The Tale of Old Dog Spot Part 7

Old dog Spot wagged his tail feebly. But it was hard to wait.

"It wouldn't be so bad," he said to himself, "if there was only somebody to play with. If there was a puppy here on the farm I'd have some one that would be ready to romp whenever I felt like it. And then Johnnie could go away visiting every summer and I wouldn't miss him half as much."

Spot forgot that a puppy wouldn't stay a puppy forever.

XV

A BASKETFUL OF FUN

Johnnie Green came home from his visit at last. The moment Spot heard the old horse Ebenezer come jogging up the road he tore out of the yard and ran, barking, to meet the travellers. He frisked about the buggy, he sprang up and touched Ebenezer's nose with his own, he tried to jump into the buggy beside Johnnie Green.

Spot made such a racket that everybody in the farmhouse knew that Johnnie had returned. The family were just sitting down for dinner. And they all hurried out into the yard. For old dog Spot was not the only one that had missed Johnnie while he was away on his visit.

Johnnie leaped out of the buggy, to be met by a smother of pawings and nosings from old Spot.

"Now, Spot--you behave!" said Johnnie Green. "I'm hungry and I want to get my dinner."

Spot paid not the slightest heed to his young master's objections.

"You'll never know how I've missed you," he barked. "And if I want to romp with you for a few minutes, I'm going to; and n.o.body can stop me."

After a little Spot grew a bit calmer. He let Johnnie Green turn to the buggy and lift out a covered basket.

Spot promptly stuck his nose against it. Then he drew back quickly.

"Wow!" he exclaimed. "This basket smells _doggy!_"

Spot followed Johnnie into the house. And in the woodshed Johnnie opened the basket and brought out of it a soft, silky, blinking--puppy!

"Wow!" said Spot again. "It was no wonder that I noticed a doggy smell about that basket." And then he said, "G-r-r-r!"

Yes! Spot actually growled at the little newcomer. For the moment he forgot that he had been wis.h.i.+ng, for days, that there was a puppy about the place. To tell the truth, he couldn't help feeling the least bit jealous of Johnnie Green's new pet.

In a day or two, however, old Spot liked the puppy as much as anybody else did. He proved to be a playful little chap. And the older he grew the more fun-loving he became.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Sometimes the Puppy Would Bite Spot's Tail.

(_Page 73_)]

There were no more dull days for old dog Spot. When school opened in the fall he no longer moped around the farmhouse, waiting for Johnnie to come home. The puppy kept him too busy to notice Johnnie's absence.

At first Spot found it very pleasant to roll on the ground with his small friend, and pretend to bite him, and upset him off his somewhat wobbly legs. But as time pa.s.sed Spot began to weary of never-ending play. There were moments when Spot wanted to lie still and doze. But as soon as he had settled himself for a nap the puppy was sure to come bouncing up and sprawl all over him. He would seize one of Spot's long ears between his teeth and give it a bit of a nip. Sometimes he would even pull Spot's tail.

Of course n.o.body can sleep under such interruptions. Spot learned that when he wanted to rest he had to hide in some place where the puppy couldn't follow him. And as the puppy became bigger Spot found it harder to slip away from him. The youngster would trail Spot into the barn and even as far as the hay-stack in the meadow.

Once the old dog had _wished_ for a puppy. Now, however, he could scarcely wait for this lively youngster to grow into a dog.

A whole year pa.s.sed before Spot had any peace again. And when another summer had come, and Johnnie Green went visiting again, Spot muttered with a deep groan:

"I hope Johnnie will have sense enough not to bring another puppy with him when he comes home."

XVI

MRS. WOODCHUCK RUNS

Mrs. Woodchuck was on her way home, waddling across the pasture. She had been making a call on Aunt Polly Woodchuck, the herb doctor, who lived under the hill. They had talked over all the news in the neighborhood.

And Mrs. Woodchuck had her mind on some gossip that Aunt Polly had told her. Otherwise she might have noticed sooner that old dog Spot had spied her.

If he hadn't spoken he would certainly have caught her that time. For Mrs. Woodchuck was fat and couldn't run as fast as she used to. But when Spot's keen nose caught a scent that told him there was one of the Woodchuck family not far away he just had to give one long-drawn howl.

When Mrs. Woodchuck heard that dreadful sound she scurried for home. She dropped her knitting and the apple that Aunt Polly had given her. And she only managed to pop down the hole that was her front door with Spot scarcely a length behind her.

"Just missed her!" the old dog yelped. "How unlucky!"

"Just escaped!" Mrs. Woodchuck gasped. "How fortunate!"

She knew that she was safe. So she took her own time in crawling through the long hall that led to her one-room dwelling.

"Dear me!" she exclaimed as she entered her underground home and saw that it was empty. "Mr. Woodchuck and Billy are away. I must hurry and warn them that old dog Spot is prowling about the pasture."

Meanwhile Spot lingered at Mrs. Woodchuck's front door. He scratched in the dirt that was thrown up before it. He sniffed at the tracks that the Woodchuck family had made all about.

"I know now where that fat Mrs. Woodchuck lives," he growled. "I'll keep an eye on this hole. Some day I may be able to get between her and her home. And then--"

He did not finish what he was saying, but licked his lips as if he had just enjoyed a hearty meal.

For a long time Spot waited there. He could hardly have expected Mrs.

Woodchuck to come out and invite him to enter her house. The most that she was likely to do would be to creep not quite to the upper end of her front hall and peer out to see what she could through the small round opening.

"That dame must have a family," Spot thought. "I'd like to meet them--whether there's one youngster or seven. The more the merrier for me."

If Spot had happened to look around just then he would have had his wish granted. Or if the wind had been blowing the other way he could have told, without looking around, that Mrs. Woodchuck's son Billy was gazing at him, with popeyes, from behind a near-by hummock. He had meandered homewards, pausing here and there to nip off a clover head or tear at a plantain leaf, little dreaming that old dog Spot was right in his door-yard.

When he caught sight of the unwelcome caller Billy sat up and took one good, long look at him.

Then Mrs Woodchuck's son turned and ran down the hillside as fast as his short legs would carry him. He didn't stop until he had reached the fence between the pasture and the meadow. Das.h.i.+ng in among the brakes that grew deep along the fence he cowered under the cover that they gave him.

All at once he felt quite ashamed of himself.

"I almost forgot the rule!" he chattered. "The rule says, 'When there's a Dog about, warn everybody!'"