One day Nellie was taken sick. A raging fever colored her face and sent her pulses bounding. For many anxious hours her tearful father watched by her bedside. Then Nellie began calling for her “doggy.”
The doctor, who was already grave, became graver. He told the father that if Nellie’s doggy was not found he feared that she might not get better.
Then She Lay Back on Her Pillow
A great pain came to the father’s heart, and his face twitched in misery. He would have given all he possessed to have back the little stray cur to save her—the little dog that he had stoned and sent whimpering down the road.
Evening came. The doctor, who had been holding little Nellie’s wrist in his hand, laid it very gently on the bed, a misty look in his eyes.
Suddenly he turned toward the door. There, just within the threshold, with drooping tail and a loving, pleading look fastened on the little figure in the bed, stood a stray dog.
The doctor looked into the little dog’s eyes, and understood. He knew it was Nellie’s doggy. Swiftly he caught the dog up in his arms and placed him on the bed.
With a glad cry little Nellie half-raised herself from her pillow, as her hands found the dog’s shaggy hair and felt the warm touch of his tongue. Then she lay back on her pillow, a new color in her cheeks and a new light in her eyes. She breathed easily and sighed contentedly. The doctor smiled tenderly and her father cried tears of joy.