[“It’s my dog, Don, that ran away from the farm a long while ago!”]
“Oh, Cousin Bob! I was afraid you couldn’t come, you live so far off in the country. But I’m awfully glad you came to my party.”
“So am I glad, Cousin Alice,” said the big boy. “I came on the train. I wouldn’t miss one of your parties for anything! Why you have a new dog!” he exclaimed, as he saw Don.
“Yes,” answered Alice, “I got him out of the pound, where they had taken Rex, and—”
Then Alice suddenly stopped talking, for her cousin Bob, who had come all the way from the country to her birthday party, stood looking at Don in a queer way. And Don was looking at Bob.
“Why—why—” began Bob. “That dog—he looks just like—why I believe [it’s my dog, Don, that ran away from the farm a long while ago!”] he cried. “It’s Don!”
Don was barking now. He did not care how many vases he jarred from the mantel.
“Bow wow!” he barked. “Of course I’m Don, and you’re my master Bob. I know you!”
He sprang toward the boy, and, rising up, put his paws on Bob’s shoulder, licking his master’s face and hands with his tongue.