WHAT HAPPENED TO BETTY'S DOG.
My cousin Betty had a shepherd dog whose name was Scott. He was a beauty. He followed Betty in all her walks and rides.
He would chase her about until she ran into the tallest tree in the yard; and there she would stay until Scott went home.
One day Scott was out in the street having a frolic with two other dogs. He was run over by a wagon, and one of his legs was broken. Betty and her brother and Bridget all cried when he went limping into the house.
Bridget hid her face in her apron and said, "Sure, the poor beast will be a cripple for life."
Betty soon wiped away her tears, and said she was going after the doctor. The doctor came home with Betty. After looking at the broken bone he said he could set it He thought in a few weeks his leg would be all right again.
Scott whined and looked very pitiful while the doctor was at work on the leg; but it was very soon bound up, and he was put on the lounge, with his head on a pillow. Betty made a johnny-cake and some porridge for him every day.
Sometimes Betty thought he was going to have a fever. But her brother told her as long as his nose was cold there was no danger of a fever.
Betty took such good care of Scott that he was able to walk out with her very soon. It was some time before he could have much fun frolicking with dogs or chasing cats.