Peter makes good, and stories of other dogs

The Coleman family were in possession of a roly-poly, fuzzy, brown-and-white pup named Peter, called Pete for short. Peter was a combination of several breeds of dogs. He had good and bad relations on both sides of the house, but his nearest kin, which were, of course, his father, Shep, and his Scotch collie mother, Susie, were very worthy dogs. They were not quarrelsome nor dishonest, lived peaceably with the house cat, and never tortured a rabbit before they killed it. Indeed, in all dogdom Susie and Shep were considered honorable citizens.

It was on account of this excellent record of the parent dogs that these good people were wanting ones of their likely offspring. They felt sure that a member of a family so worthy would grow up to be a useful dog.

Susie had tried to train Pete to be polite, and to observe the Golden Rule in his conduct toward cats and other animals less fortunate than himself. His father had given him a cuff on the side of the head when he found him running off with Betty’s shoe, and told him that “dogs who wished to grow up into leading citizens in dogdom didn’t steal young ladies’ shoes and chew the toes off them.” Then he made Pete take the shoe to his mistress, lay it at her feet, and wag his tail in apology.

In this way, these parents tried to instill into their son all the good principles they could before he should go out into the wide, wide world. In Pete’s case, this meant being taken in a basket to his new home at Coleman’s.

Pete’s parting with his home folks was pathetic. All that week he was favored above his brothers and sisters. The day before his departure, his father, Shep, took him slyly aside and whispered in his ear, “Follow me, but do not let even your mother know about it.”

So Pete watched his chance and, when Susie was taking her afternoon nap and others were playing tag, he sniffed about until he took up the trail to the garden. There he saw his dad digging in the ground. Finally Shep unearthed a well seasoned bone. What a treat Pete was to have, in being allowed to dine with his father off one end of that juicy, earth-flavored bone! There was no criticism of his table manners. What if he did fill his mouth too full and make a noise when he ate? Nothing was said about it, which was unusual, for his dad was a stickler for correct eating. Another time Pete would have been sent away from the feast, had he been greedy and asked for a third helping, but to-day, how different! For once he was allowed to put both paws on that sweet bone and to gnaw and gnaw, while his dad stood off smiling approval.

Peter wished there was no wide world to go out into. Why, he was just beginning to get along well at home. His brothers and sisters envied him, and what satisfaction he got out of having them all jealous of him—so nearly human was this little piece of dog flesh. The other pups’ eyes fairly bulged and turned green when they saw Susie tucking him tenderly in, the night before he was to leave his home.

How fondly she licked him, paying particular attention to his ears, to make sure they were clean. Now these very ears were always a source of dispute at other times. Many a cuffing Pete had received when they would not bear inspection. But to-night how gentle was her touch, what pathos in her whine, as she bade him good night! Susie was going through a crisis, such as comes to every mother when her family circle is broken, and one of her beloved ones goes out from the home nest. She wanted him to be an honor to her and his father. Would he?

We shall see.