so in his presence. Many a battle had he fought with boys of mean and
cruel natures, to rescue a bird, or some other helpless creature. "It
is only cowards," he would say, "who like to torment birds, cats, and
dogs. They know the poor things can't fight them back again."

Old Turk,--a giant in size among dogs,--had been in the family for
many years; Grip was rescued from the canal, where some cruel boys had
thrown him, by Tom himself; and Pete Trone, Esquire, was bought with
Tom's first five-dollar bill, and soon proved himself a terrier of
manifold accomplishments,--the brightest and most mischievous member
of the trio. All the dogs had been carefully trained by Tom. They
could fetch and carry, lie down when they were bid, sit up on their
hind legs, and do many other tricks. Aunt Faith used to say, that if
Tom would only learn his lessons half as well as he made his dogs
learn theirs, there would be no more imperfect marks in his weekly
reports.

In the meantime, the dogs had turned the corner of the fence, and were
slowly advancing towards the house; while Grace, carrying Estella,
came up the garden-walk. "Halt!" said Tom, and the three dogs stopped
instantly; Turk, not daring to turn his head to see what was the
matter, for fear of losing his balance, blinked out of the corner of
his eye, as much as to say, "I wouldn't turn round if I could." "Pete
Trone," said Tom gravely, "it is evident that this punishment is not
severe enough for you; a dog that has time to wag his tail and yawn,
cannot be in much anxiety to keep his position on the fence. Pete
Trone, Esquire, for the rest of the way you shall wear Grip's cap." So
the terrier's black face was encircled with the white frill, and, this
accomplished, the march was resumed, and the three dogs disappeared
behind the house.