“Here, you let that little baby alone, if you please!”
“What’s that? Are you talking to me?” asked the dog, as he began to turn around, not knowing who was speaking to him.
“Yes, I am,” answered Blackie. “Go on, now! Run away, and let the child alone!”
“I will not!” said the dog, and then he turned all the way around and saw the big black cat. Up went Blackie’s back again, her tail grew as large around as a big brush, and how she hissed! “Zizz!”
“Oh, yow! Oh, wow!” howled the dog. “It’s that cat again! She’s after me!”
Away he ran, down off the stoop, and Blackie could not help laughing at him, for she had not hurt him at all.
“I guess I made him let that baby alone,” thought Blackie. “Don’t be afraid, little one,” said Blackie, though she knew, of course, that no child could understand cat-talk.
And then, to her surprise, Blackie saw that it was not a live baby at all, but a large doll, such as Mabel used to play with.
“Well did you ever!” exclaimed Blackie. “I thought it was a real child! It looks so natural. What will that dog think of me, taking a doll for a baby? He must be laughing at me.”
But the dog was too frightened then to laugh, though later on, when Blackie had gone, the dog came out from under the stoop where he had gone to hide and as he looked at the doll, which lay where the little girl-mother had dropped it, that dog said: