They were only little dogs, but they made such a noise they scared me. I yelped and ran up the steps to the street as fast as I could, with them after me.
I thought they would certainly bite me, but someone called to them and they ran on down the steps again, looking back to bark at me once or twice.
After they had gone in the house again I didn’t know what to do. I was afraid to go down in any of the other basements for fear some other dogs might get after me.
I howled and howled.
I stood there shivering for a while, and then I went up the brown stone steps and got in a corner of the doorway there. The wind was so cold and I was so lonesome and miserable that I began to howl. I howled and howled, and the snow blew against me, and all up and down the street there didn’t seem to be anything alive but me.
Then suddenly the door I was leaning against opened. It opened so quickly that I almost fell over backward.
In the doorway stood a man, looking down at me. A boy was peeping around the door.
“There he is, father, down in the corner,” cried the boy.
The man stooped and picked me up by the scruff of the neck, and lifted me into the hall and shut the door. “The poor miserable little beast,” he said. I was so cold I could hardly stand.