in my mouth by
his long clothes and carried him out. It was quite
hard to do, for the long clothes got under my feet;
but I think it was the right thing, for even my master
laughed very much.

r- ^ -.


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._ .* I

NOTHER thing which I learned to do was
to stand upon a little barrel, and make
it roll all over the stage by stepping very
sloWly backward all the time. The mon-
key rode upon my back and drove me, but he did
not like it at all.

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Carl often tried this trick with the barrel, and
he could do it quite well. He went much faster
than I did, and could even dance while the barrel was
rolling, but then he had only two feet to keep in place
while I had four, which makes a difference. Carl's
little sister was sick. He told me about her, and my
master said he was sorry. He went to see her one
day and took me with him. He carried an orange in
his pocket, and a large picture, like the one on the
door of the house where we used to perform, but he
left the monkey at home, because Minna did not like
the monkey. We went up a great many stairs to the
room. When you looked out at the window, you
could see the top. of another house and a chimney
close by. There was a cat sitting by the chimney, but
I did not want to chase her. I had left off caring
about cats. The grandfather was in the room, and
Minna. The grandfather had a hammer and he was
driving little sticks into a shoe. He did it very fast,
and it made a noise-not a loud noise, but a long noise
that never stopped. I was tired of hearing it, and I
think Minna was tired, but it went on all the same.
Minna was pleased with the picture, and my mas-

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