"Well, a full-blooded cur-dog is somethin' rare in these parts. You wouldn't find him at an ordinary dog-show, like your mother goes to. Now, Sammy's dog is full-blooded—leastways, he will be, when he's fed up."
"My mother's dog is a pedigree-dog. Is Sammy's that kind?"
"I ain't ast him, but I shouldn't wonder."
"My mother's got a paper tells all about where Fifi came from. It's in a frame."
"Fifi is?"
"No, the paper is. The paper says Fifi is out of a deller, sired by
Star. I heard her read it off to a lady that came to see her one day.
Say, Martha, what's a deller?"
"I do' know."
"Fifi has awful long ears. What kind of ears has Sammy's dog got?"
"I didn't notice partic'lar, I must say. But he's got two of 'em, an' they can stand up, an' lay down, real natural-like, accordin' to taste—the dog's taste, which wouldn't be noways remarkable, if it was his tongue, but is what I call extraordinary, seein' it's his ears. An' his tail's the same, exceptin' it has even more education still. It can wag, besides standin' up an' layin' down. Ain't that pretty smart for a pup, that prob'ly didn't have no raisin' to speak of, 'less you count raisin' on the toe of somebody's boot?"
"D'you mean anybody kicked him?"