Part 3

Then the mattress would be moved further off, and a chair would be put between it and the board. The dogs would run up the board and jump off the end and out over the chair and light on the mattress as before. Then the mattress would be moved further and two chairs put there. The little dogs would stop jumping then. But most of the larger dogs kept on.

Then two chairs and a table would be put there for them to jump over, and then two chairs and two tables, and so on. After a while the jumps would be so long that only Graceful and Punch could do them. They were both fine jumpers, but Graceful was the best.

Now I would get down from my chair and trot over to Mr. Bonelli and stand up on my hind legs in front of him and bark: “Bow-wow-wow-wow!”

“What, Grineo!” he would say. “You want to try it, too?”

“Bow-wow!”

“But that’s too long a jump for you.”

“Bow-wow-wow!”

“You think you can do it?”

“Bow-wow.”

“Very well! Then go ahead, but I’m afraid you can’t do it, and you may hurt yourself, too.”

Then I would go back to the furthest edge of the stage, and run as hard as I could across the stage and up the board, and just as I got to the edge I would stop short and stand there with all my feet together and not jump at all. Then I would look round at Mr. Bonelli and grin.

“There!” he would say. “I knew you couldn’t do it. Come down now and let Graceful jump.” But I wouldn’t come down.

“Come, come!” he would cry impatiently. “You’re keeping everybody waiting. Come down, I say.”

Still I wouldn’t move, and then Graceful would run up the board and jump right over me and far out over the chairs and tables, and land on the mattress so lightly you scarcely knew when he touched it. Even Punch was not able to make that last long jump, only Graceful. After that last jump I would come down from the board and go back to my chair again.

Then we would play ball. Mr. Bonelli would toss a big bright ball to one after another of the dogs, and each dog would jump up in the air and catch it and bring it back to him.

After they had played for a while I would jump down from my chair and run over in front of him, and stand up on my hind legs and wave my paws.

“So!” he would cry. “You want to play, too, do you?”

“Bow-wow-wow!” I would bark.

“Very well,” he would say; “then catch.”

He would throw the ball to me, and I would catch it as the others had done, but instead of bringing it back to him I would run away with it, and he would chase me all around the stage and pretend to get very angry.

At last he would cry, “Police! Police!”

Then Frolic, who had jumped down from his chair and had run out a little while before, would come in walking on his hind legs and dressed like a policeman. A black stick was strapped to his paw, and he would come hopping over toward me and wave the stick as if he meant to hit me, and I would pretend to be frightened and would drop the ball and run and hide under a chair.

Frolic would go out again, and after he had gone I would come out from under the chair and sit down in front of Mr. Bonelli, and beg again and wave my paws up and down.

Mr. Bonelli would say, “So you want to play again. Sure you won’t run away with the ball this time?”

I would wave my paws harder.

“Very well, we’ll try once more, but remember! If you play any more of your tricks I’ll call the policeman again, and then he’ll take you away and shut you in the lock-up.”

And now would come the most difficult trick I ever had to learn. It was one that none of the other dogs could do. I don’t know whether any other dog ever did it or not. When Mr. Bonelli threw the ball to me this time, I would catch it and throw it back to him. This I would do by jerking my head forward and letting go of the ball at the same time. We would throw it backward and forward three or four times, and then we would stop, for it was hard for me to do this, and after doing it three or four times I was tired.

After that I would rest awhile, and some of the other dogs would do their tricks. A long red carpet would be unrolled across the stage, and Frisco, and Snaps, and Diamond and Sancho would turn somersaults across it from one side of the stage to the other.

After they had done this for a while they would stop and go back to their chairs, and three little round barrels painted with stripes of red, white and blue would be brought in.

This was an act for Sambo and Frolic and me. We would get on top of the barrels and roll them along with our feet from one end of the carpet to the other, always keeping on top of them and never falling off. That was a hard thing to do.

Then Graceful and Ruby would come in dressed like people. Graceful was the lady, with a skirt, and a hat with a feather in it, and Ruby was the gentleman, in a coat and trousers. Graceful’s dress was so long at the back that it trailed on the floor. The music played and they stood up on their hind legs and danced together, and after I had watched them for a while I would jump down and hop after them on my hind legs, and every now and then I would hop on Graceful’s train so he couldn’t dance and at last he would have to stop and run off the stage on all fours.

These are some of the acts we did, but there were a great many more of them.

The last of all was the “Fire Act.” A little house would be brought on the stage, and Mr. Bonelli would pretend to set fire to it. It was fixed so it wouldn’t really burn, but the fire was inside and came out of the windows, so it looked as though it were burning.

Then Graceful and Ruby would come galloping in harnessed to a little fire engine, with Sancho sitting up in front with the reins in his paws. Diamond stood on the back of the fire engine and kept pushing a gong with his paw so it went “Jang! jang! jang! jang! jang!”

There was a hose on the engine, and Judy had to catch it in her teeth and hold it so that when the water was turned on it would squirt on the house and seem to put the fire out.

I was the little dog that ran about barking when the house was burning, and then pushed the other little dog off the engine and rang the bell myself. We none of us liked this act because of the fire. We were afraid of the fire. Still we had to do as we were told, and we had to practise this act over and over and over again because it was a hard one.

There were a great many other tricks besides these, as I said, but these are enough to show you the sort of things we did.

Every day we practised these things over and over until every one of us knew exactly what he was to do and when he was to do it.

Then one morning we didn’t practise. We played out in the yard and around the house, and we didn’t have any lessons.

In the afternoon two men came to the house, and Mr. Bonelli called to us and whistled us into the room where he and the men were.

“Come, my children!” said he. (He often called us his children.) “This afternoon we go to the theatre to practise, and we will see whether you can be as perfect there as here. Then tonight we will act in the show, and everybody will look and laugh and wonder at you.”

I didn’t know what he meant, but he looked so kind and smiling I thought he must mean play. I guess the other dogs did, too, because we all began to bark and jump about him.

I did like Mr. Bonelli, but I didn’t love him the way I loved Tommy. I never could love anyone else the way I had loved Tommy.

Mrs. Bonelli came up from downstairs carrying in her arms the things we wore, and she and Mr. Bonelli dressed us. After that Mr. Bonelli put collars on our necks and fastened straps to them, and he and the men took hold of the straps and led us out of the house and into the wide, sunny street. How big and bright it seemed! I hadn’t been in the street for a long time.

We trotted along, the men leading some of us and Mr. Bonelli leading some, and everybody turned to stare at us and smiled, and a crowd of children followed after us, talking and calling. Some of them wanted to pat us, but Mr. Bonelli wouldn’t let them.

After a while we came to the theatre. I had never been in a theatre before, and I didn’t know what the name meant at first, but I learned afterward. It is a great big place where crowds of people come to see dogs act. There is always a stage in a theatre, and bright lights. There are queer places back of the stage, and men hurry about and drag things round.

I was scared when I first saw it all and I stayed close to Mr. Bonelli’s legs and kept looking up at him, but the other dogs were used to it, they had been there before so many times. They sniffed about, and some of the men stopped and patted them.

Mr. Bonelli led us out on the stage, and then some men came with our chairs and set them in a row.

“Now, my children!” said Mr. Bonelli.

He pointed to the chairs and flicked his little whip, and we ran and got up in our places, only I forgot and sat down with my head turned toward him and my tail toward the back of the chair just the way the other dogs were sitting.

Mr. Bonelli wasn’t pleased with that. He spoke to me quite sharply, and then I remembered and turned round the other way,--the way he had taught me to sit.

The lights shone out along the edge of the stage and there was music somewhere in front of us, but Mr. Bonelli spoke to us just the way he always did. He came and turned me round in my chair, and when I turned back again he said, “All right, Master Grineo; suit yourself!” just as he did when we were at home, and so presently I didn’t feel strange any more.

We went through all our tricks as we did at home, and when we came to the end Mr. Bonelli went about among us, patting us and praising us. “Good! Good dogs! Well done!” he said.

We all felt so pleased we wagged our tails, and some of us jumped about and barked. Then we went home and had our suppers and lay down and rested for a while.

But that wasn’t all. Almost always when we had gone through our tricks once we had finished for the day; but that evening the men came to the house again, and Mr. Bonelli put collars and straps on us,--but he didn’t dress us in our fancy things this time. Mrs. Bonelli put the things in a big case and fastened it, and then we all set out, Mrs. Bonelli too.

We went the same way we had gone in the morning, and after we came to the theatre Mrs. Bonelli took us to a room downstairs, dressed us, and then upstairs again where the stage was.

We didn’t go on the stage right away, though. A man and woman were out on it. They were walking up and down and singing and talking. After a while they came off and went on again and came off, and then a big curtain came down in front so the stage was shut in like a room.

“Now,” said Mr. Bonelli, “get those chairs on.”

Some men ran about and carried our chairs out on the stage. One of them almost fell over me.

Then the big curtain that had come down in front of the stage went up again, and Mr. Bonelli led us out on the stage.

He motioned to us to get up in our chairs and we did, and then I heard him speaking and a big noise as though a lot of people were clapping their hands. It made me feel so queer inside I wanted to turn round and bark and bark.

Then we began acting just as we did at home, and every now and then there would be the same sound of clapping hands. There were crowds and crowds of people out in front of the stage. Sometimes when I did my tricks they laughed and clapped, and then I wagged my tail and grinned. I wanted to do them over again but Mr. Bonelli wouldn’t let me.

Sometimes there was music. It was bigger than when Mrs. Bonelli played the piano. When we rolled the barrels and when we turned somersaults there was music. And when the dogs jumped off the board the big drum went “Bumb!” And there was music when Graceful and Ruby danced.

After a while it was all over, and we had to go off the stage. I didn’t want to go off one bit, but we had to. When the music began again I barked and ran out on the stage again, but a man ran after me and caught hold of me and pulled me back, and everybody laughed.

Then the collars were fastened around our necks, and the men came and took hold of the straps and we went home again.

That was our first night of acting. But there were many more after that. We acted for a long time at that same theatre. Night after night we acted there, and sometimes in the afternoons, too. I got so used to it that I didn’t think any more about it.

VIII

One day Mr. Bonelli and Mrs. Bonelli took us out along the street to a house where we had never been before. We went upstairs to a big light room with a window at the top, and there was a man there with a big box that stood up high on legs.

Mr. Bonelli got up on a little stage and called us dogs up, and made us sit down around him.

The man stood in front of us and pulled a cloth over the box and over his head. He looked so strange that I began to bark,--not a big bark, but a growling bark with my mouth shut; but Mr. Bonelli told me to keep still.

Something in the box went “click,” and the man took his head out from under the cloth and said, “All right; I’ll take another in a minute.”

Mr. Bonelli wouldn’t let us get down from the stage, and presently the man did the same thing all over again.

Then Mr. Bonelli dressed us in our acting things, and we had to get up on the stage and do different tricks. I had to stand up on a high stool and grin, and I had to stand on my hind legs and grin.

The man put his head under the cloth again, and the box went “click.” He did this over and over. Then at last he said, “There! That’s all. We ought to get some very good photographs out of those.” I don’t know what he meant.

After that Mrs. Bonelli took off our clothes and we all went home again.

We had been going to the theatre every day for a long time now, and I thought we would always keep on going just the same way, and then one time Mr. and Mrs. Bonelli got out their trunks and packed them. I wondered whether they were going away to leave us the way Tommy and his father and mother had.

They did go away; it seems that’s what trunks mean; but they took us with them. We went down to a big place called a station where there were engines that puffed and blew. A big train came in and there was a great noise, and Mr. and Mrs. Bonelli led us up some steps and into a sort of long room they called a car. Presently it began to shake and jolt, and everything outside began sliding past the windows. It was very curious.

When we got out--that was after a long, long time--we were in a strange place where I never had been before. There were streets and houses, but they were all strange, and they smelled strange.

We went to a big house Mr. Bonelli called a hotel, and the trunks came after we did, and everything was taken out of them again.

We stayed there at that hotel for a long time, and almost right away we began going to a theatre to act. It wasn’t the same theatre as the one where we had been before, but it was like it and people came to watch us just as they had at the first theatre.

After that we often rode on the cars. We went to a great many different places, and always there was a theatre, and always we went through just the same tricks in just the same way, and there were lights and music, and the people clapped their hands and laughed.

All the while I remembered Tommy, but I didn’t remember him as often as I used to. I was too busy, and then I was tired all the time, too.

IX

After a while we came back home again. We didn’t begin acting right away, though. We practised one or two new tricks. I learned to turn somersaults and to balance a ball on my nose.

Then one night we went to the theatre again. We went quite early that night, and we went by a different way from the way we had gone before. I don’t know why that was. We used to go through a narrow dark street with ash barrels standing in it, and in through the back door of the theatre; but this time we went along a broad bright street where there were crowds of people, and Mr. Bonelli led us in the big front way.

There were big boards standing in the hall of the theatre, with pictures on them,--and one was a picture of _me_! Me, in my clown clothes up on a high stool and grinning. The other dogs were sniffing about and didn’t see it, and I wouldn’t have seen it only Mr. Bonelli stooped and picked me up in his arms. “Now look! Look at yourself, my little clown dog,” said he. “Is it not a good likeness?” And he took hold of my head and turned it toward the picture.

I knew it was me because of the clown clothes, and the spots of black.

I began to bark, and Mr. Bonelli turned to one of the men and said, “He knows it,--he knows it, my little Master Grineo. Never before was such a dog as he,” and then he dropped me gently and we went on into the theatre.

X

I had learned more about theatres now than I had known at first, and I had learned the names of a great many things about it.

The bright lights in front of the stage were called footlights. Then at each side of the stage were places called “boxes,” and they had chairs in them where people could sit, if they wanted to be very near the stage. When they sat in the boxes they were so near it was almost as though they were on the stage with us. Often there were a lot of children there, and I liked that because they laughed so loud and clapped their hands so hard when we did our tricks. But I didn’t pay so very much attention to anyone but Mr. Bonelli when I was on the stage. None of us did. We had to watch him and his little whip all the time if we were to do the right things.

This evening we had come with just our collars on, and we ran downstairs to the room where Mrs. Bonelli was and she dressed us, and we stayed down there with her until it was time for our act. Then Mr. Bonelli called us. We all ran upstairs together and out on the stage, wagging our tails. It was all just the way it had always been before, but somehow I felt different, and all excited. I kept sniffing and sniffing, and I felt as if Tommy was somewhere near.

We jumped up on our chairs, and Mr. Bonelli spoke to the people and they clapped, and then he came over and turned me round, and I kept turning back just the way I always did, until he said, “All right, Master Grineo, suit yourself then!”

At that I turned and faced the people, just as I always did, and grinned, and right then I heard Tommy’s voice. He was there in the box beside the stage, and he called out, and his voice was shrill,--“It is! It is, mamma! It’s Muffins!”

When I heard that I forgot everything. I jumped down and ran over to the box where Tommy was sitting, and jumped up against the side of it and barked and whined and tried to get to him; and he leaned down over the side of the box to get at me and reached down his hand to pat me, and I caught his hand in my mouth, I was so glad to see him.

Then the next thing Mr. Bonelli called to me sharp and quick, and came over toward me and made his whip whistle through the air.

I was scared and ran back with my tail between my legs and jumped up on the chair again.

The people in front began to talk and then the music struck up, and Mr. Bonelli went over and talked to Tommy. I didn’t hear what he said, but presently he turned to the people and held up his hand for the music to stop, and said, “My little clown dog found an old friend he had not seen for a long time. He forgot himself, but now he prays for you to forgive him, and he is ready to act again,” and all the people clapped.

So we went on. Graceful jumped, and we played ball and turned somersaults, and we rolled the barrels and did all the rest of the things, but I didn’t do very well, and once I fell off the barrel, and once I missed the ball. Mr. Bonelli kept smiling, but he came close to me and spoke to me in a low voice, but very sharp, and touched me with his whip, and then I did better.

At last It was all over. Mr. Bonelli bowed and the people clapped, and he bowed and bowed, and then we ran off the stage, and there, waiting for us, were Tommy and his father.

The father talked to Mr. Bonelli, and Tommy was down beside me patting me, and he kept saying, “_Can’t_ I have him back, father? _Can’t_ I?” until his father told him to be quiet.

He talked to Mr. Bonelli for a long time, Tommy’s father did; then he called Tommy to come, and I heard him say to Mr. Bonelli, “Then I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Tommy didn’t want to go, but he had to. He kept looking back at me, and when I saw he was going I wanted to follow him, but Mr. Bonelli wouldn’t let me. He put on my collar and strap, and I had to go home with him and Mrs. Bonelli and the other dogs.

But that wasn’t the end of it. The next day Tommy and his father came to Mr. Bonelli’s house. I was sitting on the sill of the front window looking out, and I saw them coming.

I jumped down and ran out into the hall to meet them.

When they came in I whined and barked and wagged my tail and jumped up on Tommy, and he was just as glad to see me as I was to see him.

We went into a room and Tommy and his father and Mr. Bonelli sat down and talked. I wanted to get up in the chair with Tommy, but Mr. Bonelli wouldn’t let me. He took me up on his knees, and all the while he was talking he kept smoothing me and gently pulling my ears.

At last Tommy and his father stood up, and Mr. Bonelli, too, and I scrambled down and ran over to Tommy, and Tommy caught his father by the arm and cried, “Can’t I take him now? Please!”

But his father shook his head. “You’ve heard what Mr. Bonelli says; he’ll have to train a dog to take his place before he can let him go.”

Then he and Mr. Bonelli shook hands, and Tommy said good-bye, and Tommy and his father went out and shut the door after them.

I wanted to go with them, but Mr. Bonelli held me back. When he let me go I ran to the door and scratched and whined, but I couldn’t get it open, and at last I sat down and howled, but all my howling did not bring them back.

It was not long after this when Mr. Bonelli brought home another dog to the house. He was a little brown dog just about my size. At first I thought he was a strange dog, but when I went up and sniffed at him he smelled like a friend. Then he began to wag his tail, and frisk in front of me, and all of a sudden I knew who he was. He was little Fido from the dog shop.

I was so glad to see him I whined, and he seemed just as glad to see me.

“Ah, my Grineo, so you remember your little friend from the shop,” said Mr. Bonelli. “I had forgotten that you were there together.”

I was very happy that Fido had come there to live and to learn to be a trained dog. I knew he would like it.

Right away Mr. Bonelli began to teach Fido the same tricks that I had been doing. He worked and worked with him. He taught him everything I knew except to grin and to throw the ball. Fido couldn’t learn to do either of those things. He and I worked together, and he used to watch everything I did, and try to do it the same way. I don’t know just how long it took him to learn, but not so very long. He was a smart little dog, but not as smart as me. I heard Mr. Bonelli say to Mrs. Bonelli, “Ah, yes; he is quick, but not quick as is my little clown dog. There is but one Grineo, and I was foolish when I promised to sell him.”

And Mrs. Bonelli said, “But it is much money.”

Then one day, after Fido had learned all the tricks he seemed able to learn, an automobile came to the door, and in it was William sitting in front, and Tommy sat up beside him.

Tommy came in and I ran to meet him. At first he just spoke to me and patted me, but I jumped up at him and barked and yelped until he took me up in his arms, and then I hardly knew what to do, I was so glad.