“He’s an ugly monster, that he is,” said the boy, hurling another stone at Rover, as he moved toward his mistress, and began to rub his nose against her hands.
“Down, Rover!” said Jessie, patting the dog’s head, and thus quieting his temper, which was somewhat ruffled by the last stone, which Charlie had sent right against his ribs.
“I will stone him, if I want to,” growled Charlie, pouting his lips, puffing out his cheeks, and stamping his foot, as Guy laid his hand on his right arm.
“No, no, Charlie, you must not stone old Rover. It is not kind to hurt a poor, harmless dog, nor is it quite safe, either, for, you see, Rover has big teeth, and he may bite you if you hurt him,” said Guy, still holding the angry boy.
“I don’t care! He hurt my sister. I’ll kick you if you don’t let me stone him as much as I like. Let me go, you ugly fellow!” and with these words, Charlie kicked and struggled with such violence, that Guy could scarcely hold him.
Meanwhile, Jessie, having sent old Rover to his kennel, was trying to comfort Emily. The whole difficulty had grown out of her attempt to mount the dog’s back, in defiance of Guy’s advice. He told her that Rover did not like to do service as a pony, and that he would certainly throw her off if she tried to ride him. But, urged on by Charlie, she had seated herself on the dog, and had been thrown down just as Jessie had been, a few days before. She was not much hurt, a slight bruise on the back of her head being the only damage she had sustained. Jessie would have laughed over such a trifle. But Emily was not like Jessie. She had been pleasant thus far, since her coming to Glen Morris. But now, her good-nature being played out, she began to show the selfish and ugly side of her character.
“Never mind that little hurt, dear Emily,” said Jessie, as she passed her hand lightly over the bruise. “If you will go into the house with me, I’ll get mother to rub a little arnica upon it, and that will make it well very soon.”
“I won’t go in; and if your father don’t have that ugly dog killed, I’ll go home to-morrow, that I will!”
“What! have Rover killed? Oh, no! Pa won’t do that, I’m sure,” said Jessie, a little startled at the idea of dear old Rover’s death.
“I’ll kill him!” screamed Charlie, who was still a sulky prisoner in Guy’s hands.