CHAPTER XI_Kristy's Rainy Day Picnic

HOW A DOG SAVED MY LIFE

I was twelve years old when I had the most dreadful experience of my

life--an experience that I am sure would have ended in my death or

insanity if it had not been for the love of my little dog Tony.

It was all my own fault, too--my own naughtiness. But let me begin at

the beginning. My father and mother were going away from home on a

short visit to my grandmother. They had arranged to have me stay at my

Uncle Will's and had given Molly, the maid, leave to spend the time at

her own home; so the house was to be shut up and left alone.

Now I had an intimate friend, a schoolmate, of whom my mother did not

approve, for family reasons, which I understood when I was older, and

she never liked to have me be much with her. When Maud--for that was

her name--found out that I was to be at my uncle's a few days, she at

once asked me to stay with her instead. She offered all sorts of

inducements. She was going to have a party--a dance it was--and my

parents did not approve of dancing. In fact, she drew such an enticing

picture of the good times we would have that I was tempted to do what

I had never done in my life--deceive my own mother.

I did not dare ask her to let me go to Maud's, for I knew she would

not consent, and if she positively forbade me, I think I should not

have ventured to disobey, but if I did not ask her and she did not

forbid, that--I thought--would not be so very bad. Fortifying myself

by these thoughts, I decided to accept Maud's invitation secretly.

I made up my mind not to go to Uncle Will's at all, for I did not want

them to know where I was going. I knew my father or mother would lock

the house and leave the key at Uncle Will's, and I wanted to get my

best clothes to go to Maud's party.

After some thought, and at Maud's suggestion, I planned to hide myself

in the house till all had left it, then get the things I wanted, and

slip out of a window that was not fastened.

I knew my mother would go all over the house before she left it, and

the only place I could think of to hide was in the cellar. So with

these naughty thoughts in my head, I took occasion, a short time

before they were to start, to slip into the cellar and hide behind

some barrels. I must say that I had always a foolish fear of the

cellar, and nothing but my great desire to go to Maud's would have

induced me to spend even a few minutes in it.

I heard my father drive up to the door and my mother walking about

seeing that everything was shut and locked, but I did not hear that as

she passed the cellar door she slipped the bolt into place.

When they were out of the house, and I heard them drive away, I came

out of my hiding place, exulting in the thought that now I was free

to do as I liked. I would hurry up to my room, put my best dress and

ribbons and things into a traveling bag, and hurry down to Maud's. I

felt my way to the stairs, for it was late afternoon and the

cellar--never very light in the brightest noon--was at that hour quite

dark, and I went up those stairs the happiest, lightest-hearted girl

in the world. Alas! it was my last happy moment for months.

I fumbled about for the latch, lifted it, and pushed the door. It did

not open--and the truth flashed upon me. It was locked! I was a

prisoner! The full horror of my position burst upon me. No one knew I

was there. No one would seek me. No one could hear me, for the house

was at some distance from others. I was a prisoner in a dark

cellar--it was almost night--my parents would be gone three days!

I went into a frenzy, I shrieked and called, I pounded the door till

my hands were bleeding, though all the time I knew no one could hear

me.

I can scarcely remember what I did. I was, I believe, actually insane

for a while.

Night came on; I heard--or I thought I heard--rats, and I remembered

some of the terrible things I had read of these animals. I shouted

again, and again beat the door. I cannot tell the horror and agony of

those hours. I felt myself going mad.

I was aroused at last, after hours,--it seemed to me,--by the whining

and crying of my dog, my pet, who was my constant companion. He was a

clever little fellow and, I used to think, knew as much as some folks.

He was now at the small, grated window of the cellar, crying and

scratching at the earth, evidently trying to dig his way in to me.

His presence--even outside--comforted me, and a thought came to me. He

had been taught to go to Uncle Will and others of the family, and

perhaps he might be able to bring help. I called to him, and he

responded joyfully. Then I gave him his order.

"Call Uncle Will!"

The faithful fellow did not want to leave me; he whined and cried,

but I repeated the order in as stern a voice as I could manage.

"Call Uncle Will!" I ordered again and again, and at last he ran off.

Then I took hope and began to listen. If Uncle Will came near, I meant

to call and scream to attract his attention.

But hours passed; no one came--not even my dear Tony--and I heard

noises and went mad again. I was getting exhausted, sitting

uncomfortably on the top step of the stairs, and suffering such

violent emotion.

Meanwhile there was excitement at Uncle Will's over the strange

conduct of the dog. He barked, and howled, and cried at the door, till

Uncle Will got out of bed to quiet him. But he would not be quiet, nor

go into the house for all the coaxing. He insisted on barking, running

towards the gate, and then back in the most frantic way.

At last, after he had kept the family awake all night, when daylight

began to dawn, Uncle Will decided to follow him to see if he could

find what was the matter, though he was sure the poor fellow was

raving mad.

The dog led him at once to the cellar window, where he dug at the

earth, and whined and cried harder than ever. At first I did not hear

him,--I think I had become unconscious,--but at last I did rouse

myself enough to utter a scream which Uncle Will heard. He did not

recognize my voice,--indeed he said afterwards that it sounded like

nothing human,--but he resolved at any rate to see what it was.

He went to the kitchen door to unlock it, but the dog went wilder than

ever, seeming to think I was behind that window. However, Uncle Will

came in, and on his unlocking the cellar door, I fell on the floor in

a heap, as if dead.

Uncle Will was awfully frightened; he took me up in his arms--big as I

was--and ran with me back to his house, which was not far away.

It was hours before I was fully myself, months before I recovered from

the illness caused by the cold I had taken, and years before I got

back my courage and could bear to be alone--especially at night, when

all the horrors of that time would come up before me as vividly as on

that dreadful night.

* * * * *

"How dreadful!" said Kristy in a low tone, as Mrs. Wilson paused.

"I needn't point the moral to you, Kristy," Mrs. Wilson said, "but I

assure you I learned my lesson well; and that's why I keep my dear

little dog's body in a glass case. I cherished him beyond everything

as long as he lived, and couldn't bear to give him up when he died at

a good old age.

"Now," said Mrs. Wilson, "I must really go. It has stopped raining,

Kristy, and I have paid mamma's debt."

"No, indeed!" cried Kristy. "You have told me lovely stories, and

mamma owes me two to pay for them!"

"That's a curious way of calculating," said Mrs. Wilson, laughing; "do

you expect to be paid twice for everything?"

"Yes; when it's stories," said Kristy.

"Kristy'll soon have to write stories for herself, I think," said her

mother, smiling, "when she has exhausted the stock of all her

friends."

Kristy blushed, but did not confess that that was her pet ambition.

"Now, mamma," said Kristy that evening after supper was over, "some