Zip, the Adventures of a Frisky Fox Terrier

by Frances Trego Montgomery

The first look showed him a ragged tramp with battered hat, unshaven face and a bundle of clothes tied up in a dirty, faded red handkerchief strung on a cane over his shoulder. That one look was enough, for if there was one thing Zip despised and detested more than any other, it was a tramp. And for this one to dare to try to come in the front gate—the gate he never allowed anyone to enter unless they were well dressed—was more than he could stand, and he flew at the fellow as if he were the size of a lion and was going to devour him on the spot.

As for the tramp, he hated dogs as much as they hated him. It had been his experience that little dogs had just as sharp teeth as big ones and were much harder to drive off, as they were so quick they could get around and snap a piece out of one's shins before one could help himself. So when he saw Zip bound off the chair and come running toward him with bristles raised and teeth showing, he slammed the gate and started off down the road.

But here he did a silly thing. Instead of going off about his business, he stooped, picked up a stone and threw it at Zip, hitting him squarely on the side and hurting him dreadfully, as the stone was large and sharp. This was too much. He, Zip, would have a piece of that tramp's leg or he would know the reason why! The tramp thought he was safe in hitting the dog as the gate was shut and the fence high. But whoever yet has succeeded in shutting a little dog in a yard by a high fence? Not many people, I am sure, for the dog will always find a hole to crawl through or a pale off where he can squeeze through, or, not finding these, he will dig a hole under the fence. And this is what Zip had done many weeks before, for he found it necessary to have some place he could get through in a hurry to go after the school children who delighted in teasing him. So now quick as a flash he ran for this hole, which was well hidden by a big lilac bush, and before the tramp even knew he was coming, Zip was through the hole and had his little, sharp teeth buried in his shin. With a cry of surprise and pain, the tramp turned to see what had hurt him. When he saw the little dog, he raised his cane to strike him, but as it came down Zip let go his hold and grabbed the bundle that was on the end of the cane and made off with it. This infuriated the tramp and he hobbled after Zip, calling him all sorts of bad names as he came. This Zip did not mind in the least, but kept right on dragging the bundle along with him as he ran down the road.

Now this bundle was round and heavy, and hard for such a small dog to carry, and it kept tripping him up and rolling him over. But he hung on with the tenacity of a bulldog until he saw the tramp was going to overtake him. Then he decided not to try to carry it to the hole in the fence, but to jump the ditch and drop it in the frog pond. The tramp was almost upon him now and had his cane raised to hit him, but when it came down, it hit the earth, not the dog, for just at that moment Zip had made a flying leap over the ditch, taking the bundle with him.

Once there, he dragged it along or held it up off the ground by stretching his neck up high until he came to the edge of the frog pond. Then he let go and watched it disappear under the water.

By this time the tramp was simply furious and was threatening to catch and kill him, while all the time the saucy little dog barked back, "Better catch me before you kill me!"

Splash! went a big stone in the water, and if it had hit Zip, it certainly would have killed him as it was so big, but he jumped aside just in time. Then what did this mischievous, daring little dog do but stand perfectly still and watch the tramp come after him, wading through the tall, wet marsh grass, stumbling as he came. He was within five feet of Zip and was just thinking, "One more step and I can reach him!" when the long tangle grass caught one foot and threw him face down in the soft, oozy mud.

Zip barked a bark that sounded more like a laugh than a bark, making the tramp more determined than ever to kill him, even if he had to fall forty times before he caught him.

Had the tramp stopped to think, he might have known that the dog was going to play some trick on him, for who ever heard of a dog standing still while a man with a big, heavy cane was bearing down on him to brain him? But the tramp was far too angry to reason. All he thought of was to kill the dog that had bitten him and then ran off with his clothes. He picked himself up as best he could, and made a spring at Zip, bringing his cane down at the same time. But as before, when the cane came down there was no dog under it. Zip had jumped into the frog pond and was quietly swimming to the opposite shore.