agree about it, and said they must test it by experiment by and by; and
next they discussed plants, and that interested me, because in the summer
Sadie and I had planted seeds–I helped her dig the holes, you know–and
after days and days a little shrub or a flower came up there, and it was
a wonder how that could happen; but it did, and I wished I could talk–I
would have told those people about it and shown then how much I knew, and
been all alive with the subject; but I didn’t care for the optics; it was
dull, and when the came back to it again it bored me, and I went to
sleep.
Pretty soon it was spring, and sunny and pleasant and lovely, and the
sweet mother and the children patted me and the puppy good-by, and went
away on a journey and a visit to their kin, and the master wasn’t any
company for us, but we played together and had good times, and the
servants were kind and friendly, so we got along quite happily and
counted the days and waited for the family.
And one day those men came again, and said, now for the test, and they
took the puppy to the laboratory, and I limped three-leggedly along, too,
feeling proud, for any attention shown to the puppy was a pleasure to me,
of course. They discussed and experimented, and then suddenly the puppy
shrieked, and they set him on the floor, and he went staggering around,
with his head all bloody, and the master clapped his hands and shouted:
“There, I’ve won–confess it! He’s a blind as a bat!”
And they all said:
“It’s so–you’ve proved your theory, and suffering humanity owes you a
great debt from henceforth,” and they crowded around him, and wrung his
hand cordially and thankfully, and praised him.
But I hardly saw or heard these things, for I ran at once to my little
darling, and snuggled close to it where it lay, and licked the blood, and
it put its head against mine, whimpering softly, and I knew in my heart
it was a comfort to it in its pain and trouble to feel its mother’s
touch, though it could not see me. Then it dropped down, presently, and
its little velvet nose rested upon the floor, and it was still, and did
not move any more.
Soon the master stopped discussing a moment, and rang in the footman, and
said, “Bury it in the far corner of the garden,” and then went on with
the discussion, and I trotted after the footman, very happy and grateful,
for I knew the puppy was out of its pain now, because it was asleep. We
went far down the garden to the farthest end, where the children and the
nurse and the puppy and I used to play in the summer in the shade of a
great elm, and there the footman dug a hole, and I saw he was going to
plant the puppy, and I was glad, because it would grow and come up a fine
handsome dog, like Robin Adair, and be a beautiful surprise for the
family when they came home; so I tried to help him dig, but my lame leg
was no good, being stiff, you know, and you have to have two, or it is no
use. When the footman had finished and covered little Robin up, he
patted my head, and there were tears in his eyes, and he said: “Poor
little doggie, you saved HIS child!”
I have watched two whole weeks, and he doesn’t come up! This last week a
fright has been stealing upon me. I think there is something terrible
about this. I do not know what it is, but the fear makes me sick, and I
cannot eat, though the servants bring me the best of food; and they pet
me so, and even come in the night, and cry, and say, “Poor doggie–do
give it up and come home; don’t break our hearts!” and all this terrifies
me the more, and makes me sure something has happened. And I am so weak;