III.
| empty | whining | shoulder | weary |
| stolen | crooked | cruelly | shelter |
| howled | rattling | pattering | limping |
| second | wounded | terrible | banging |
The Apple-Tree Mother looked very grave, but she only said, "Shall we have another picture?"
Dick was afraid to say "No." He lay quite still, looking at the apple tree. The rain was beginning to beat against the leaves. Then he saw a weary little dog come limping to the tree, whining, and licking one of his paws.
He was not a handsome dog. His legs were crooked and one ear was torn. The branches of the tree bent above him. And when the poor dog looked up at their shelter, one could see how big and soft and sad were his eyes.
With a splashing noise two boys came wading across the brook. Each boy had a fishing pole over his shoulder, and in his hand was a small tin pail in which he had carried bait.
As they came toward the tree one of them pointed to the poor little dog. It was the same boy that had stolen the oriole's eggs.
"Now for some fun!" he said. Then both the boys sat down on the ground, and to work they went with a fishing line and one of the empty pails.
They did not see how the apple tree shook its head at them. They did not hear how each raindrop called, "No! no! no!" as it fell pattering on the leaves.
The poor little dog lay resting under the tree, safe from the storm. All at once he was caught and held by rough hands. He howled with fright and pain, but he could not get away. A strong cord was bound around his thin little body, and his wounded foot was sadly hurt.
At last the boys let him go, and with a wild bound he jumped through the fence and ran along the road.
But oh, what terrible thing is rattling and banging around him? At every leap he is cruelly struck on his crooked little legs.
Dick had turned his head the other way. His cheeks burned and his heart was sad. Then he opened his eyes and saw his mother standing beside him with a second cup of bitter tea in her hand.
"Such a nice sleep as you have had," she said. "I really think you are better. Now sit up and drink this like a man."
Never a word said Dick. He sat up and drank the bitter tea, while he thought of many things. Had he seen himself in the pictures which the Apple-Tree Mother had brought to his bedside?
—Adapted from "True Fairy Stories."