Woolly Dog Objects to Jane’s Scissors.
The Story of a Woolly Dog.
Page [46]
“No, I hardly think so. The storekeeper didn’t say he did.”
“Well, I was lookin’ for his bark,” said Jane, “but I didn’t find it.”
“Yes, and you’ve killed him—that’s what you’ve done!” cried Donald. “Jane, you’re a bad, bad girl! My Woolly Dog is spoiled dead!”
“Never mind, I’ll get you another,” said Uncle Teddy.
Mrs. Cressey picked up the Woolly Dog from her little girl’s lap. Some of the cotton stuffing was sticking out of the gash the scissors had made in his stomach. Donald’s mother looked the Dog over carefully.
“He isn’t much harmed,” she said. “I can easily mend him, Donald.”