name I afterward learned was Jack, and who came next to Miss
Laura in age, gave a low whistle and said, "Doesn't the old lady
come out strong when any one or anything gets abused? I'll never
forget the day she found me setting Jim on that black cat of the
Wilsons. She scolded me, and then she cried, till I didn't know
where to look. Plague on it, how was I going to know he'd kill the
old cat? I only wanted to drive it out of the yard. Come on, let's
look at the dog."

They all came and bent over me, as I lay on the floor in my corner.
I wasn't much used to boys, and I didn't know how they would treat
me. But I soon found by the way they handled me and talked to
me, that they knew a good deal about dogs, and were accustomed
to treat them kindly. It seemed very strange to have them pat me,
and call me "good dog." No one had ever said that to me before
to-day.

"He's not much of a beauty, is he?" said one of the boys, whom
they called Tom.

"Not by a long shot," said Jack Morris, with a laugh. "Not any
nearer the beauty mark than yourself, Tom."

Tom flew at him, and they had a scuffle. The other boys paid no
attention to them, but went on looking at me. One of them, a little
boy with eyes like Miss Laura's, said, "What did Cousin Harry say
the dog's name was?"

"Joe," answered another boy. "The little chap that carried him
home told him."