I never put the chain on him. As I approached him with it in my
hand, he rose to his feet, his eyes sparkled, his black lips drew
back from his mighty teeth, he gave one savage bark and sprang at
me.

His chain held and I went into the house. That night he broke
loose and went home to his master, who lived fully ten miles away.

When I found in the morning that he was gone I was in doubt whether
it would be better to go and look for him or not. But I concluded
to keep up a brave heart, and found him, as I expected, at the
place where I had bought him. The Irishman took him to my house
again and I had to pay for the man's loss of time as well as for
his fare on the railroad. But the dog's old master chained him up
with the new chain and I felt repaid for my outlay.

Every morning and night I fed that dog, and I spoke as kindly and
gently to him as I knew how. But he seemed to cherish a distaste
for me, and always greeted me with a growl. He was an awful dog.

About a week after the arrival of this animal, I was astonished and
frightened on nearing the house to hear a scream from my wife. I
rushed into the yard and was greeted with a succession of screams
from two voices, that seemed to come from the vicinity of the wood-
shed. Hurrying thither, I perceived Euphemia standing on the roof
of the shed in perilous proximity to the edge, while near the ridge
of the roof sat our hired girl with her handkerchief over her head.

"Hurry, hurry!" cried Euphemia. "Climb up here! The dog is loose!
Be quick! Be quick! Oh! he's coming, he's coming!"