CHARLEY SWALLOWS THE ROOSTER.
hey went out into the road together, Flora clinging closely to the dog's shaggy coat and talking pleasantly as they trotted along, side by side.
"Do you live somewhere? I do. When I get there. Don't know the way. You do, nice doggy. I like you. Are you all wet? I am. And cold? I am too. Musn't cry if you are wet. I don't, and good dogs don't. Get home pretty soon."
When she saw houses and the lights shining, she was rejoiced, for now she would have supper, dry clothes and a warm bed. She fell on her new friend's neck and embraced him again; but for him, she would not have found the road. She might have wandered about all night in the cold and rain. The dog started off with a purpose. There was no doubt in his mind as to the best course. Finding a brisk trot unsuited to Flora's weak condition, he toned down and trudged along steadily at a moderate pace till he reached a shabby dwelling, with ricketty steps in front, that creaked as he went up, and an old door that shook when he pressed his nose against it. There was one small window through which the light of the fire was dancing, and it looked very pleasant to Flora. The dog gave a short, quick bark, and a woman appeared at the window; but no one opened the door. Flora saw the woman very plainly, but she could not see Flora. The dog waited patiently a moment, and then barked again, at the same time scratching upon the door with his big paw. It opened this time, and a sharp voice said: "Come in."
Doggy simply looked in and wagged his tail.
"Well, then, stay out."
The door was about to close when another voice said, "Old woman, the brute is a-telling of us something. Can't you sense nothing?" and Flora clambered up the steps as well as she could with her wet clothes hanging about her, and went in with her new friend, who introduced her as a young lady in distress he had taken the liberty to bring home.
"Well, I never!" exclaimed the woman Flora had seen at the window. "Did you rain down?"
"I did," said Flora.