_In which we find out that a dog refuses to be separated from its
little mistress._
Rags was a dear little snow-white poodle with such soft curly wool
that he looked more like a lamb than a dog. The man who gave him
to Mary called him “Rags,” but no one could understand why such a
beautiful woolly dog should be called “Rags.”
Mary was a little lame girl and could not run about and play like
other little girls, for she had to hop about on a crutch. Rags was
her very best friend, and they were always together. Mary’s father
was dead, and her mother worked out all day leaving Mary alone with
Rags. They were never lonesome, however, for they were always happy
when they were together.
One morning Mary and Rags were sitting on the doorstep watching the
people when a black-eyed man came by.
“That’s a very fine poodle,” said he.
“Indeed, he is,” cried Mary. “He’s my very own and I love him more
than anything else.”
“Can he do any tricks?” asked the man.
“I should say so,” said Mary, for she had taught the dog all he
knew. “Just watch him.”
Rags stood on his head and danced, and even tried to speak by
little barks. The man asked Mary if she would sell him.
“No, indeed, I won’t,” answered Mary, “he is my own Rags and I
cannot let you have him.”
The man seemed to be very angry, and went away.
The next morning the black-eyed man came back and again asked
Mary to sell him the dog. Mary again refused. Suddenly he glanced
hastily up and down the street, and seeing no one, grabbed Rags
from Mary’s arms and fled. Mary screamed and tried to follow, but
her poor little crutch would not let her. She sobbed and cried
until she grew white and cold, and her mother found her in a little
heap on the floor with her little crutch beside her.
All night long she tossed to and fro calling for Rags, and when
morning came she had a high fever.
One afternoon when everything was so still in the room that you
could hear Mary’s faint breathing, there was a pattering of feet
and a little white poodle dashed into the room and jumped on the
bed. It was Rags! But you would never have known him for he was
thin and dirty, and his little feet were bleeding as if he had
traveled a long way. He licked Mary’s face and tried to tell her
how he got away from the man, but Mary could not understand dog
language, and so she never knew.
From that day Mary grew better, and though she never could
understand how Rags came back to her, she just smiled and said he
found his way because he loved her so much.