Mr. Lee laughed. “Do you remember,” he asked, turning to his wife, “the story we heard long ago of that old gentleman in Portsmouth, New Hampshire, who had such a knowing dog?”
“Yes, I remember. Minnie will be interested to hear that.”
“O, yes, father!”
“It seems his dog was so intelligent that he could do almost every thing but talk. Among other things, he was in the constant habit of attending church with his master. The old gentleman wore a wig, and having purchased a new one, donned it for the first time on Sunday morning, leaving the old one hanging on a chair in his bed room.
“It happened that Bose had been taking a nap that morning in the garden, and did not awake in time to accompany his master to church. He entered the house, and perceived at once that he was late; but on seeing the wig, he imagined it had been forgotten, and catching it in his teeth, before he could be stopped, disappeared with it into the street.
“The old gentleman’s feelings may be imagined, when, in the commencement of the sermon, he saw Bose quietly trotting along the aisle, in full view of all the congregation, with the wig in his mouth, not stopping till he reached the familiar pew.”
“I fancy the good man wished his dog had remained at home,” said Mrs. Lee, laughing heartily; while Minnie, who did not seem exactly to understand, exclaimed,—
“I thought, mamma, that wigs were fastened on like hair. I’m sure aunt Mary never takes hers off.”
Mr. Lee suddenly started up. “This is not doing my business,” he exclaimed. “If I don’t look out sharp, I shall miss an appointment. Run, Minnie, to the barn, and tell John to put the black mare into the buggy as quickly as possible.”
Before he had put on his boots, she came back, out of breath, calling out,—