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thought. He was wondering whether the people who were moving into the next
house were as cross and unfeeling as the people who had just moved out. He
hoped they were not, for the people who had just moved out had never
treated Fido with that respect and kindness which Fido believed he was on
all occasions entitled to.
feather-beds look big and comfortable, and their baskets are all ample and
generous, -- and see, there goes a bright gilt cage, and there is a plump
yellow canary bird in it! Oh, how glad Mrs. Tabby will be to see it, -- she
so dotes on dear little canary birds!"
cunning little kittens in the hay-mow. Fido had heard her remark very
purringly only a few days ago that she longed for a canary bird, just to
amuse her little ones and give them correct musical ears. Honest old Fido!
There was no guile in his heart, and he never dreamed there was in all the
wide world such a sin as hypocrisy. So when Fido saw the little canary
bird in the cage he was glad for Mrs. Tabby's sake.
next house another pair of eyes peeped out of the old hollow maple over
the way. This was the red-headed woodpecker, who had a warm, cosey nest
far down in the old hollow maple, and in the nest there were four
beautiful eggs, of which the red-headed woodpecker was very proud.
"for I am not acquainted with them. But I have been watching them closely,
and by to-day noon I think I shall be on speaking terms with
them, -- provided, of course, they are not the cross, unkind people our old
neighbors were."
and, firm in this faith, she flew away to the linden over yonder, where,
she had heard the thrush say, there lived a family of fat white grubs. The
red-headed woodpecker wanted her breakfast, and it would have been hard to
find a more palatable morsel for her than a white fat grub.
And as he watched them he thought of what the redheaded woodpecker had
said, and he wondered whether it could be possible for little boys to be
so cruel as to rob birds' nests. As he brooded over this sad possibility,
his train of thought was interrupted by the sound of a voice that fell
pleasantly on his ears.
the other side of the fence, -- a cunning baby-figure in the yard that
belonged to the house where the new neighbors were moving in. A second
glance assured Fido that the calling stranger was a little boy not more
than three years old, wearing a pretty dress, and a broad hat that crowned
his yellow hair and shaded his big blue eyes and dimpled face. The sight
was a pleasing one, and Fido vibrated his tail, -- very cautiously, however,
for Fido was not quite certain that the little boy meant his greeting for
him, and Fido's sad experiences with the old neighbors had made him wary
about scraping acquaintances too hastily.
hands. Fido loved the little boy, too, -- yes, all at once he loved the
little boy; and he licked the dimpled hands, and gave three short, quick
barks, and wagged his tail hysterically. So then and there began the
friendship of Fido and the little boy.
he romped and played all that morning in the cool, green grass with the
little boy; and the red-headed woodpecker, clinging to the bark on the
hickory-tree, laughed at their merry antics till her sides ached and her
beautiful head turned fairly livid. Then, at last, the little boy's mamma
came out of the house and told him he had played long enough; and neither
the red-headed woodpecker nor Fido saw him again that day.
bright and early, and called, "Goggie! goggie! goggie! " so loudly, that
Fido heard him in the wood-shed, where he was holding a morning chat with
Mrs. Tabby. Fido hastened to answer the call; the way he spun out of the
wood-shed and down the gravel walk and around the corner of the house was
a marvel.
confessed that he indeed _was_ afflicted with fleas, -- not with very
many fleas, but just enough to interrupt his slumbers and his meditations
at the most inopportune moments. And the little boy's guileless
impeachment set Fido to feeling creepy-crawly all of a sudden, and without
any further ado Fido turned deftly in his tracks, twisted his head back
toward his tail, and by means of several well-directed bites and plunges
gave the malicious Bedouins thereabouts located timely warning to behave
themselves. The little boy thought this performance very funny, and he
laughed heartily. But Fido looked crestfallen.
their feet, and how the smell of clover came with the springtime breezes
from the meadow yonder! The red-headed woodpecker heard them at play, and
she clambered out of the hollow maple and dodged hither and thither as if
she, too, shared their merriment. Yes, and the yellow thistle-bird, whose
nest was in the blooming lilac-bush, came and perched in the pear-tree and
sang a little song about the dear little eggs in her cunning home. And
there was a flower in the fence-corner, -- a sweet, modest flower that no
human eyes but the little boy's had ever seen, -- and she sang a little
song, too, a song about the kind old Mother Earth and the pretty sunbeams,
the gentle rain and the droning bees. Why, the little boy had never known
anything half so beautiful, and Fido, -- he, too, was delighted beyond all
telling. If the whole truth must be told, Fido had such an exciting and
bewildering romp that day that when night came, and he lay asleep on the
kitchen floor, he dreamed he was tumbling in the green grass with the
little boy, and he tossed and barked and whined so in his sleep that the
hired man had to get up in the night and put him out of doors.
year the freshet had driven him from his childhood's home in the
corn-field by the brook, and now he resided in a snug hole in the pasture.
During their rambles one day, Fido and his little boy friend had come to
the pasture, and found the old woodchuck sitting upright at the entrance
to his hole.
friends in time, and almost every day they visited together in the
pasture. The old woodchuck -- hoary and scarred veteran that he was -- had
wonderful stories to tell, -- stories of marvellous adventures, of narrow
escapes, of battles with cruel dogs, and of thrilling experiences that
were altogether new to his wondering listeners. Meanwhile the red-headed
woodpecker's eggs in the hollow maple had hatched, and the proud mother
had great tales to tell of her baby birds, -- of how beautiful and knowing
they were, and of what good, noble birds they were going to be when they
grew up. The yellow-bird, too, had four fuzzy little babies in her nest in
the lilac-bush, and every now and then she came to sing to the little boy
and Fido of her darlings. Then, when the little boy and Fido were tired
with play, they would sit in the rowen near the fence-corner and hear the
flower tell a story the dew had brought fresh from the stars the night
before. They all loved each other, -- the little boy, Fido, the old
woodchuck, the redheaded woodpecker, the yellow-bird, and the
flower, -- yes, all through the days of spring and all through the summer
time they loved each other in their own honest, sweet, simple way.
boy had not come to the fence-corner and called to him. The sun was high,
the men had been long gone to the harvest fields, and the heat of the
early autumn day had driven the birds to the thickest foliage of the
trees. Fido could not understand why the little boy did not come; he felt,
oh' so lonesome, and he yearned for the sound of a little voice calling
"Goggie, goggie, goggie."
Fido trotted leisurely down to the fence-corner and asked the flower if
she had seen the little boy that morning. But no, the flower had not laid
eyes on the little boy, and she could only shake her head doubtfully when
Fido asked her what it all meant. At last in desperation Fido braced
himself for an heroic solution of the mystery, and as loudly as ever he
could, he barked three times, -- in the hope, you know, that the little boy
would hear his call and come. But the little boy did not come.
Fido. Poor, honest Fido, how lonesome he was and how he moped about! How
each sudden sound, how each footfall, startled him! How he sat all those
days upon the front door-stoop, with his eyes fixed on the fence-corner
and his rough brown ears cocked up as if he expected each moment to see
two chubby arms stretched out toward him and to hear a baby voice calling
"Goggie, goggie, goggie."
when Fido had called louder than usual. They saw a little figure in a
night-dress come to an upper window and lean his arms out. They saw it was
the little boy, and, oh! how pale and ill he looked. But his yellow hair
was as glorious as ever, and the dimples came back with the smile that
lighted his thin little face when he saw Fido; and he leaned on the window
casement and waved his baby hands feebly, and cried: "Goggie! goggie! "
till Fido saw the little boy's mother come and take him from the window.
seemed now -- and he talked with the flower and the woodpecker; and the
yellow-bird came, too, and they all talked of the little boy. And at that
very moment the old woodchuck reared his hoary head by the hole in the
pasture, and he looked this way and that and wondered why the little boy
never came any more.
hands that caressed you are indeed folded upon his breast; the lips that
kissed your honest faces are sealed; the baby voice that sang your
playtime songs with you is hushed, and all about him are the fragrance and
the beauty of flowers. Call on, O honest friends! but he shall never hear
your calling; for, as if he were aweary of the love and play and sunshine
that were all he knew of earth, our darling is asleep forever.
