“Oh, I can’t talk to you,” sighed the Dog, “for you only say the same thing over and over again.” And this was true. A clock is one of the most tiresome beings in the world to talk to, and it is so busy that it never has time to play—it goes “tick-tock” all the while.
“I can see I am not going to have a very good time here,” said the Woolly Dog. “There was more fun back in the store with the poor toys.”
But still he had a few adventures. Once he fell off the mantel into the scuttle of coal when a door slammed too hard, and Mrs. Ward had to put him in one of her tubs of suds to wash him. Mrs. Ward did washing to make a living, and Frank worked in a store. Another time the Woolly Dog was placed in a dark closet out of the way, and there a big Rat got hold of him, thinking he was something good to eat.
“Oh, bah! You’re only stuffed with cotton!” snarled the Rat, after he had tried to drag the Woolly Dog into its hole. “I can’t eat you!”
“I’m glad of it,” said the Woolly Dog.
“You’re Only Stuffed With Cotton!” Snarled the Rat.
The Story of a Woolly Dog.
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The Rat left the Woolly Dog on the floor of the closet and went in search of something else to gnaw. The next morning Frank, looking for his rubbers, as it was raining, saw the Dog.