TOODLES' MISHAP.

BY ASTON MOORE.


Toodles was dreadfully meddlesome. He could not leave things alone. If
you took the slippers away from him, he tried to eat the mat. If you put
the mat outside the door, he tore the corner of the tablecloth. And when
the cloth was folded up, he sharpened his teeth on the legs of the
table.

One evening he learned a lesson which made him a better dog. He was shut
in the kitchen, to keep him out of mischief. The plates and dishes were
on the shelves out of reach. There was no carpet on the floor. And his
sharp teeth could not do much harm to the plain deal legs of the chairs
and table.

But there was a lighted candle in a tall brass candlestick upon the
table. Toodles scrambled onto a chair, jumped to the table, and tried to
bite the candlestick. He could not break or tear it, but he soon knocked
it over, and the candle rolled to the floor, where it lay burning in a
pool of grease. Toodles ran to play with the candle. Next moment, he was
racing round the room, screaming with pain and fright. He had burned his
paw.

[Illustration: Toodles.]

If he is mischievous now, you have only to show him a lighted candle. It
makes him quiet and good at once.