At this and his persistent prodding there crawled from under the rugs, not a battered old man nor a slender boy, but a good-sized mongrel spaniel dog.
Mrs. Martin says that she and her husband literally staggered against the wall. Dog-lovers as they were, they had never heard of such a thing as a dog talking.
Then, when they got over their surprise there was such a shouting. By this time, Hester and Anna were aroused and were running round the top of the house calling out to know what was the matter.
Our Mary unlocked the sitting room door and cried out to them to come down to her, and then Mr. and Mrs. Martin appeared leading between them this big black spaniel.
He was terribly cowed and frightened, but when they held up the lantern and he saw our
Mary, he gave a leap at her and buried his head in her lap.
“Why, it’s my Niger,” she screamed, “my darling Niger that was stolen when he was a puppy! Oh, oh, Niger, Niger!”
I never saw anything more affecting. Our Mary was so unstrung that she cried, and her parents stood looking at her with glistening eyes.
“And he’s been in good hands,” she said at last, when she got calm. “See how glossy his hair is, mother dear, and he smells of some exquisite perfume. My darling doggie, where have you been?”
I touched Daisy with my beak. All this would have been hard on Billie if she had been here, for she is of a very jealous nature.