Part 2

James picked me up and carried me out, and he held me so tight I yelped. Out in the hall he dropped me and pushed me with his foot. “Go on upstairs!” he said in a low, fierce voice. “Go on!” And I ran up, and hid under the sofa in the nursery. I was so miserable I didn’t know what to do. I did hope the other dogs wouldn’t come up there. I was ashamed to see them. But it hadn’t been my fault; it was Bijou’s. Only nobody seemed to think of that. If Tommy had been there he would have known. I was his dog, and he loved me and thought I was cute, even if nobody else did like me or want to have me around.

IV

I didn’t see the other dogs until the next day. They came up in the nursery only now and then,--mostly when there wasn’t any fire in the drawing-room or when the mistress was out.

I think she must have been out the next afternoon, and the fire, too, because they came trotting upstairs soon after lunch and came in where I was. I had jumped up in Tommy’s chair and was lying there. I liked to lie in his chair, and someone had laid a cushion on it that morning, so it was soft and warm.

Fifine came over toward the chair and looked at me in a snarly way, and I knew she wanted me to get out of it and let her have it, but I wouldn’t.

Prince Coco sat down close against the radiator. He always chose the hottest place. He yawned, and then he looked over at me in sort of a proud, lazy way.

“Well, I hope you enjoyed yourself with the visitors yesterday,” he said. “Fighting before them all, and upsetting the tea and everything!”

The way he said it made me so mad I couldn’t help growling.

“Perfectly disgraceful,” snarled Fifine. “I never was so ashamed in my life. I’m glad the mistress told them you were Tommy’s dog, and didn’t belong with us.”

I didn’t answer,--just kept up a low growling.

Bijou didn’t say anything. I think he was afraid. I kept watching him, and if he had said anything I was going to jump on him and show him which was the better dog. I was still mad at him for biting me the day before. I think he knew this, for he went over and lay down under the sofa, and then presently he got up again and went out.

Prince Coco kept on mumbling, and I didn’t know whether he was talking to himself or me. “Oh, well! What’s the difference? They’re going away this week, and then it’s good-bye Muffins. You won’t be here long after they go.”

I did wish he would stop talking that way.

A door banged downstairs, and I heard Tommy whistle for me. At once I forgot Prince Coco and all he had been saying. I bounded out of my chair and tore downstairs. There was Tommy waiting for me below. He threw his school-books over on a chair, and then we had a fine romp. We had the rugs all tangled up together and the chairs crooked before we were through.

It was several days before I thought any more of what Prince Coco had said.

Then one morning I heard a bumping sound out in the hall, and I ran out to see what was going on. James was bringing a big leather box down the stairs from the third story. Bijou was out there watching him.

“What’s he bringing that box down for?” I asked.

Bijou and I were friendly again now. He was often friendly with me when the other dogs were not there, and I liked him better than the others, even if he had bitten me that time.

“It isn’t a box, it’s a trunk,” said he. “Every time the family is going away James brings the trunks down and Mary put the clothes in them, and then she shuts the trunks and men come and take them away.”

“So bringing down the trunks means people are going away?”

“Yes,” said Bijou.

“The Mistress and the Master, and Tommy, too?”

“Yes.”

That worried me.

James took that trunk into the mistress’s room, and he went up and brought down another and put it in the master’s room, and then he brought still another and put it in Tommy’s room.

He lifted the top of the one in Tommy’s room, and took part of the trunk out and set it on the floor.

I had followed him into Tommy’s room, and after he went away I jumped in the trunk and sniffed about, but I couldn’t tell much about it except that it smelled of Tommy’s clothes.

After a while Mary came into the room. When she saw me she said, “Get out of that, Muffins. You’re too curious.”

I jumped out of the trunk and sat down by it and watched her. She went over and opened Tommy’s closet and his bureau drawers, and began taking out his clothes and putting them in the trunk. After a while she had it almost full. I sat and watched her. Then she went out of the room for something.

As soon as she had gone I got up and looked into the trunk again. All those clothes of Tommy’s were going, and if I were in the trunk I would go, too.

Right away I knew what to do. I jumped into the trunk and scratched up some of the clothes and got down in a corner and put my head down underneath them, and then I lay there and kept perfectly still.

Soon Mary came back into the room. She moved about and shut a bureau drawer, and then she came over to the trunk. I could hear her.

“Tsch!” she said. “Whoever has been at this trunk!” Then she lifted something off my head. “Well I never!” she cried.

I didn’t move, except that I couldn’t help shaking. I just lay still and pretended I wasn’t there.

Tommy must have come home, for I heard his whistle, but I only snuggled down still further in the trunk, and hoped Mary would go away and forget about me.

Presently he came upstairs, and I heard him asking, “Where is Muffins?”

“He’s in here, Master Tommy!” called Mary.

He came in the room. I could tell by the sound, though I didn’t lift my head or stir.

“Look in here,” said Mary.

Tommy came over to the trunk and looked into it.

“The little beggar!” he cried. “How did he get in there?”

“He must have jumped in while I was out of the room,” said Mary.

“Did you ever know such a dog!” cried Tommy.

A moment after he took hold of me. “Come out of there, you little beggar,” he said.

I tried to get further down under the clothes, but Tommy lifted me out. He was laughing in a funny way, and he put his face against me.

“If you’re not the limit!” he said. “I believe he knows I’m going away, Mary, and he wants to go with me.”

Of _course_ that was what I wanted. I wouldn’t have hidden in the trunk if I hadn’t hoped to go along.

“I don’t see why I can’t take him,” said Tommy. “I’m going to ask mother whether I can’t.”

“You can ask her, but you know she won’t let you,” said Mary.

I suppose she wouldn’t let him, for I know I didn’t go.

The next day the automobile came to the door early and the trunks were carried out, and then Tommy and his father and mother came downstairs with their hats on, and when I jumped up on Tommy he said, “I’m sorry, but you can’t go, old fellow.”

James caught me by the collar and pulled me back. I almost snapped him, he bothered me so. I did snarl and try to wriggle away from him, but I couldn’t.

Then Mary opened the outside door and Tommy and his father and mother went down the steps, and when they were part way down Tommy looked back and called, “Good-bye, Muffins! I’ll be back soon. Take good care of him while I’m away, James. Good-bye!”

And then Mary shut the door, and they were gone.

Prince Coco yawned and stretched himself. “Well, now we’ll have some peace and quiet, with Tommy out of the house!” he said.

That made me so mad I growled and flew at him, but James turned back and said, “Here! Here! None of that! What’s the matter with you, Muffins, anyway?”

Coco didn’t say anything more about Tommy after that. He was afraid to.

He may have liked having the house so quiet, but I didn’t. I was so lonesome without Tommy that I hardly knew what to do with myself. But then he had said he would be back soon. And he had told James to take good care of me, so it was all nonsense about their sending me away and my not being there when Tommy came home again.

V

I was up in Tommy’s room lying under the bed with one of his shoes in my mouth. It was one of his school shoes. I had dragged it out of the closet one day when Mary left the door open. I didn’t feel so lonesome when I had it in my mouth. He had been gone for several days now.

Well, I was lying there, and sometimes I chewed the top of the shoe and sometimes I just held it, and then I heard James whistling and calling me.

I wondered what he wanted, so I left the shoe under the bed where it was safe and ran down to see.

He was standing in the front hall, and Bijou and Fifine were there, too. “Come along, Muffins,” said James, and as soon as I came near enough for him to reach me he picked me up. He held me under his arm and went over to the front door and opened it.

The automobile was standing out in front of the house, and Bijou and Fifine thought we were going for a ride and they wanted to go too, but James pushed them back with his foot and told them to stay at home. He shut the door behind us and went over to the automobile and got up in front beside William. He put me down on his knees but still he held me, and then we started off.

I was very much excited. I had never been in an automobile before. All the other dogs had. I had often watched from the window and seen them starting out with the mistress, but she never took me.

We rolled along down the street, with William holding the wheel, and there were other automobiles and crowds of people, and I saw some other dogs, too.

The wind blew, and I was so excited I barked and barked until James told me to be quiet, and even then I didn’t stop till he held my mouth shut with his hand.

After a while we turned into a narrower street and stopped in front of a queer-looking shop. It had a big window with a sort of cage in it with an upstairs and a downstairs, and puppies and some long-haired cats in it.

William stopped the automobile in front of the shop. “This is the place,” he said.

Then he got down and took me from James and carried me into the shop. I never heard such a noise as there was in there. It had cages all along one side with dogs and cats in them, and some other animals that I didn’t know, and the dogs were barking and yelping, and big green birds were shrieking, and there were chickens making a noise, too.

A man came forward from the back of the shop, and William said, “This is the dog.”

The man took me and looked at me. I didn’t like him. He scared me and I growled at him, but he didn’t pay any attention. “All right!” he said, and then he opened the door of one of the cages and put me in with a lot of other puppies.

He shut the door of the cage and fastened it, and then he gave William some money. William took it and put it in his pocket, but he kept looking at me in a sorry sort of way, and he came up close to the cage and put his fingers through, and said, “Well--good-bye, Muffins, old chap.” Then he turned away.

All of a sudden I knew he meant to leave me there, and I lifted my nose and howled, and yelped and howled again.

William looked back at me, and then he turned to the man and asked him something.

“Oh, he’ll be all right in a little while,” said the man.

William looked at me once more in the same sort of sorry way, and then he went out and the door closed behind him.

He had gone and left me. But if only I could get out of the cage I might still run after him. I cried and whined and tore at the door with my claws, but I couldn’t get it open.

Suddenly I felt a cold nose against mine and a little tongue licked my cheek. One of the other puppies in the cage was trying to make friends with me.

I stopped tearing at the door and sniffed at him, and I liked his smell. He smelled friendly.

After we had smelled each other he gave a sudden little frisk and tried to get me to play, but I sat down and didn’t pay any more attention to him. I felt too sad and lonely to care anything about playing.

“I guess you don’t like it here, do you?” said the little dog.

“No, I don’t, and I want to go home.”

“I’ve been here a long time; oh, a long, long time,” said the puppy. “It’s not so bad.”

“Did you have a home?” I asked.

“Yes, but I don’t often think about it. I guess maybe some time someone will take me away and I may have another home.”

“But I don’t want to stay here a long time,” I said. It made me whine to think of it.

“Well, maybe you won’t. Some of the dogs only stay here a little while. They just come here and then they go away again.”

“Where do they go?”

“People come and get them. I guess they go to different places.”

I looked around the cage and saw there were a great many puppies. None of them were alike. Some were bigger than others, but none of them were very big. They were almost all asleep, some lying on top of others, but presently one of them woke and yawned and got up. He didn’t pay any attention to me, but went over and took a drink of water and licked at a plate that looked as if food had been in it. Then he went back and lay down again.

The friendly puppy and I talked together a a long time. He told me his name was Fido. I told him my name was Muffins.

He said the shop was a place where people came when they wanted an animal. Some of the dogs there were very fine dogs. I told him about Fifine and Bijou and Prince Coco, and he said some of the dogs in the cages around us were just as fine as they were, if not finer. _We_ weren’t, though. None of the dogs in our cage were worth much. He said there was a sign on the front of our cage. He had heard people read it and he knew what it said. It said:

“Just plain dogs! Two dollars and a half apiece.”

I asked him if people seemed to like plain dogs, and he said no; they seemed to like the other dogs better.

Well, it got on toward supper time and I grew hungry. Every now and then I whined and yelped. Then the man came along and put some food in our cage, and the other dogs woke up and we all ate from the plate together. One dog kept growling all the while he ate, but nobody paid any attention to him.

It grew dark in the shop and the man went away, and all the animals were still.

Then came the morning and the noise began again, and the man opened the shop and fed us. People came and went. Sometimes they took a dog or a cat or a bird away with them, but no one took a puppy from our cage. They just looked at us and read the sign and went on.

After a while we were turned out in a dark, narrow yard to run about for a while, and then we were put back in our cage.

Every day it was just the same thing. After awhile I began to sleep most of the time the way the others did. They were stupid dogs, all but Fido. He and I used to play together sometimes, and I liked him. I liked him better than any dog I had ever known.

After I had been there a while--not so very long though--a queer-looking man and woman came to the shop. The woman had a bright hat, and the man had black hair, and eyes that made me feel queer when he looked at me.

He didn’t look at me at first, though. He looked at the finer dogs that were in open cages down below us. They were chained there, and there were no tops or fronts to the cages but just backs and sides to keep the dogs from getting at each other.

The man and woman stopped in front of my cage, and the woman said, “How about a poodle?”

They were looking at the dog just below us.

“No, no! Ab-so-lutely no,” said the man. “We already have two. That is enough.”

Then he raised his eyes and looked straight at me. I was sitting at the front of the cage, and when he looked at me I stood up and wagged my tail and then I grinned.

“See! See!” cried the man, and he caught the woman by the arm. “It is he! The one we want. His eyes, so full of intelligence! And that smile, for it _is_ a smile. There is our clown dog. Just the one we want!”

He turned and snapped his fingers, and called to the shopman in a quick, sharp voice.

The man came hurrying toward him.

“This one,” said the stranger. “The little dog with the black around his eye. Take him out that I may see him!”

The shopman took me out and gave me to the man, and the man held me up close to his face and looked into my eyes and smiled at me, and I grinned at him. I liked him, though he had a queer look.

“Yes, he is the one,” said the stranger. “We will take him. Have you a basket in which to carry him?”

The shopman had. It was a queer basket. I had never seen one like it before. It was just big enough to hold me, and it had a cover, and a window at one end so I could look out.

The stranger put me in it and fastened the lid.

He let the basket stand on the floor while he paid the shopman, and then he picked it up and started off. I should have liked to say good-bye to Fido, but I had no chance. I looked out of the window and I could see him up in the cage looking after me, but he couldn’t see me very well.

It was a long time before we ever saw each other again, and when we did it was in the queerest way. But that comes later in my story.

VI

So now I belonged to Mr. Bonelli, and had still another name given me. I was now called Master Grineo. It seemed funny to have belonged to so many people, and to have had so many names. Every time there was a new master there was a new name.

First I had belonged to Mr. O’Grady and then I had been called Smarty. Next I had belonged to Tommy and then I was called Muffins. And now it was Mr. Bonelli and I was Master Grineo.

The first thing my new master taught me was to answer to that name, and to pay attention the moment he said “_Master Grineo_.”

Mr. Bonelli had a lot of dogs beside me. Some of them were big, and some were little. I was afraid of them at first, there were so many of them, but they were very friendly dogs,--not proud and snarly like Prince Coco and Fifine.

They were all trained dogs, and could do a great many wonderful tricks. Mr. Bonelli had trained them. After they were trained he took them to a big place called a theatre, and crowds and crowds of people came to see them do their tricks. Showing off his dogs was Mr. Bonelli’s business, just as going to the factory was Mr. O’Grady’s business.

Soon after I came to live with Mr. Bonelli he began to teach me tricks. He began with easy tricks, almost as easy as the ones Mr. O’Grady had taught me, but he went on to harder and harder ones. Some of them were very hard indeed, and some were funny. I never knew there were so many tricks a dog could learn. And the other dogs knew just as many as I did. At least some of them didn’t know as many, but some of them knew more. I had thought I was smart when I learned those three little tricks Mr. O’Grady had taught me, but I knew better now. I heard Mr. Bonelli say he had never had a dog that learned as quickly as I did.

Mr. and Mrs. Bonelli lived in a big house, but they didn’t live in all of it. They lived downstairs and some other people lived upstairs. There was a man upstairs who played a horn. When he played it I felt so sad it made me howl, but Mr. Bonelli always spoke sharply to me when I did that, so after a while I learned I mustn’t.

Back of the house was a yard, and every day we dogs were turned out there to run about awhile and get the fresh air. Trained dogs act just like any other dogs. They sniff about and play together, only never fight. Mr. Bonelli wouldn’t allow any fighting.

The dog I liked best was a little black dog named Sambo. He was just about my size, and we played together a great deal. We were great friends.

Besides Sambo there was a poodle named Punch, and a terrier named Frisco; then there were Ruby--he was a setter--and Snaps, and Diamond, and Sancho and Frolic. I don’t know what kinds of dogs they were. There was a long-legged greyhound, too, who could jump further than any dog I ever saw. His name was Graceful.

There had been another dog, but he had died, and that is the reason Mr. Bonelli had come to the shop and had bought me.

When Mr. Bonelli first began to teach me my tricks he took me off in a quiet room by myself; but when I had once learned them, I had to do them before all the other dogs with Mrs. Bonelli making loud music on a piano.

At first it was harder to do it there before the others, and I made mistakes; but I soon became used to it, and then it wasn’t any harder to pay attention with all the others there than when I was in a room alone with Mr. Bonelli.

VII

Every day Mr. Bonelli took all of us down into a big cellar under the house.

There was a raised part at one end that he called a stage, and we had to get up on the stage and go through our tricks every day. If any dog made a mistake he had to go through his tricks all over again.

We all had sort of fancy things to wear when we were on the stage.

The other dogs wore cloth collars that came down over their breasts and a kind of saddle strapped around them. The collars and saddles were red, and had trimming around the edges.

I was dressed differently, because I was the clown dog. I wore a red cap that was cut so that it came round and fastened under my chin, and a big white thing round my neck that they called a ruff. I wore a little coat with my front legs put through the sleeves of it, and little striped trousers with my tail coming through at the back.

At first, when they dressed me that way, I felt so foolish I wanted to get down under a chair or sofa and hide, but afterwards I became used to it, and then I felt quite proud, and liked to be dressed in them.

Mr. Bonelli made me the clown dog because I could grin. The first thing he taught me was to grin whenever he made a certain sign with a little whip he always carried.

When he was teaching me he used to give me a bit of cake or sugar every time I grinned, so I was always glad when he made the sign for me to do it. But afterwards he stopped giving me the cake and sugar, but I had to grin just the same.

As soon as we were on the stage we had to run over to a row of chairs and jump up on them. There was a chair for each dog, and each dog had his own particular chair. We were never allowed to sit on any but our own chairs.

All the dogs except me sat with their backs against the backs of the chairs and their tails hanging down, but when I got up in my chair I turned with my head to the back of it and my tail toward the front. That was what I had been taught to do.

Mr. Bonelli would call to me and tell me to turn around, but I wouldn’t stir. He would call to me louder and louder, as if he was getting angry, but I wouldn’t pay any attention. At last he would come over and lift me up and set me down the right way, but as soon as he went away I would turn around again. We would do this several times, and at last he would say, “All right, Master Grineo, suit yourself then,” and would walk away and leave me.

Then I would turn round and sit the right way and grin at him, and he would seem very much surprised when he looked round and saw me sitting that way.

Later, when we acted in a theatre with people looking on, I found this trick always made the people laugh.

(Mr. Bonelli didn’t call it a trick, though; he called it an “act.”)

Another “act” we did was the Jumping Act.

A long board would be put on the stage with one end resting on something high so that it stuck up in the air. A mattress was always laid on the stage down below the high end. The dogs would run up the board and jump off on the mattress. The mattress was put there so they wouldn’t hurt their legs when they came down.

All the dogs would jump except me, but I would just sit and look on.