It was my Mother who gave us the big sheet of brown paper to make our sign. My brother Carol mixed the paint. I mixed the letters. It was a nice sign. We nailed it on the barn where everybody who went by could see it. It said:
"Carol and Ruthy.
Dealers in Dogs who
Can't Sleep."
Nobody dealt with us. We were pretty discouraged.
We asked the Grocer if he had a little dog who couldn't sleep. We asked the Postman. We asked the Butcher. They hadn't.
We asked the old whiskery man who came every Spring to buy old bottles and papers. HE HAD!
He brought the dog on a dungeon chain. He said if we'd give him fifty cents for the dungeon chain we could have the dog for nothing.
It seemed like a very good bargain.
Our Father lent us the fifty cents.
He was a nice dog. We named him Tiger Lily. His hair was red and smooth as Sunday all except his paws and ears. His paws and ears were sort of rumpled. His eyes were gold and very sweet like keepsakes you must never spend. He had a sad tail. He was a setter dog. He was meant to hunt. But he couldn't hunt because he was so shy. It was guns that he was so shy about.
Our Mother invited us to wash him. He washed very nicely.