WHAT BRAVO TOLD RORY.
"Tell us a story, Kate," said Emma.
"Yes, do," chimed in Bertha.
"Will you tell us a story?" said Herbert.
Thus entreated by these dear, good children, I could not refuse. So while their three heads, close together, with their bright faces beaming upon me and upon each other, formed a pretty picture, I told them this story about two shepherd-dogs, Bravo and Rory:—
"When farmer John and his bride moved into their little white house, a mile from the old homestead, they took with them the young dog, Bravo, and left Rory to guard the old house. Bravo was large and wide awake, but only five months old. He seemed very happy in his new home. His master taught him many curious things; and for a week or more he showed no signs of home-sickness.
"But when old Toss, from the tannery near by, made an attack upon him, although Bravo's fleetness saved him from harm, he began to wish he had never left his puppy-hood's home to live with farmer John. Down he sat at the door of his kennel, with a lonely and forsaken look, trying to smooth down the hair of his sleek coat that old Toss had ruffled.
"The tanner's dog repeated his attack for two or three days, and, more than that, drove poor Bravo from his nice warm quarters at night, compelling him to lie out in the cold. Then Bravo said to himself, 'Something must be done. I dare not fight Toss; for he has long teeth, and is a savage dog,—more than a match for me. I think my best plan is to go and tell Rory.' And away he sped, just at sunrise, and came back in time for breakfast, with a cheerful look in his face.
"Now, Rory was steady and brave and wise. He had no love for running round nights: so it surprised his master, when, just as the sun went down that day, Rory started down the road, and up the lane to farmer John's. On he went, with a grave look, without stopping to greet any old friend, even by a wag of his tail. Bravo met him, and whisked around him; and, after a short consultation, the two dogs crawled into the kennel, Rory staying nearest to the door.
"The moon shone clear and bright, and all was still until about midnight, when farmer John's wife was suddenly awakened by a sound of growling, snarling, and yelping. 'Wake up, John, quick, quick! Get up!' she shouted. The farmer leaped from his bed, and, half-dressed, ran to the door, thinking that the dogs were killing sheep; but instead of sheep, Rory and Bravo had Toss at their mercy, and were giving him a fearful punishment."
"Good, good!" shouted Herbert. "That served him just right."
But little Bertha turned a wondering look upon Herbert; she could not help feeling pity even for Toss.
"Let us hear the rest of the story," said Emma.
So I went on,—
"The sharp voice of the farmer made Rory and Bravo release their victim; and Toss, in a crestfallen way, started for his home; but, before he could get over the fence, Rory gave him a final clutch that sent him off yelping. He never came back; and when he met Bravo afterwards, he was careful not to trouble him.
"In a short time Bravo grew to be so strong and brave, that he could fight his own battles without the aid of his friend Rory."
The three children, who had listened very attentively to the story, now talked it over; and they came to the conclusion that Toss received a good lesson, and was probably a better dog after it. "For," said Herbert, "a dog who abuses a smaller dog is almost as mean as a big boy who tyrannizes over a little boy."
M. Kate Brawley.
