“I suppose they put on it all sorts of things that dogs and cats like,” said Sam, “bones and cakes and all such things.”
“Perhaps they put on some things for them to play with,” said Billy, who had listened with great interest to all Mr. Ledwell had said about the Home.
“I shouldn’t wonder if they did,” said Grandpapa.
“And I guess they put saucers of milk and plates of nice food under the tree,” said Billy, who had a good deal of imagination.
Toby listened to this conversation and ceased to struggle. All this sounded very well, if it were true, but he expected to find at the Home dogs sitting about listlessly, just as he had seen the old people at the poorhouse in his town. The story of the Christmas-tree pleased him greatly. “Perhaps, after all, it is not so bad as I expected,” said Toby to himself, as the sleigh stopped.
“Here we are!” said Grandpapa, as he got out and took Toby in his arms.
“It doesn’t look like a Home,” said poor Toby to himself. He had expected to see a large brick building standing by itself like the poorhouse. “It looks just like the other houses.”
“Don’t be afraid, little fellow,” said Mr. Ledwell, as he felt Toby tremble. “Nobody is going to hurt you. You stay in the sleigh with Billy, Sam. I will bring you both to see the little dog when he feels at home.”
Mr. Ledwell entered the house and set the little dog on the floor. Poor Toby was so limp from fear that he could hardly stand, but remained in the spot where he was placed with drooping head and tail.
“I have brought you a new dog,” said Mr. Ledwell, addressing a rosy-cheeked young woman. “Have you a place for him?”