"The tanner's dog repeated his attack for two or three days, and, more than that, drove poor Bravo from his nice warm quarters at night, compelling him to lie out in the cold. Then Bravo said to himself, 'Something must be done. I dare not fight Toss; for he has long teeth, and is a savage dog,—more than a match for me. I think my best plan is to go and tell Rory.' And away he sped, just at sunrise, and came back in time for breakfast, with a cheerful look in his face.
"Now, Rory was steady and brave and wise. He had no love for running round nights: so it surprised his master, when, just as the sun went down that day, Rory started down the road, and up the lane to farmer John's. On he went, with a grave look, without stopping to greet any old friend, even by a wag of his tail. Bravo met him, and whisked around him; and, after a short consultation, the two dogs crawled into the kennel, Rory staying nearest to the door.
"The moon shone clear and bright, and all was still until about midnight, when farmer John's wife was suddenly awakened by a sound of growling, snarling, and yelping. 'Wake up, John, quick, quick! Get up!' she shouted. The farmer leaped from his bed, and, half-dressed, ran to the door, thinking that the dogs were killing sheep; but instead of sheep, Rory and Bravo had Toss at their mercy, and were giving him a fearful punishment."
"Good, good!" shouted Herbert. "That served him just right."
But little Bertha turned a wondering look upon Herbert; she could not help feeling pity even for Toss.
"Let us hear the rest of the story," said Emma.
So I went on,—
"The sharp voice of the farmer made Rory and Bravo release their victim; and Toss, in a crestfallen way, started for his home; but, before he could get over the fence, Rory gave him a final clutch that sent him off yelping. He never came back; and when he met Bravo afterwards, he was careful not to trouble him.