“I was nearly dropping in my tracks by this time. While the two friends said good night I
stood still and tried to steady myself. Everything inside the house was going round and round, and everything was red. In a few seconds things cleared, and then I saw I was in a hall brightly lighted, and with a red stair carpet. Poor little ignorant dog—I did not know that hotel keepers in New York State are obliged to keep their halls lighted all night, in case of fire.
“Mrs. Martin was pretty clever. She looked down at me as I stood with my feet braced far apart, then she bent over me, took my dirty little body in her arms and toiled up the stairs with me, for she was pretty tired herself.
“I closed my eyes. She was not a person that needed watching. Then I felt myself let down gently, a button snapped to turn on the light, and there I was in the middle of what seemed to me a great big lovely nest, that smelt of flowers.
“Later on I heard even grand ladies who came to call on Mrs. Martin say it was a pretty room, so imagine what it was like to me, a little dog from the dumps!
“It was all pink and white and soft looking, but I did not take in all the furnishings that
night. I smelt water and I staggered toward the table where was a big glass jug of ice water.
“Mrs. Martin filled a glass and put it down on the floor. I drank it, and she filled another. I drank that, and then she said, ‘Moderation in all things, doggie. Wait a few minutes before you have any more.’
“I flopped down on a soft fur rug and put my nose on my paws.
“‘Poor little victim!’ she said. ‘I will make up your bed.’