Explore "The Key to Betsy's Heart" by Sarah Noble Ives on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
It was late September, with a blue haze on the hills, and a low sun, that made the red trees redder and the yellow trees yellower, just the kind of a day for a little dog to run abroad, wild and free and glad; a day that should have brought smiles to every one.
But no one smiled at the Johns' breakfast table that morning. There was no trunk to pack, for Van wore all the clothes he had -- just his pretty brown and white coat and his brass-studded collar. Betsy did, however, roll up his blanket, as if he were a soldier on the march, and it was to be taken along, in case he should be gone during cold weather.