“Tra, la, la, la, la,” I sang, “don’t you do it, Niger,” and Sister Susie cooed, “No—no—no—ooo.”
He winked again and said, “Bow, wow, wow,” quite roughly.
Mrs. Ringworth got up and burst into a forced laugh. “You are certainly very short-sighted, cousin, to try to add to the value of a thing you wish to retain. Come on, Blackie.”
“Don’t you do it, doggie, doggie, doggie,” I sang, and Daisy peeped, “Stay, stay dog, stay here.”
Niger looked out the window and yawned as if he were bored.
“Dog,” said Mrs. Ringworth angrily and stamping her foot, “come with me; I command you!”
He got up and, sauntering over to the corner, picked up some crumbs that had fallen from our cage.
“Ungrateful cur,” said Mrs. Ringworth, “after all I have done for you—but you’ve got to go with me. You’re my property. I wish I had a string.”
Mrs. Martin and Mary sat like two stuffed birds, and did not move even their eyes.
Their cousin pulled a handsome silk scarf off her neck and tied it to the dog’s collar. Then she started to pull him—Niger perfectly good natured but bracing his feet.