"No, papa dear; _Fuzzy_--that's what we was going to call him."
"Well, darling, Fuzzy shall be your very own. You shall go to see him
in the stables whenever you like; I'll tell Mellor. And he will go out
walks with you--the puppy, I mean, not Mellor--as soon as ever he has
learnt to follow." This made Mary laugh again. The idea of Mellor
going out a walk with them all, following behind like a well-behaved
dog. For Mellor was not very young, and he had a broad red face and was
rather fat.
Papa was pleased to hear Mary laughing, even though it was rather a
shaky little laugh, and he went on to explain more.
"You see he's not the sort of dog that you can have in the house,
particularly not in the nursery," he said. "Indeed, I hardly think that
any dog except a very old and tried one is safe in a nursery, above all,
where there's such a little baby as--"
"Dolly," said Mary quietly, to show that she had not forgotten what baby
was to be called.
"Yes, as Dolly," her father went on. "They would be two babies
together, and they might hurt each other without meaning it. Dolly
might pull Fuddle's hair--"
At this all three children burst out laughing, quite a hearty laugh this
time.
"Oh, papa dear," said Mary, "what a very bad mem'ry you've got! It
isn't _Fuddle_! Can't you say _Fuzzy_?"
"Fuzzy, _Fuzzy_, Fuzzy," said papa, speaking like the three bears turned
the wrong way. "There, now, I think I've got it into my stupid old head
at last. Well, as I was saying, Miss Dolly might pull Master Fuzzy's
hair, without meaning to hurt him of course, and he might turn round and
snap at her, not exactly meaning to hurt her either, but still--it might
be rather bad, you see." Mary's face grew very grave.
"I never thought of that," she said solemnly. "It would be dedful for
dear little baby Dolly to be hurted, though I'm kite sure Fuzzy wouldn't
mean it."
"But when Dolly's a good bit bigger, and when Fuzzy is quite a trained
dog, he may come into the house sometimes, mayn't he?" said Leigh.
"At Auntie Maud's," said Artie, "there's _free_ dogs always lying in the
hall. They get up and come and sniff you when you go in. When I was a
little boy I was frightened of them, but they never bit me."
"Ah! well," said his father, "when Dolly's a big girl and Fuzzy's a big
dog, we'll see. Some dogs are very good indeed with little children; I
hope he'll be. I remember seeing a great Newfoundland that let his
master's children ride on his back, just as if he was a little pony. He
stalked along as steadily as possible."
"And in some countries," said Leigh eagerly, "dogs are taught to draw
little carriages, aren't they? I've seen pictures of them, up where
there's such lots of snow near the top of the world. Squim--something,
those people are called."
"Esquimaux, you mean, I suppose," said his father laughing. He had put
down Mary by this time, and they were walking on slowly up the hill
towards the Lavender Cottages. "Yes, and in other countries not so far
off I've seen dogs drawing little carts as soberly as possible."
"I _would_ like to see that!" said Artie, his eyes sparkling.
"And so would I!" said Mary.
And Leigh, though he said nothing, took the idea into his mind more than
either of the others.
By this time they were close to the top of the little hill where stood
the cottages of which we have spoken so often--the Lavender Cottages as
they were called; because once, a good many years ago, an old man lived
there, whose lavender was famed all about that part of the country. He
had a garden, almost like a little field, quite full of it. This garden
belonged to one of the end cottages, and it was now a regular cottage
kitchen-garden, with potatoes and cabbages and other vegetables growing
in it, though in one corner there was still a nice little stock of the
old lavender bushes. Here lived an old woman and her son, named
Sweeting. Mrs Sweeting had once been cook at the hall when the
children's father was a little boy, and she was always pleased to have a
visit from any of them.
"I hear poor old Mrs Sweeting has been ill," said papa; "I'll just go
in for a minute or two to see her. You children can wait outside for
me."
The boys and Mary were not sorry to do so. They were always fond of
coming to the Lavender Cottages, not only to see Mrs Sweeting who was
very kind to them, but because they were much interested in the family
of children who lived next door. There were such a lot of them! The
cottage would never have held them all; but luckily, in the third
cottage, at the other end again, lived the grandfather and grandmother
of the large family, and some of the bigger boys had a room in their
house. Still there were plenty left in the middle cottage, as you will
hear.