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Show Freddy and John wanted a dog but they weren't getting far with their plea Then a stray mongrel wandered upon the scene one day and caused a great deal of excitement. . tt THY, how do you do! Won't W you come In?" asked Mother the opened the front door. Both Freddie and I looked up to see who the caller might be. The shades were drawn In the liv-In liv-In room, so we couldn't see who was standing on the porch. Mother nnd darkened the room to protect Freddy's eyes because Freddy had ; the measles. He was covered with t blanket and curled up on the day bed which had been moved down from upstairs. I was spread out on the floor with the erector set. We waited to see the unexpected visitor, and Imagine our surprise when in walked a big brown dog. The newcomer trotted across the room to inspect me. and I patted him on the head. Then he went over to the day bed and nuzzled his big bead against Freddy, as much as to say: "Hi, there, Bud, I ve come to help you get well!" "0, gee, Mom," cried Freddy excitedly, ex-citedly, " dog! Can we keep him. Mom? Where did he come from? What's his name?" "Now, now, not bo fast, son," interrupted in-terrupted Mother, as she settled j Freddy under the blanket again, j "He Just came to the door when I went to get the mail, and I thought j maybe he'd help you pass the time i while you're closed up here with the measles. Do you like him?" "Boy, I'll say," Freddy and I chanted in unison, "he's swell!" The newcomer, who was busy in-ipecting in-ipecting the premises, was just dog; part alredale, part hound. He was big, grayish-brown, and would have passed for a genuine airedale if he hadn't had those big floppy, ! ' hound-dog ears. We had always wanted a dog but Dad said we didn't have a place for dog, and he wouldn't have one if he had to keep it tied. "What'll we call him, Mom?" I asked eagerly. "Why don't you and Freddy fig- J ore that out for yourself, son," she i aid as she went toward the kitchen to get dinner under way. j All my life I had wanted people to call me Jack, because I liked it for a nickname; but all I ever heard was Just plain John, so I said: "Let's call him Jack, Freddy." "Yeah Jack's a good name all right Here, Jack, come over here, Id boy!" he called to the dog. And Jack wagged his tail, put his big front paws up on the couch, and licked Freddy on the nose. "Gosh, look, John," said Freddy, "he knows his name already." We had a wonderful time with Jack until Dad came home. "What's going on here?" he called when he saw the dog stretched out on the living room floor. "Where did that mongrel come from?" "He came to help me get well. Dad," piped Freddy from his haven on the day bed, Freddy always could work Dad for most anything, and when he finished fin-ished telling Dad how the dog just . practically came up and knocked on the door to help Freddy get well, Dad Just grinned and said grudgingly: grudg-ingly: "Well, I guess we can keep him for a while . . . until you get well anyhow." But after Freddy got well. Jack I itayed. Dad kicked about it a little, but he finally agreed to let us have Jack if we kept him in the basement at night, and the dog didn't get into any trouble. We both promised! But keeping Jack out of trouble was like trying to keep water from flowing down-bill. down-bill. Everything went along fine until un-til Mr. Westour came over to complain com-plain that Jack had dug up his garden gar-den to bury a bone. All our efforts to explain didn't appease Dad very much, and he was disgusted. Then Jack chased Roush's cat, and the cat got caught in the porch railing and couldn't get out until old man Roush sawed the railing loose. Naturally, he wasn't too pleased about that. Dad was adamant by that time, and insisted Jack would have to go. He had found some farmer who would take the dog. But Jack had a knack for taking things into his own hands, or I guess we ought to say, his own paws! He had a habit of following us to school, but we'd usually chase him home after a block or two. But one morning, when the snow was coming com-ing down pretty heavily, Jack trotted trot-ted along behind us. "Go back. Jack," I shouted at him. "Go on home, old boy," but the dog kept trotting along behind us. I threw stones at him and tried everything I could think of, but he ' ' i ' i iM until about a month later. One of the neighbori said: "You know, I think I saw your dog this morning over at the Whit-tier Whit-tier school. He was outside wateh-ing wateh-ing the children as they came out. I stopped the car and turned around, but by the time I went back to look for him, he was gone." Mother replied that Jack was probably making the rounds of the schools looking for us. We kept searching and hoping, renewed by the news that Jack was still alive. But we didn't have much time to hunt for him. as I was practicing every night for a school play. The night of the play's performance we almost found Jack again. During the second act, there was a lot of commotion near the back of the auditorium, and several ushers ran up and down the aisles. It was pretty hard for us to enact the scene with all that commotion going on in the auditorium. On the way home, I asked Mom what the noise was, and she laughed. "I think It was your old friend," she replied. - "What do you- mean, Mom?" I questioned. "Why a dog got in during the play and made a bee-line for the stage But keeping Jack out of trouble was like trying to keep water from flowing downhill. kept coming right along. Nothing we could do would persuade him to go back. We knew we'd be late if we didn't hurry, so we went on to schooL As we entered the building, Freddy shouted to the dog: "You wait here till we come out, Jack!" I asked my teacher if I could bring Jack in, and she gave consent con-sent if I would promise to keep him quiet. I hurried out to find him, but Jack had disappeared. WHEN we got home that night, Mother asked: "Where's Jack? I haven't seen him all day." "He followed us to school this morning. Mamma," I explained, "but when I came out to get him, he was gone." "Well, I suppose that saves your father the trouble of getting rid of him," she said. "Take oil your coats and hang them up to dry. You're all wet from the snow." No one had much to say at the supper table that night. Even Dad was pretty quiet, and he went to the window several times to look out before we went to bed. Two dejected little boys prayed fervently for the safe-keeping of a lost dog that night. We rolled and tossed all night long, wondering where our pet might be. That was the last we saw of Jack when the ushers caught him. I looked around to see four of them dragging him up the aisle, and it looked for all the world like Jack." "But let's go back and look for him," I cried. "Your father and I did look for him, son, as soon as the play was over," said Mother as the car turned in the driveway at home. "But we couldn't find him anywhere. I guess we're just not supposed to have him back anymore." But two days later, just as suddenly sud-denly as he had gone, Jack came home! Freddy was out shoveling snow off the sidewalk, and Jack came bounding up the street just like he'd never been away from home. Everyone welcomed Jiim back, and even Dad didn't say a word. But our pleasure In our dog didn't last long. About a month later, Jack was lying on the front porch. Teddy Long, a tot about two who lived across the street from us, was playing on the sidewalk in front of his house. He toddled toward the curb, and was climbing down into the street when Jack leaped to the center of the street, barking furiously furi-ously at the youngster. Just then a car came around the corner, and struck Jack. Jack wasn't dead, but nearly all his ribs were broken. Dad sat up with him through two long nights, feeding him and nursing nurs-ing him, but old Jack just couldn't j make it. I Our only consolation was that Jack had undoubtedly sacrificed his life to save little Teddy; for the car could have struck the youngster just as easily. But this was a logic difficult dif-ficult for youngsters to understand. Freddy cried as though his heart would break, and I guess I was pretty tearful myself. After waiting so long to get our j dog back. It was pretty tough, hav-i hav-i ing to lose him so soon. Things were j so glum around the house that Mother decided we ought to have a party to cheer things up. But it was no use . . . nothing could take tne place of our lost dog. Even j when spring came and Dad took us i on a fishing trip, something was ! missing. i We were sitting on the porch one j afternoon waiting for Dad to come home for supper. Freddy sighed and said: "Poor old Jack." Mother asked. "Boys, you're surely sure-ly not moaning about that dog yet. i are you?" j Just then Dad swung the car into ; the driveway. From along side the house, we heard him honk the horn. ! Freddy ran to see what he wanted, i Suddenly, he burst around the cor-i cor-i ner of the house, carrying a squirm-I squirm-I ing puppy In his arms and shouting: j "Hey. Mom, look what Daddy brought home. He's our new dog, j Mom . , . and you know what his , j name Is, Mom? His name Is Jack!" I Mom looked at Dad and smiled, and I thought I saw Just the least sign of a tear in thc corner of Dad's eye, as the new puppy kissed Freddy Fred-dy on the nos |
