THE more Toby tried to think out a plan for action, the more undecided
he became, as is always the way with weak natures. The sun was now up,
and the great city was stirring with life. Wagons from the outlying
towns were coming into the city, shops were being opened, and sidewalks
and front steps were being washed and swept. But in the midst of all
this busy life not a soul had a thought for the poor little lost dog.
One boy, carrying a can of milk, did stop to pat him, but he had no
time to waste, and passed on.
“Oh, what shall I do? What _shall_ I do?” moaned Toby, helplessly.
“Such a big, big world, and no place for me!”
At the corner of a distant street he saw a group of dogs, all larger
than he was. They seemed, by the sound of their voices, to be
quarrelling, and Toby did not dare venture near them. He knew by
experience that when dogs are in a quarrelsome state of mind they are
on the lookout for some object upon which to vent their excitement,
and it was more than likely that they would turn the current of this
excitement upon him, a stranger in the city. City dogs, too, as a
general thing, do not like dogs from the country.
While Toby looked, the voices grew louder and more angry, and Toby knew
that the next move would be a general scrimmage, in which each dog
would blindly fight with the one nearest him, or, what was worse still,
all of them would attack one of the number. It is only the meanest kind
of dogs who do that, but tramp-street dogs are apt to do it. “What if
they should all fall upon me?” said timid little Toby; and without
stopping to see more, off he set at full speed.
The streets were now broader, and there were dwelling-houses
everywhere, instead of shops. Gradually the city was growing farther
and farther away, and before long fields and groups of trees were seen.
Toby turned into a broad avenue, and suddenly found himself in the
country. Broad fields lay around him, and just beyond appeared forest
trees. A pond, now frozen over, stood in one of the fields, and on
it were groups of happy children skating or playing games. Toby had
never heard of a park, and he wondered to see the roads so level and
everything so trim and neat. He stopped to rest and watch the children
on the ice. Soon the attention of the children was attracted to him.
Toby was fond of children, and when he saw a little boy coming towards
him he began to wag his tail in greeting. Then he jumped upon him and
tried to express his pleasure at meeting anybody who had a kind word
for him.
“Poor little fellow!” said the boy, stooping to pat the lost dog. “I am
afraid you are lost, and I think I had better take you to the Home.”
As he spoke, he took a leash from his pocket and was about to fasten it
to Toby’s collar, when away darted Toby as fast as his legs could carry
him.
“The foolish little dog!” exclaimed the boy, as he rolled up his leash
and put it back in his pocket. “I could have found a nice home for you
if you hadn’t been so silly.”
Toby did not know that this boy had saved the lives of many stray dogs
by taking them to the Home provided for those unfortunates. He always
carried a leash in his pocket for that purpose, and his bright young
eyes were very quick to detect a stray dog.
All that Toby knew about these public homes was what he had seen and
heard of the poorhouse in his native town. He had seen old men and
women sitting out on the benches under the trees in the summer time,
and he had seen their faces looking out of the windows in the winter
time. They looked to him very listless and forlorn, but he did not
know what would have been the fate of these aged people if they had
not had the shelter of this home. He had also heard people say, “Why,
I had rather go to the poorhouse than do that,” and so he had come to
consider that going to such an institution was about the worst thing
that could happen to anybody. A poorhouse for dogs Toby thought must be
a dreadful place, and he resolved that he would rather roam the streets
at the risk of starving or freezing than allow himself to be taken to
one.
So Toby ran until he reached the woods that he saw before him, and when
he found that the boy was not following him he slackened his pace.
Everything seemed very quiet and peaceful about him. Occasionally a
crow cawed from one of the tall hemlocks, the harsh voices of blue-jays
reached him from the clumps of neighboring trees, and the squirrels,
running along the branches or jumping from tree to tree, chatted in a
friendly manner with one another. Sparrows were there also, as happy
and satisfied with themselves as if their constant twittering were
melodious songs.
Toby watched all these inhabitants of the woods with great interest,
for the country-bred dog had often watched them, and he knew their
ways. It was soon evident to Toby that these little creatures were
expecting something to take place, and something of a pleasant nature,
too, for they were all in a happy mood. The sparrows flew backward
and forward, sometimes disappearing for a while, but always turning
up again as cheerful as ever. A flock of pigeons also appeared, and,
alighting on the snow, some walked about in search of any stray morsels
of food which might have been overlooked, while others took advantage
of this opportunity to put their plumage in order.
Toby, curious to see what it could be that these little creatures were
expecting, secreted himself behind a clump of barberry bushes and
waited. He thought his presence was not noticed, but he was mistaken.
The bright little eyes of the nuthatch were on him, and he was trying
his best to find out something about the stranger. Creeping along
the under side of a large limb that grew near the spot where Toby sat
hidden, the bright eyes watched every motion, for nuthatches are timid
birds and very suspicious of strangers.
All at once the sparrows who had disappeared from sight came flying
back in great excitement, twittering as they flew: “Coming! Coming! He
is almost here!” and immediately secured favorable positions on the
outskirts of the party.
No sooner had the sparrows settled themselves, than a sleigh drawn
by two handsome horses was seen approaching at a rapid rate. In the
sleigh were two little boys and a middle-aged gentleman. One of the
boys sprang out as soon as the sleigh stopped, and Toby noticed that he
had a basket in his hand. The other boy sat still until the gentleman
alighted and lifted him carefully out.
“Here they are, Billy!” exclaimed the little boy who had jumped out.
“They are all here, and Dick the Scrapper is here too, just as cross
as ever. Oh, you ought to see how handsome the squirrels look!”
“Can’t he see for himself, without that smart little chap telling him?”
muttered Toby to himself.
“No, he can’t,” replied a voice from above. “Don’t you see that he is
not a seeing child?”
Toby started, to find that he had been overheard, and looking up saw
the little nuthatch hanging head downward, eying him sharply.
“I didn’t know you were there,” murmured Toby, taken greatly by
surprise.
“I know you didn’t. I’ve been watching you for some time, and I can see
that you are a lost dog.”
Meanwhile Sam was scattering the contents of his basket far and wide,
reserving the finest of the nuts to tempt the squirrels to eat from
his hand. He did not forget the little blind boy, and gave the largest
share to him to hold.
As Toby looked from the face of the little boy who was lending his
eyes to his blind friend to the genial one of his grandpapa, he began
to be puzzled. “Where have I seen those faces before?” he said to
himself. “I am sure I have seen them somewhere. I know I have heard the
gentleman’s voice, too. You don’t hear such a pleasant one every day;”
and Toby shuddered as he recalled the harsh tones of the father of the
family.
Suddenly the vision of three children and a little dog looking
longingly in at the tempting display of a bake-shop rose before Toby’s
eyes, and he exclaimed aloud: “I have it! That is the gentleman who
gave the cakes to little Maysie! and how good they did taste!”
“I thought I heard a dog bark!” cried the little boy who had brought
the basket. “Didn’t you hear him, Grandpa?”
“Yes,” replied the gentleman, “and it came from behind those bushes.”
Sam ran around the clump of barberry bushes, and there crouched Toby,
trembling with excitement and anxiety. The kindly expression in the
little boy’s face, and the pleasant tones of his voice, however, won
the confidence of the timid little dog, and he made no resistance when
Sam stooped and took him up in his arms.
“He is a lost dog,” said Grandpapa, gently stroking Toby’s head. “It
will never do for him to wander around in this bleak place. We must
look after him.”
“I will wrap him up in the fur robe, and then he will be as warm as
toast,” replied Sam, carrying the little dog to the sleigh. When he was
placed in one corner of the roomy sleigh, on the soft cushion, and the
warm fur robe securely tucked about him, Toby was as comfortable as any
dog could hope to be.
Sam did not linger so long as usual this morning, feeding the birds and
squirrels. Finding a stray dog was an unusual excitement for him, and
he was eager to look after him. So he quickly emptied the contents of
his basket upon the snow, and the party started for home, leaving the
crumbs and nuts to be eaten at leisure.
Toby sat between the two boys, each having an arm around him, and the
sleigh started. Toby had never had a sleigh-ride before, and the rapid
motion of the sleigh, with the jingling of the bells quite excited him.
He sat up very straight, and pricked up his ears, while his little
black turned-up nose sniffed the fresh cool air.
“I can keep him, can’t I, Grandpapa?” asked Sam, hugging the little dog
closely to him; and Toby listened anxiously for the answer.
“I am afraid Grandmamma would not like the idea of having him around
the house,” replied Grandpapa. “A city house isn’t a good place to keep
a dog in.”
“But I could keep him tied up in the washroom.” Toby looked anxiously
from one to the other, while his fate was being settled.
“Oh, he would be a very unhappy little dog tied up by himself, Sam,”
said Grandpapa.
“Well, he could play out in the back yard, you know, and he could go to
drive with us,” pleaded Sam.
“He wouldn’t be happy kept so, Sam. He would feel like a little
prisoner. I am sure by his looks that he came from the country, and he
has probably had open fields to run about in. I don’t believe he was
ever kept tied.”
“What can we do with him, then?” asked Sam. “If he can’t tell us where
his home is, how can we take him back? I hope you don’t mean to have
the poor little fellow lost again;” and Sam’s face grew as anxious as
Toby’s.
“Of course I mean to provide for him, Sam,” said Grandpapa. “It is true
we can’t take him to his own home, as he isn’t able to speak and tell
us where it is, but we will do the next best thing. We will take him
to the Home that receives all the stray dogs and cats that are taken
there. It is called the ‘Animal Rescue League.’”
At these words Toby took alarm and gave a great bound to free himself.
In another instant he would have leapt from the sleigh, but Sam was
ready for him and tightened his grasp on the foolish little fellow.
“Why, he tried to jump out of the sleigh,” said Sam. “Do you suppose he
heard what you said, Grandpapa?”
“Dogs often seem to understand what is said about them,” replied
Grandpapa; “but he would be very foolish to object to being taken to
such a pleasant place. He will have the kindest care until a good home
is found for him.”
“Will they let him play?” asked Sam, greatly interested, and continuing
to keep a strong hold upon the struggling Toby.
“Certainly they will, and he will find other dogs there too. I don’t
doubt he will have a fine time.”
Foolish Toby kept up his struggles at intervals, for he couldn’t bear
the thought of being taken to the Home. “A dog’s poorhouse, that is
what it is,” he said to himself.
“I wonder how they happened to think of making a home for dogs that are
lost,” said Sam.
“I can tell you what I know about it,” said Grandpapa. “A very
tender-hearted lady who loves dogs and cats, thought there should be
some place in the city where lost and neglected animals could be sent.
So she went about to see people, and wrote letters about it until she
got people sufficiently interested to give money towards it. Then they
hired a house in the middle of the city, and all the stray dogs and
cats people find are taken there and kindly cared for.”
“That lady must be very kind,” said Sam, thoughtfully. “I should like
to see her.”
“Perhaps you will some day. They had a Christmas-tree for the dogs and
cats last year, and I’m told they all had a fine time.”
Sam burst out laughing, and Billy laughed too, to think of a
Christmas-tree for dogs and cats.
“I suppose they put on it all sorts of things that dogs and cats
like,” said Sam, “bones and cakes and all such things.”
“Perhaps they put on some things for them to play with,” said Billy,
who had listened with great interest to all Mr. Ledwell had said about
the Home.
“I shouldn’t wonder if they did,” said Grandpapa.
“And I guess they put saucers of milk and plates of nice food under the
tree,” said Billy, who had a good deal of imagination.
Toby listened to this conversation and ceased to struggle. All this
sounded very well, if it were true, but he expected to find at the Home
dogs sitting about listlessly, just as he had seen the old people at
the poorhouse in his town. The story of the Christmas-tree pleased him
greatly. “Perhaps, after all, it is not so bad as I expected,” said
Toby to himself, as the sleigh stopped.
“Here we are!” said Grandpapa, as he got out and took Toby in his arms.
“It doesn’t look like a Home,” said poor Toby to himself. He had
expected to see a large brick building standing by itself like the
poorhouse. “It looks just like the other houses.”
“Don’t be afraid, little fellow,” said Mr. Ledwell, as he felt Toby
tremble. “Nobody is going to hurt you. You stay in the sleigh with
Billy, Sam. I will bring you both to see the little dog when he feels
at home.”
Mr. Ledwell entered the house and set the little dog on the floor. Poor
Toby was so limp from fear that he could hardly stand, but remained in
the spot where he was placed with drooping head and tail.
“I have brought you a new dog,” said Mr. Ledwell, addressing a
rosy-cheeked young woman. “Have you a place for him?”
“He doesn’t take up much room, that is certain,” replied the young
woman, stooping to pat the frightened little creature. “Yes, I guess we
can manage it.”
At these words in rushed two little terriers, and bouncing upon the
limp and terrified Toby, at once knocked him over in their attempt to
engage him in play.
“You ought to be more polite to strangers,” said the rosy-cheeked young
woman, picking up Toby and putting him on a chair out of the reach of
the two lively terriers, who pretended that they had treed their game
and took short runs up to the chair, barking themselves into a state of
great excitement.
“We’ll give him something to eat, and he’ll soon be all right,” said
the pleasant young woman.
The excitement of the terriers over the new arrival had telegraphed
the news throughout the Home, and the deep voices of large dogs and
the high voices of smaller ones all extended a welcome to the little
wanderer. Their tones told of kind treatment and comfort, and Toby was
comforted. “How different,” he thought, “from a poorhouse! This must be
a good place!”