Beautiful Joe by Marshall Saunders (read people like a book TXT) 📖

for when they

were with me, I did not mind so much the tingling in my ears, and the

terrible pain in my back. They soon brought me some nice food, but I

could not touch it; so they went away to their play, and I lay in the

box they put me in, trembling with pain, and wishing that the pretty

young lady was there, to stroke me with her gentle fingers.

 

By-and-by it got dark. The boys finished their play, and went into the

house, and I saw lights twinkling in the windows. I felt lonely and

miserable in this strange place. I would not have gone back to Jenkins'

for the world, still it was the only home I had known, and though I felt

that I should be happy here, I had not yet gotten used to the change.

Then the pain all through my body was dreadful. My head seemed to be on

fire, and there were sharp, darting pains up and down my backbone. I did

not dare to howl, lest I should make the big dog, Jim, angry. He was

sleeping in a kennel, out in the yard.

 

The stable was very quiet. Up in the loft above, some rabbits that I had

heard running about had now gone to sleep. The guinea pig was nestling

in the corner of his box, and the cat and the tame rat had scampered

into the house long ago.

 

At last I could bear the pain no longer, I sat up in my box and looked

about me. I felt as if I was going to die, and, though I was very weak,

there was something inside me that made me feel as if I wanted to crawl

away somewhere out of sight. I slunk out into the yard, and along the

stable wall, where there was a thick clump of raspberry bushes. I crept

in among them and lay down in the damp earth. I tried to scratch off my

bandages, but they were fastened on too firmly, and I could not do it. I

thought about my poor mother, and wished she was here to lick my sore

ears. Though she was so unhappy herself, she never wanted to see me

suffer. If I had not disobeyed her, I would not now be suffering so much

pain. She had told me again and again not to snap at Jenkins, for it

made him worse.

 

In the midst of my trouble I heard a soft voice calling, "Joe! Joe!" It

was Miss Laura's voice, but I felt as if there were weights on my paws,

and I could not go to her.

 

"Joe! Joe!" she said, again. She was going up the walk to the stable,

holding up a lighted lamp in her hand. She had on a white dress, and I

watched her till she disappeared in the stable. She did not stay long in

there. She came out and stood on the gravel. "Joe, Joe, Beautiful Joe,

where are you? You are hiding somewhere, but I shall find you." Then she

came right to the spot where I was. "Poor doggie," she said, stooping

down and patting me. "Are you very miserable, and did you crawl away to

die? I have had dogs to do that before, but I am not going to let you

die, Joe." And she set her lamp on the ground, and took me in her arms.

 

I was very thin then, not nearly so fat as I am now, still I was quite

an armful for her. But she did not seem to find me heavy. She took me

right into the house, through the back door, and down a long flight of

steps, across a hall, and into a snug kitchen.

 

"For the land sakes, Miss Laura," said a woman who was bending over a

stove, "what have you got there?"

 

"A poor sick dog, Mary," said Miss Laura, seating herself on a chair.

"Will you please warm a little milk for him? And have you a box or a

basket down here that he can lie in?"

 

"I guess so," said the woman; "but he's awful dirty; you're not going to

let him sleep in the house, are you?"

 

"Only for to-night. He is very ill. A dreadful thing happened to him,

Mary." And Miss Laura went on to tell her how my ears had been cut off.

 

"Oh, that's the dog the boys were talking about," said the woman. "Poor

creature, he's welcome to all I can do for him." She opened a closet

door, and brought out a box, and folded a piece of blanket for me to lie

Then she heated some milk in a saucepan, and poured it in a saucer,

and watched me while Miss Laura went upstairs to get a little bottle of

something that would make me sleep. They poured a few drops of this

medicine into the milk and offered it to me.

 

I lapped a little, but I could not finish it, even though Miss Laura

coaxed me very gently to do so. She dipped her finger in the milk and

held it out to me, and though I did not want it, I could not be

ungrateful enough to refuse to lick her finger as often as she offered

it to me. After the milk was gone, Mary lifted up my box, and carried me

into the washroom that was off the kitchen.

 

I soon fell sound asleep, and could not rouse myself through the night,

even though I both smelled and heard some one coming near me several

times. The next morning I found out that it was Miss Laura. Whenever

there was a sick animal in the house, no matter if it was only the tame

rat, she would get up two or three times in the night, to see if there

was anything she could do to make it more comfortable.

 

 

 

 

 

       *       *       *       *       *

 

CHAPTER V (MY NEW HOME AND A SELFISH LADY)

I don't believe that a dog could have fallen into a happier home than I

did. In a week, thanks to good nursing, good food, and kind words, I was

almost well. Mr. Harry washed and dressed my sore ears and tail every

day till he went home, and one day, he and the boys gave me a bath out

in the stable. They carried out a tub of warm water and stood me in it.

I had never been washed before in my life, and it felt very queer. Miss

Laura stood by laughing and encouraging me not to mind the streams of

water trickling all over me. I couldn't help wondering what Jenkins

would have said if he could have seen me in that tub.

 

That reminds me to say, that two days after I arrived at the Morrises',

Jack, followed by all the other boys, came running into the stable. He

had a newspaper in his hand, and with a great deal of laughing and

joking, read this to me:

 

"'Fairport Daily News', June 3d. In the police court this morning,

James Jenkins, for cruelly torturing and mutilating a dog, fined ten

dollars and costs."

 

Then he said, "What do you think of that, Joe? Five dollars apiece for

your ears and your tail thrown in. That's all they're worth in the eyes

of the law. Jenkins has had his fun and you'll go through life worth

about three-quarters of a dog. I'd lash rascals like that. Tie them up

and flog them till they were scarred and mutilated a little bit

themselves. Just wait till I'm president. But there's some more, old

fellow. Listen: 'Our reporter visited the house of the above-mentioned

Jenkins, and found a most deplorable state of affairs. The house, yard

and stable were indescribably filthy. His horse bears the marks of

ill-usage, and is in an emaciated condition. His cows are plastered up

with mud and filth, and are covered with vermin. Where is our health

inspector, that he does not exercise a more watchful supervision over

establishments of this kind? To allow milk from an unclean place like

this to be sold in the town, is endangering the health of its

inhabitants. Upon inquiry, it was found that the man Jenkins bears a

very bad character. Steps are being taken to have his wife and children

removed from him.'"

 

Jack threw the paper into my box, and he and the other boys gave three

cheers for the 'Daily News' and then ran away. How glad I was! It

did not matter so much for me, for I had escaped him, but now that it

had been found out what a cruel man he was, there would be a restraint

upon him, and poor Toby and the cows would have a happier time.

 

I was going to tell about the Morris family.

 

There were Mr. Morris, who was a clergyman and preached in a church in

Fairport; Mrs. Morris, his wife; Miss Laura, who was the eldest of the

family; then Jack, Ned, Carl, and Willie. I think one reason why they

were such a good family was because Mrs. Morris was such a good woman.

She loved her husband and children, and did everything she could to make

them happy.

 

Mr. Morris was a very busy man and rarely interfered in household

affairs. Mrs. Morris was the one who said what was to be done and what

was not to be done. Even then, when I was a young dog, I used to think

that she was very wise. There was never any noise or confusion in the

house, and though there was a great deal of work to be done, everything

went on smoothly and pleasantly, and no one ever got angry and scolded

as they did in the Jenkins family.

 

Mrs. Morris was very particular about money matters. Whenever the boys

came to her for money to get such things as candy and ice cream,

expensive toys, and other things that boys often crave, she asked them

why they wanted them. If it was for some selfish reason, she said,

firmly: "No, my children; we are not rich people, and we must save our

money for your education. I cannot buy you foolish things."

 

If they asked her for money for books or something to make their pet

animals more comfortable, or for their outdoor games, she gave it to

them willingly. Her ideas about the bringing up of children I cannot

explain as clearly as she can herself, so I will give part of a

conversation that she had with a lady who was calling on her shortly

after I came to Washington Street.

 

I happened to be in the house at the time. Indeed, I used to spend the

greater part of my time in the house. Jack one day looked at me, and

exclaimed: "Why does that dog stalk about, first after one and then

after another, looking at us with such solemn eyes?"

 

I wished that I could speak to tell him that I had so long been used to

seeing animals kicked about and trodden upon, that I could not get used

to the change. It seemed too good to be true. I could scarcely believe

that dumb animals had rights; but while it lasted, and human beings were

so kind to me, I wanted to be with them all the time. Miss Laura

understood. She drew my head up to her lap, and put her face down to me:

"You like to be with us, don't you, Joe? Stay in the house as much as

you like. Jack doesn't mind, though he speaks so sharply. When you get

tired of us go out in the garden and have a romp with Jim."

 

But I must return to the conversation I referred to. It was one fine

June day, and Mrs. Morris was sewing in a rocking-chair by the window. I

was beside her, sitting on a hassock, so that I could look out into the

street. Dogs love variety and excitement, and