Just as she finishes a nice long story about an old ferret and a great long-tailed rat, a little girl's voice under the table calls out, "Come here, Bertie: I want to tell you something." Bertie slides down from the sofa, and runs to the table. He lifts up a corner of the table-cover and looks under.
There is nothing to be seen there, except a pair of very crooked legs, which belong to the table, of course.
"What does all that mean, I wonder!" Bertie says. And his eyes are as round as moons.
But, before Dora can reply, the same voice says, "Go to the door, Bertie: there is something there for you."
Bertie walks slowly toward the door, but stops halfway there, and asks, "Is it April-fool's Day?" And the voice under the table answers, "Go to the door and see."
So Bertie tries to look bold, and marches up, like a soldier going to battle. "Left, left! right, right!" calls out the voice under the table. But this time it is loud and strong, like that of a captain of the drill.
Bertie is a brave little boy: so he marches straight up to the door,—which stands open,—and looks out. Then he claps his chubby hands, and shouts, "Oh! it was my uncle Frank under the table. I forgot he was such a funny man. Oh, uncle Frank! How can you get in the house and out of the house, and nobody see you?"
"Look down here at me!" says a strange barking voice from the bottom of the steps. Bertie looks, and sees something that makes his eyes brighter than ever. It is a great, black, shaggy dog, hitched to such a nice little express-wagon. The harness fits its wearer as nicely as can be, and has silver rings and buckles. The reins are red, white, and blue. A neat whip lies across the seat of the wagon. On the sides of the wagon, in large gilt letters, are the words, "City Express."
The dog has a bright silver collar around his neck, with a small bell hung from it. The dog's name is on this collar. It is Nero.
