We wish a bright Christmas and jolly New Year.
“UNEARTHED.”
The master’s three dogs were privileged to come into the house. One day when they entered they knew at once there was something new in the house, though nobody said so, and nothing was seen. Dogs are very wise about some things.
These dogs were sure they were right, and they meant to prove it by finding this new thing. They smelled of the chairs and the floor, and trotted about through the house. In less time than could you or I, they found the door that led to the room that contained the box that held the new thing they were in search of. They pushed open the door; they walked in; they looked at the box; they wagged their tails. By their manner, one knew they were thinking, “I told you so! Our noses are better than some people’s brains.”
The box was large; the cover was off. Nothing could be seen except a lot of paper, but they knew there was something there besides paper. They smelled of the paper, they smelled of the box. The odor excited their nerves. They could stand it no longer. They tore off the paper and threw it about.
One grew so excited he jumped in the box. His legs went round something, he couldn’t tell what. It seemed like a creature that he must drag out. He pulled with all his might, when up from the box there rose, like a ghost, the head of a fox. His eyes were wide open and so was his mouth, his ears stood straight and his tongue hung out. Such barking and jumping! Trip couldn’t let go, for then the fox at once dropped below.
And this was their plight when the master walked in. All were surprised. The master looked queer. Scold them he wouldn’t; in fact he felt proud. His dogs, without bidding, had “unearthed” the fox.
THE LITTLE TEACHER.
“Now, Pussy-diddle, you have eaten your dinner and it’s time you were taught how to spell. And Doggie-dibble, you have taken your recess, it is time you were taught how to read. Come, Pussy-diddle, spell ‘purr.’”