A Little Florida Lady

by Dorothy C. Paine

"Come, come, Fritz. Dance for de missy."

Fritz wagged his stubby tail more vigorously, but gave no other response. The boy looked wise.

"He's bashful, missy, jes' like me. Perhaps, if I whipped him like my mother whips me——"

"Does she whip you?"

"Yes, 'deed she does—if she kotches me," added the boy laughingly. "If I'd whip Fritz, he'd dance, but I likes him too well to whip him."

Beth liked all dogs, with or without pedigree, and said warmly:

"I wouldn't whip him either, but it's too bad he won't dance. I'd really like to see him."

Again the boy said coaxingly, "Fritz, do dance," but the dog was not to be coaxed.

The boy frowned. "Yo'll think he can't dance, but 'deed he can. Maybe, if I dance, he'll dance too."

At the word, the ragged pickaninny began whistling, and then he capered around and around performing some wonderful steps. Whereupon Fritz began to bark and caught at his master's heels.