Mr. Morris was a very busy man and rarely interfered in household
affairs. Mrs. Morris was the one who said what was to be done and what
was not to be done. Even then, when I was a young dog, I used to think
that she was very wise. There was never any noise or confusion in the
house, and though there was a great deal of work to be done, everything
went on smoothly and pleasantly, and no one ever got angry and scolded
as they did in the Jenkins family.

Mrs. Morris was very particular about money matters. Whenever the boys
came to her for money to get such things as candy and ice cream,
expensive toys, and other things that boys often crave, she asked them
why they wanted them. If it was for some selfish reason, she said,
firmly: "No, my children; we are not rich people, and we must save our
money for your education. I cannot buy you foolish things."

If they asked her for money for books or something to make their pet
animals more comfortable, or for their outdoor games, she gave it to
them willingly. Her ideas about the bringing up of children I cannot
explain as clearly as she can herself, so I will give part of a
conversation that she had with a lady who was calling on her shortly
after I came to Washington Street.

I happened to be in the house at the time. Indeed, I used to spend the
greater part of my time in the house. Jack one day looked at me, and
exclaimed: "Why does that dog stalk about, first after one and then
after another, looking at us with such solemn eyes?"

I wished that I could speak to tell him that I had so long been used to
seeing animals kicked about and trodden upon, that I could not get used
to the change. It seemed too good to be true. I could scarcely believe