“Get away from there! Get out of this yard!” the harsh voice went on, and when a window was raised, Don saw a big, fat cook-woman, with a pan of water in her hand. She was just going to throw it on Don, but he ran out of the way in time.
“My! How impolite!” thought Don. “I never heard of such treatment! Just as if it would hurt anything if I took those bones nobody wants! The idea!”
Don felt quite badly as he ran away. No one had ever treated him that way before—not even when he was a little puppy, and he was now a big dog.
“Well, I’ll try another house,” thought Don, as he trotted on. “Maybe they will be kinder there. Anyhow I’m glad I ran before that fat woman had time to throw water on me. I wonder if it was hot water?”
Don trotted along, getting hungrier and hungrier every minute, until he saw another house. This one was painted red, but it was quite as large as the white one.
“Now to see if I can find a bone in this back yard,” Don thought, as he ran in. He saw a tin can in one corner of the yard, and from the can came a nice smell of bones.
“Ah ha!” thought Don. “Something to eat there, I’m sure.”
He went up to the can, and was just lifting the cover off with his paw, to get at the bone inside, when another harsh voice called to him:
“Be off out of there! I believe you’re the dog who rolled in my pansy-flower bed the other day. Get away from here! I don’t like dogs!”
Don looked up in time to see the gardener flinging a stone at him, and Don dodged out of the way, so as not to be hit.