If every boy in America could be taught to be as kind to animals as these boys were, and to interest himself personally in their treatment, this would be a better world to live in.
So the summer vacation days passed, with plenty of outdoor fun, the boys forming an ever closer comradeship with their common interest, and Romulus and Remus gaining in strength and wisdom every day. For the most part they were healthy dogs and gave their masters little concern on that score, though sometimes their tendency to get into mischief required attention, for Mrs. Whipple was not reconciled to their presence about her house and it was necessary to keep watch lest they offend beyond the chance of pardon. The day they brought Delia to the verge of tears by tearing a clean sheet from the clothesline and clashing with it about a muddy yard would have produced a disastrous crisis if Mr. Whipple had not once more intervened.
Once or twice the two dogs had to be doctored again for worms, and in August came the pest of fleas. This was a source of annoyance to both boys and dogs, and Mrs. Whipple, when she found it out, was in constant fear lest the insects be introduced into the house. When Ernest or Jack discovered one on their own persons at night they left no stone unturned to capture and decapitate it.
As to the dogs, they suffered not a little. Their long coats made a splendid breeding place for the parasites and they wore themselves thin with scratching. Fleas are not a pleasant thing to talk about, but all dogs get them, especially the long-haired kinds, and not even frequent visits to the swimming hole will eradicate them.
It was Sam Bumpus who told the boys what to do about it. One day, when they went up to visit him, he refused to let Romulus and Remus into the shack or near his kennels.
"They're full of fleas," said he as he watched the dogs scratching nervously, "and I don't want 'em to be droppin' 'em around where my dogs'll get 'em. I have trouble enough with the varmints as 'tis. You ought to get rid of 'em. If you don't, they'll hang on till November and the dogs'll be no good for huntin'."
"But how do you get rid of them?" asked Ernest.
"Wash 'em in cresolin or cresoleum or whatever your druggist wants to call it. He'll know what you want when you tell him. Mix it with warm water and soapsuds and scrub 'em good. Then rub 'em dry. Do it outdoors on the grass. It's better than insect powder. It won't kill all the eggs, but it will drive the fleas off, and if you keep at it, and do it often enough, you'll get rid of 'em all. Besides, it gives the dogs some relief before the new ones can hatch. Better burn their beds once in awhile, too, to kill the eggs in 'em."
The boys faithfully followed Sam's instructions and were pleased to find the trouble greatly abated.
It was in August, too, that they took Romulus and Remus for their first trip to Willowdale. They were anxious to learn what Mr. and Mrs. Hartshorn and Tom Poultice would think of their dogs, and they were always glad of an excuse to visit the bull terriers and Airedales and to listen to doggy talk.