his hind legs, with fore-paws in the air, begging to be released. He
looked so ridiculous that both Tom and his sister burst into a fit of
laughter. Good humor was restored, the tangles cut, and the procession
returned homeward, Grip released from his cap, but still wearing his
trailing shawl.

When they reached the gate Tom stopped, and calling the dogs in a
line, he began an address: "Turk, Grip, and Pete Trone, Esquires, you
have all behaved very badly, and deserve condign punishment!" At these
words, uttered in a harsh voice, Pete Trone gave a short bark, and
Grip instantly sat up on his hind legs, as if to beg for mercy. "None
of that, gentlemen, if you please!" continued Tom; "special pleading
is not allowed before this jury. Turk, Grip, and Pete Trone, Esquires,
you are hereby sentenced to walk around the--garden on the top of the
fence. Up, all of you! jump!" said Tom, picking up a switch. Now,
indeed, all the culprits knew what was before them. That fence was a
well-known penance,--for when they did anything wrong this was their
punishment. Old Turk felt the touch of the switch first, and mounted
heavily to his perch, his great legs curved inward to keep a footing
on the narrow top; then came Pete, and, last of all, Grip, who, being
a heavy-bodied cur, crouched himself down as low as he could, and
crawled along with extreme caution. The fence was high, with a flat,
horizontal top about four inches wide. It ran around three sides of
the garden, and often, as Aunt Faith sat at her work in the
sitting-room, the melancholy procession of dogs passed the window on
this fence-top, followed by Tom with his switch. But Aunt Faith never
interfered. She knew that Tom was a kind master, who never ill-treated
or tormented any creature. Tom was a large-hearted boy, and, although
full of mischief, was never cruel or heartless; he found no pleasure
in ill-treating a dog or a cat, nor would he suffer other boys to do