I'm s'prised at you, Rover! Pray what does this mean?
You're the naughtiest dog, sir, that ever I've seen,
To be teasing poor Kitty, and vexing her so;
Such conduct won't do, sir, I'd have you to know.
Was Kitty mistaken? You chased her in play?
Is that what your sorrowful eyes try to say?
Then puss shall forgive you; but, Rover, my dear,
Do please be more careful. You're too rough, I fear.
[Begun in No. 58 of Harper's Young People, December 7.]
TOBY TYLER;
OR, TEN WEEKS WITH A CIRCUS.
BY JAMES OTIS.
Chapter XX.
HOME AND UNCLE DANIEL.
Meanwhile the author of all this misery had come upon the scene. He was a young man, whose rifle and well-filled game bag showed that he had been hunting, and his face expressed the liveliest sorrow for what he had so unwittingly done.
"I didn't know I was firing at your pet," he said to Toby, as he laid his hand on his shoulder, and endeavored to make him look up. "I only saw a little patch of fur through the trees, and thinking it was some wild animal, I fired. Forgive me, won't you, and let me put the poor brute out of his misery?"