THE HUNGRY DOGS.
“We can’t stand it much longer.”
“That is so. We are pretty thin now.”
“I should say so. Look at my sides. You can see my ribs so plainly anybody would suppose I had buried all my old bones there, instead of in the ground.”
“I don’t suppose master means to starve us.”
“Probably not. But that thought does not fill the hole in my stomach. We’ve not had a square meal for three days.”
As Zip and Jerry were talking, the master came in to prepare his meal. He lived alone with his two dogs. He was a good master, but was inclined to be stingy, and was growing worse. Zip and Jerry lay close together to sympathize.
They watched the master put the bread and meat on the table. They saw him begin to eat. They could hardly stand it, they had such queer feelings about their ribs.
The master left the room a minute. Zip and Jerry looked into each other’s eyes, as much as to say, “We’ll have to do it.” They arose, walked to the table, and tried to help themselves. They did not get many mouthfuls, for the tablecloth slipped, and everything else came down with a crash and a crack. The master hurried back, and in great rage stamped his feet and clinched his fists.