PUPPIES AND KITTENS

PUPPIES AND KITTENSTWO PUPPIES

Some dogs love being photographed and others simply hate it. We once had a dog called Tim who was determined to be in every photograph. It didn’t matter what we were trying to take, Tim would do his best to push in. And the worst of it was that when you were busy with the camera you couldn’t be looking after Tim at the same time, and he would somehow manage to get into the picture. Perhaps he hadn’t got in quite far enough, in which case you would see only a bit of him, which was worst of all.

So you may be sure we had no trouble with him if ever we wanted to pose himfor a photograph. Tim was a proud dog then, and he would sit or stand any way we liked; the only bother was to keep his tail still, for being so pleased, he couldn’t resist wagging it.

I believe you would have liked Tim because, of course, you are fond of dogs, and he was an adorable dog. He was very sociable and hated being left out of anything, so that if two or three of us were chatting, Tim would jump on a chair and join the party. He would lean over the back, gazing so intelligently into our faces, that it really seemed as if he were talking, too.

A dog’s love for his people is a curious and beautiful thing. Tim did not mind how uncomfortable he was as long as he could be near them. He had once been known to give up his dinner to follow them when they went for a walk. Perhaps he was not as hungry as usual that day.

He would lean over the back of a chair.

We had another dog with Tim calledTess who hated the sight of a camera. We wanted to get a photograph of her and Tim sitting up together, but she was determined we shouldn’t. As soon as we had placed them in a good position and were ready to begin, that silly Tess would tumble on her back with her legs sticking up in the air, and how could you photograph a dog like that! We tried scolding her, but that only made matters worse, for she simply wouldn’t sit up at all, and as soon as we had dragged her on to her feet—flop, over she would go again! At last we had to give it up as a bad job.

Tess had five jolly little puppies, three boys and two girls, and as soon as ever the pups could get on without their mother, she was sent away. She went to some kind people who never wanted to photograph their dogs and where she would get heaps and heaps to eat, for I must tell you, Tess was rather a greedy dog and not as faithful and affectionate as Tim.

Tim was very good to the puppies. Naturally, he didn’t trouble himself about them quite like a mother, but he was never snappy or disagreeable. Even when they played all over him and nibbled his ears he never growled like some father dogs might have done.

One day we wanted to take a picture of the puppies sitting in a row, little thinking the difficult job it was going to be. Of course, Tim kept sitting just in front of the camera, so before we began he had to be taken indoors.

The Puppies.

At first the puppies were all good except the two girls, Timette and Ann. They wouldn’t stay where they were put, but kept waddling away as if they hadsome very important business of their own. As soon as Ann was caught and put back, Timette would wander off, and when she was caught, Ann was off again and so it went on. It was lucky there were two of us, but we were both kept busy. Then the other puppies didn’t see why they shouldn’t have some fun and they began wandering away, too. There was only one thing to be done with the two naughty pups who had set such a bad example and that was to give them a whipping. Of course, not a real one, for they were such babies they couldn’t understand, but just a few mild pats to keep them still. You would have laughed to see their puzzled faces, for they were not sure what the pats meant and rather thought it was some new game. After this Ann was placed in the middle of the group, where she promptly went to sleep, and Timette was put at the end of the row, where she sat blinking as sleepily asyou do when it is long past your bedtime.

Timette and Ann had never been so tired in their short lives. First of all, the running away and always being brought back, then being made to sit in one place, and after that the new game of pats had been too much for the babies, and when it was over they slept and slept as if they never meant to wake up again.

I wonder what they said to each other about it afterwards. I daresay the three other puppies laughed at them and probably made believe they had understood all along that they were expected to sit still. When old Tim came out again they told him all about it. “We tried hard to get away,” said Timette, and Ann joined in, “We tried and tried over and over again, but each time we were brought back.” Then the other puppies explained about the pats. “I see,” said Tim, “now I understand you have had your first whipping for disobedience; take care it is the last.”

They slept and slept.

When the puppies grew a little older, people used to come and look at them, and soon the three boy puppies were sold and taken to new homes.

Timette and Ann missed their brothers; it seemed funny to be such a small family and they did their best to entice old Tim to play with them. But he was too grown-up and dignified and rather slow in moving about, so it was not altogether a success. In the middle of a game he would prick up his ears and listen as if he heard some one calling him. And often he would trot off, pretending he was wanted elsewhere, just as an excuse to get away from the rough, romping pups.

Timette was given her name becauseshe was so like Tim, and Ann hers because, as she was rather old-fashioned looking, it seemed to suit her. The puppies were very much alike, so only those who knew them well could tell them apart, but in character they were very different. Ann was gentle and timid, while Timette was a thorough tomboy, full of spirits and mischief and as bold as a lion.

And now I am going to tell you about the first adventure they had. They lived in a garden that ran into a wood. It was rather difficult to see just where the garden ended and the wood began, for they were only separated by a wire.

Now, Timette and Ann knew that they were not supposed to go out of the garden where they had plenty to amuse them: an india-rubber ball, a piece of wood that looked like a bone, and a bit of rag that did for playing “Tug-of-war.” Ann never had the least wish to wander, for she was much too timid. But, as I said, Timette was different; she was simply longing to go into the wood and have some adventures. She kept talking to Ann about it, making most tempting suggestions and persuading her to go.

TIMETTE AND ANN.“Two little Airedale pups are we,Shaggy of coat and of gender ‘she.’”

TIMETTE AND ANN.

“Two little Airedale pups are we,Shaggy of coat and of gender ‘she.’”

“Two little Airedale pups are we,

Shaggy of coat and of gender ‘she.’”

“Look at old Tim,” she said; “he often takes a walk by himself, and he never comes to any harm.”

“That’s all very well,” Ann answered; “he’s old, and he can take care of himself.”

“Well, and why can’t we take care of ourselves?”

“Because I believe there are wild animals that would eat us up.”

“Whatever makes you think that?” asked Timette, for she knew Ann had very sharp ears and keen scent; “do you smell or hear them?”

“Both,” replied Ann, “only this morning I smelt that some animal had been in the garden. I got on its track and followed it down to the cabbages and back to the wood again.”

“I don’t think much of an animal who only goes after cabbages,” Timette interrupted.

“There are others, too,” continued Ann, “I often hear very strange scratching noises like animals running up trees with terribly sharp claws,” and Ann gave a little shudder.

“Well, what of it?” said Timette boldly. “I shouldn’t mind their claws as long as the animals weren’t bigger than I am.”

“But they might run after us,” suggested Ann.

“They wouldn’t run after me,” boasted Timette, “for I should be running after them!”

“Would you really?” asked Ann, and she sighed, wishing she were as brave as her sister.

“I should say so,” said Timette, “if only you would come, too, we might even catch one. Think what fun that would be.”

“It certainly would,” replied Ann. “Oh, how I should love it!”

“Well, come along,” urged Timette, and Ann came along, and that is how the adventure began.

This conversation took place after the puppies had eaten their dinner and were supposed to be taking their afternoon nap. Tim was stretched out on the lawn in the sun, having a doze, and no one was about. The two puppies slunk off quietly into the wood and no one saw them go.

The wood was very exciting; there were such strange smells about, and when the puppies put their noses to the ground they began to find out all sorts of animal secrets. And now, before we go any further with Timette and Ann into the wood, I must just tell you a little about dogs and their clever noses or you will be wondering why these puppies talked so much about smells.

“Here you see us with Papa;They sent away our dear Mamma.”

“Here you see us with Papa;

They sent away our dear Mamma.”

Hundreds of years ago, when there were no maps or books or papers, people could find out all kinds of wonderful things by their noses. Your nose now will tell you the difference between the smell of a violet and strawberry jam and other things, but when you know what a dog can discover by its sense of smell, you will see how feeble yours is.

A dog will know who has been along the road by smelling the footsteps. Although it cannot read the way on a sign-post it can smell out the way to places and follow any one who has been along, even if it was some time ago.

You wouldn’t know if a friend had been to see you while you were out unless you were told, but a dog would know as soon as he came back; he wouldn’t be obliged to ask, for he would know just who it was. If the friend had brought another little dog, too, your own dogwould be so excited he would probably try to tell you all about it, and yet he was away when it happened.

The road is as interesting to a dog as the most thrilling story book is to you. It may look just an empty road, but to a dog it has all sorts of messages that conjure up pictures. He knows, for instance, that another dog has traveled there and can tell what kind of dog it was. By and by his nose tells him this dog found a rabbit and caught it. Then he finds out a bigger dog came along and chased the first dog and got the rabbit. At least, did he get the rabbit? He is puzzled and sniffs hard round one spot. It is exciting news he is finding out and you can see his tail wagging with eagerness. No, it seems, neither dog got the rabbit, for bunny was too sharp and between the two managed to get away. If a dog can find out all this by his sense of smell you may guess he can easily track the rabbit to its hole, and there he sitsprobably waiting for it to come out and give him the chance of a little sport, too.

Haven’t you often seen your dog stop suddenly when he is coming towards you and hold his head in the air? You must have wondered why he didn’t come straight on. He has probably had a message, a scent blown on the wind, which like a wireless, tells him a rat has just crossed the road and is somewhere in the hedge if he will only go and look. And so it goes on; there is not a dull moment in his walk.

To a dog every one has his own particular smell which never deceives him. If you dress yourself up you may puzzle your dog’s eyes for a little while. He may even bark at you as if you were a stranger, but once let him get near enough to smell you and it is all over. He will wag his tail and look up at you, as much as to say, “Did you really think you could take me in?” So you can understand why dogs when out hate to be madeto come to heel, as they miss all the fun of the walk, and have no chances to stop and read the interesting smells that tell them so much.

“All the happy, livelong day,We eat and sleep and laze and play.”

“All the happy, livelong day,

We eat and sleep and laze and play.”

And now we must go back to Timette and Ann and their adventure.

“The tree-climbing animal has been up here,” cried Ann, sniffing at the bark of a tree. And when they looked up they saw a brown squirrel peeping at them from a branch.

“Come down! come down! come down at once!” barked the puppies, but Mr. Squirrel was too wise for that. He knew that even with such baby dogs it wouldn’t be quite safe to trust himself on the ground.

“I don’t call that playing fair,” Ann called out, jumping up at the tree and wishing she could climb it. But the squirrel just sat tight.

Presently Timette smelt an enticing smell and dived into some bushes, while Ann anxiously watched and waited. She could hear Timette working about and breathing hard.

“Hi, hi, hi!” shrieked a big bird as it flew out. Timette dashed after it, but it rose in the air and left her looking very surprised. “Well, that was a sell!” she said.

Ann meanwhile was busy with her nose on the ground. There were a number of insects crawling about; they had no smell to speak of, but they moved quickly, which was rather fun. Once she chased a big hairy buzzing thing. It settled on a bit of heather and she nearly caught it, but luckily not quite, for it was a bumble bee.

“Except when only one bone’s there,And Sis takes care that I shan’t share.”

“Except when only one bone’s there,

And Sis takes care that I shan’t share.”

Timette didn’t care for the beetles; they were feeble sport for a dog, she thought, and putting her nose in the air she caught a most wonderful smell. She gave a short bark of delight and started running about to find it on the ground. Ann looked upand she too caught the message and was as busy as Timette. It was a most enticing scent: furry and alive and gamey so that it promised real sport. As soon as the puppies really got on to it, they put their noses to the ground and followed it up, their little stumpy tails wagging hard. Their instinct told them it was not an animal that could hurt them, but one their mother and father and grandfathers and great-grandfathers had chased, so you can’t blame Timette and Ann for following up the scent of a rabbit.

But although rabbits are often killed by dogs, they are not silly enough to allow themselves to be caught by two young, inexperienced puppies. The rabbit they chased was an old one who had his wits too much about him to be even very afraid. You will laugh when I tell you that he didn’t even trouble himself to hurry and just ambled along to a hole and popped down it.

This hole had been the chief entranceto his burrow, and he and his big family had used it so often that it was worn quite wide and smooth. The artful old rabbit, however, only went a little way down it, then he turned to one side and went up another little passage and out into the wood and off again.

The puppies came dashing along, giving little short barks of delight at the sport. They followed the scent to the hole, and without stopping they plunged right into what looked to them like a dark tunnel. Of course, they were in much too great a hurry to notice the little passage where the old rabbit had turned aside, and just pushed on as hard as they could. The tunnel wound downhill and grew narrower and narrower as they went on. Timette was leading and she called back to Ann, “Canyousmell anything?Ihave lost the scent.”

“So have I,” Ann answered, and then as she was feeling nervous in the dark, she added, “Let’s go back.”

“No, it’s all right!” cried Timette, “we had better go on, I can see daylight and smell the open air.”

This was a good thing, for the fat puppies would have found it very difficult to turn round in such a small space. At the end the hole grew so narrow that Timette had to squeeze to get through, and when Ann crawled out, some of the roof fell in and there was no more hole to be seen.

The puppies found themselves in a hole in two senses of the word. It wasn’t a nice hole either, but a deep one, cold and damp, too, and with no enticing smells. It had once been the home of a lot of rabbits, but it had all been dug up, and the only smell about it now was that of a cold dull spade.

“I want to go home,” whimpered Ann.

“So do I, Cry-baby,” said Timette, “but we shall have to climb out of here first.”

“What a pity you should beSuch a greedy little she!”

“What a pity you should be

Such a greedy little she!”

Then they both stood on their hind legs and stretched up the sides of the hole, and when this was no good they gave little feeble jumps. A child would have managed to scramble out somehow, and kittenscould have reached the top in a twinkling; but puppies are so clumsy and helpless, and poor Timette and Ann’s struggles were all in vain. They only fell on their backs, and at last got so hurt and tired they gave it up. It was their teatime, too, and they were feeling hungry as well as unhappy, and you know how bad that is.

Ann cried, “Oh, I do want my bread and milk! I’m so hungry. Oh! oh! oh!” And Timette began crying, too, “We’re lost, we’re lost! Oh, do come and find us!” and then they both howled as loudly as ever they could, “Help, help, help!” But no one came and all was quiet.

Poor puppies! how miserable and lonely they felt! It did seem hard that no one should trouble about them, and when they couldn’t cry any longer they curled themselves up as close as they could to each other and went to sleep. They were like the lost “Babes in the Wood.”

And now I want to tell you what was happening at home. A little girl called Ruth, who was very fond of the puppies, came to see them on her way home from a party. She loved playing with them, and the first thing she said when she ran in was, “I am just going to say good-night to Timette and Ann,” and was off into the garden to find them.

But, alas! there were no puppies to be found. There was the india-rubber ball and the stick and the bit of rag, all looking very lonely, but no sign of the puppies. Ruth was very puzzled. “What have you done with them?” she asked Tim, who was sitting up looking rather worried. He gave his tail a flop and his brown humaneyes seemed to say, “It really wasn’t my fault; they ran away without asking me.”

Ruth felt sure they couldn’t be so very far off, as they were too babyish to be able to stray a great distance, and that with Tim’s help she would be able to find them. She ran back to tell us the news and that she and Tim were going out as a search party to look for the lost ones.

“Don’t be long,” we called after her, “remember your bedtime.”

“As if I could go to bed while the darlings are lost!” we heard her say.

We watched them go into the wood, Tim barking round Ruth most excitedly. He seemed to know there was serious business on hand, for instead of dashing off to chase rabbits, he kept near her and often put his nose to the ground. “We’ve got to find those puppies,” Ruth told him. Soon he gave a sharp bark and ran ahead of her, looking round and saying as plainly as he could, “You just follow me.”Ruth understood dogs as well as she loved them, and she trusted Tim and followed where he led.

In a few minutes they had reached the hole. The puppies woke up to see Ruth and Tim standing looking down on them. Oh, what a noise they made! I can’t tell you how delighted they were. It seemed like waking up from a bad dream. You couldn’t have heard yourself speak, for there was Tim barking, Ruth calling them all the pet names she could think of, and the puppies themselves simply shrieking with joy. Ruth soon jumped down into the hole, and when we came up there she was hugging the puppies who were covering her face with their wet sticky kisses, giving little sobbing cries as if they wanted to tell her over and over again how glad they were to be found, and to thank her for getting them out of the nasty hole. Ruth carried them home in her arms, talking to them all the way, while Tim stalked along by her side witha proud and injured air that plainly said, “Well, after all, it was really I who found them and I think you might make a little more fuss with me.”

“This they say is not quite right;But who can keep still in the midst of a fight?”

“This they say is not quite right;

But who can keep still in the midst of a fight?”

Puppies don’t have meat to eat; they don’t really need it till they are grown up. However, sometimes as a great treat, Timette and Ann would be given a bone. They always had one each, because being rather jealous dogs they might have quarreled over one. Tim, too, always had a bone to himself. One day the cook threw Tim a bone, but he had gone off for a saunter in the wood, and the puppies rushed to get the prize. Timette was first and, with a bound, was on top of it. But she had jumped just too far and Ann quickly dived in and snatched it from under her. Poor Timette! her baby face looked so disappointed. “Well,you are a greedy pig,” she said; “you might let me have a bit.”

“Go away,” said Ann, and she went on calmly nibbling.

Then Timette made a dash for it, but Ann was prepared and wheeled round, the bone safely in her mouth. Timette tried again, but Ann was too artful; she just held on to the bone with her paws as well as her teeth and gave a little growl when Timette came too near.

At last Timette’s patience gave way, and with an angry cry she hurled herself at Ann. Ann at once turned on her and bit her ear, and then they got muddled up, both trying to bite as hard as they could. The bone was forgotten, for both puppies were in a rage. They fought almost savagely like big dogs and neither would give in. They made such a noise about it, too, that we came out to see what was the matter, and as they wouldn’t stop, we had to separate them. In the end Ann got rather the worst of it, whichserved her right for being so greedy over the bone. She was not much hurt, though, for Timette had only her puppy teeth, and they can’t bite really hard, although they are very sharp.

When it was over, they were both rather sulky and gave each other long scowling looks. Timette took the bone and kept it all the afternoon. Ann looked the other way, pretending she no longer wanted it. In the end we took it away altogether, and after that they were quite good friends again, ate their evening bread and milk in peace and went to sleep curled up together.

“We’re good dogs now, and once more friends,”And so my doggy story ends.

“We’re good dogs now, and once more friends,”

And so my doggy story ends.

Dogs are very like children who never grow up. But a child would have to have a very loving heart to be as fond of any one as a dog. A dog is so faithful, too; he never tires of people or thinks them wrong or unfair, and he is just as devoted and obedient to them however old he gets. He is always trying to please them and is miserable and unhappy when he fails. That is why it is so easy to train a dog; you only have to make him understand what you want and he will try and do it. If dogs could understand all our language, you would only have to say to your dog, “Don’t walk on the flower-beds,” or “don’t take anything off the table,” or “don’t bark when we want togo to sleep,” and he would obey you. This doesn’t mean that dogs are never naughty; I know they are sometimes, but before you punish a dog you should be quite sure he understands what it is for. If he is an intelligent dog, a scolding will often do as well as a whipping. Tim only had a whipping once in his life, and yet he was a very well trained dog. He was taught not to go across the beds in the garden by being called off and made to go round, and he never stole after he had taken one piece of cake.

I must tell you about that. It was really not quite his fault, for it was on a very low table, and being rather new I expect it smelt extra tempting. He was made to feel horribly ashamed. Ever afterwards the cake plate was shown him with reproachful remarks, such as “Oh, Tim, how could you! Oh, fie, what a wicked thief!” till he would turn his head away as if he hated the sight of the stupid old cake and wished we would stop teasinghim. After this he could be trusted never to take anything however near the ground it was, and no matter how long he was left alone with it.

One day the tea had been taken into the garden. Tim, of course, could be trusted, but the puppies had been forgotten. When he came out there was Tim sitting up with a very dejected look, and the two naughty puppies busy with the bread-and-butter, some crumbs on their shaggy mouths being all that was left of the cake!

“Did they get a whipping?” you ask.

Well, when we found all our nice cake gone we did feel inclined to give them some pats, but then they were too much of babies to understand, so they had a shaking and a scolding and were shut up for the rest of the afternoon. Tim soon got more cheery when we petted him up and told him it wasn’t his fault.

When Ann grew up she was given to Ruth as a birthday present; or to be quite truthful, she gave herself, for she was so fond of Ruth that she followed her about everywhere, and would stay with no one else.

She was a very sedate and serious animal; she might almost have been an old lady dog. You would have thought by the look of her she was wrapped in deep thought and that if only she could have spoken it would have been about very clever things.

She looked so wise and grave.

Ruth would have it she was making up poetry. The fact was Ruth was making up poetry herself, and when we are thinking hard of any subject we are inclined toimagine other people are, too. Just now Ruth was busy making verses and rhymes and thought Ann must be doing the same.

Ruth was rather shy over her poetry; she hadn’t told any one about it, she was too afraid they might laugh at her. And yet she badly wanted to know what they would think of it.

One day she sat Ann up in a chair at a table with pen and ink and paper in front of her. She looked so wise and grave that you could quite well imagine her a poet. And when Ruth called us in to look at her, there sure enough were some verses written.

“Look what Ann has made up,” cried Ruth. “I told you she was thinking of poetry.”

“How wonderful!” we said, for we saw whose writing it was. “Clever Ann! who will read it out?”

“I think Ann would like me to,” replied Ruth, who was glad to get this chance to read her own verses, “the poem is supposedto be about Ann’s young days when she and Timette were puppies.”

“How very interesting,” we remarked.

“Now I’ll begin,” said Ruth, with rather a red face, “it is supposed to be Timette speaking.”

“But why Timette?” we asked. “Why isn’t it Ann herself speaking?”

“Because she is a poet,” Ruth explained, “and poets always have to pretend to be some one else.”

Then she read these verses:—

“Two little Airedale pups are we,Shaggy of coat and of gender ‘she.’“Here you see us with papa,They sent away our dear mamma.“All the happy livelong dayWe eat and sleep and laze and play.“Except when only one bone’s thereAnd Sis takes care that I shan’t share.“What a pity you should beSuch a greedy little she!“This they say is not quite right,But who can keep still in the midst of a fight?“We’re good dogs now and once more friends,And so my doggy story ends.”

“Two little Airedale pups are we,Shaggy of coat and of gender ‘she.’

“Two little Airedale pups are we,

Shaggy of coat and of gender ‘she.’

“Here you see us with papa,They sent away our dear mamma.

“Here you see us with papa,

They sent away our dear mamma.

“All the happy livelong dayWe eat and sleep and laze and play.

“All the happy livelong day

We eat and sleep and laze and play.

“Except when only one bone’s thereAnd Sis takes care that I shan’t share.

“Except when only one bone’s there

And Sis takes care that I shan’t share.

“What a pity you should beSuch a greedy little she!

“What a pity you should be

Such a greedy little she!

“This they say is not quite right,But who can keep still in the midst of a fight?

“This they say is not quite right,

But who can keep still in the midst of a fight?

“We’re good dogs now and once more friends,And so my doggy story ends.”

“We’re good dogs now and once more friends,

And so my doggy story ends.”

The Spider in the Web.

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