"Come 'way, Fritz. What yo' mean by jumpin' on de missy?"

Beth eyed doubtfully both the dog and his master. The latter looked at
her reassuringly.

"Yo' needn't be 'fraid, missy. I won't let Fritz hurt yo'."

"I--afraid--of him! He don't look as if he could harm anything," and
Beth laughed.

The boy appeared grieved.

"Really, missy, he's a wonderful dog. I'll show yo' what he can do.
Come, Fritz, dance for missy."

The ragged leader held up a warning finger. Fritz wagged his stubby
tail, but did not budge.

"Come, come, Fritz. Dance for de missy."

Fritz wagged his stubby tail more vigorously, but gave no other
response. The boy looked wise.

"He's bashful, missy, jes' like me. Perhaps, if I whipped him like my
mother whips me----"

"Does she whip you?"

"Yes, 'deed she does--if she kotches me," added the boy laughingly.