Then he rides away and locks them up in the great place inside the
high fence, and they have to stay awhile. The dogs are killed if
nobody comes for them.

"Well," said Dicky, "let us go and see the pound-man. Do you know
where he lives?"

"Yes, indeed," answered the little girl, whose name was Lola. "I ran
behind the cart all the way to the pound. I cried after Bruno, and
Bruno whined for me, and poked his nose between the bars and tried to
jump out, but he couldn't. It's a pretty long way there, and the man
is as cross as two sticks."

But they started off, and on and on they walked together, Dicky having
tight hold of Lola's hand, while she told him about the wonderful
things Bruno could do; how he could go up and down a ladder, play the
fife and beat the drum, make believe go to sleep, and dance a jig. It
was by these tricks of his that Lola earned money for her uncle, with
whom she lived; for her father and mother were both dead, and there
was no one in the whole world who loved the little girl. The dear
mother had died in a beautiful mountain country far across the ocean,
and Lola and Bruno had been sent in a ship over to America. Now this
dear, pretty mamma of Lola's used to sing to her when she rocked her
to sleep, and as she grew from a baby to a tiny girl she learned the
little songs to sing to Bruno when he was a little puppy. Would you
like to hear one of them? She used to sing it on the street corners,
and at the end of the last verse that knowing, cunning, darling Bruno
would yawn as if he could not keep awake another minute, tuck his
silky head between his two fore paws, shut his bright eyes, give a
tired little sigh, and stay fast asleep until Lola waked him. This is