I once knew a dog, and he had earned his good name honestly. He was so genuine a sea-dog that he had been named Surf, and there was not a better sailor on the Maine island where he lived. Surf knew nearly all the islanders, and they knew him. Whenever he met any of them, he wagged his tail genially. It was his mode of saying good morning, or how-d'ye-do; and the people would always return his friendly greeting. There's an old saying, that "It's better to have the good-will than the ill-will of a dog." There were a few boys whom Surf snarled at, and you may rest assured that they were very rough, mean boys. The best young fellows thought Surf a fine comrade, with whom they could enjoy a romp almost as well as if he were a schoolmate. If his master or any of the family were going out in a boat, Surf was the first on board; and taking his place in the extreme bow, he saluted every one within hailing distance. No matter how hard it blew, or how blinding the spray, he maintained his place, vigilant and fearless. Thus he came to be the best-known and most popular dog on the island. Everybody had a smile for him; everybody had a good word for him. Many boys who go to school and can read and write are not so true and kind as was Surf.
So abounding in good nature was Surf that he made friends even of the people who passed by the island, and many passed every day. The channel followed by steamers was not far distant from the point on which his master, Mr. Andrews, lived. When a boat was nearly opposite this point Surf went down to the water's edge and barked, not in a spiteful, malicious way, but in cheery tones, as if calling out "How are you, old fellow!" The spirit in which anything is done is soon known, and the pilots of the steamboats began to answer his barking with the steam whistle. At this, Surf would wag his tail as if the proper courtesies had been exchanged, and return quietly to the house. So it came about that captains and crews and not a few of the passengers expected a salutation from Surf, whenever the boat neared the point.
Surf was not spoiled, however, by his popularity. He put on no airs whatever, and was just as ready to play with little Bob Andrews, and follow him about, as he was to "pass the time of day," after his fashion, with the captain of a steamer, or the richest man on the island. Bob was a reckless little mortal, and Surf appeared to have the impression that the boy needed looking after. Like many people who live by the sea, the Andrews family had the feeling that they could never be drowned, and no one was more venturesome than Bob in clambering over the rocks about the ocean's edge.
SURF PULLED OFF THE BOY'S CAP AND RAN WITH IT AT FULL SPEED TO THE HOUSE.
One day, however, he ventured too far and too carelessly, for he fell with a splash into deep water. The little fellow could not swim, and his bubbling cry for help could scarcely have been heard on the rock from which he fell, so loud was the noise of the dashing waves. Surf's tail became rigid with the stress of the emergency; then over the rock he went after his playmate. Seizing the boy by the coat-collar, he swam around the rock to a gravelly beach, and soon had him high, but not dry, on the shore. Indeed, the little fellow had taken so much water inside as well as out that he lay helpless and insensible, though beyond the breaking waves.
For a moment, Surf was puzzled. He knew his task was not finished; but what should he do next? A bright thought struck him. The day was windy, and the boy had pulled his little cap down over his ears so tightly that the waves had not washed it off. But Surf pulled it off with his teeth and ran at full speed with it to the house. The family was just gathering around the dinner-table when the great, wet dog bounded in and laid the well known cap on Mr. Andrews' chair.
"Merciful Heaven!" cried the father, seizing the cap and rushing out, followed by his wife and all the family.
Surf led the way, whining in a low tone, to where Bob lay, pale indeed, but already showing signs of life. Fortunately, Mr. Andrews was an intelligent man and knew just what to do. And so, within an hour, Bob was in his high chair at the table with the rest. But he shared his dinner, that day, with the brave dog that had saved his life.
Surf entered so heartily into the family rejoicing, and was so elated at the praise he received, that there seemed to be some danger that he would wag his tail off before the day ended.