"Well, I must say I've cut a pretty figure," said he, with a very red face. "No wonder the boys shouted!"
He felt like tossing Sambo over the fence, but then he thought of his little daughter.
"I suspect Weezy is crying this minute for her lost baby," said he, cramming Sambo, head first, into his pocket. "I'll take it home to her this time, but she must look out how she ties it again to my coat-button!"
—FENN SHIRLEY.
