Dew Drops, Vol. 37, No. 09, March 1, 1914

SAM'S LITTLE DOG

"Mother," cried Sam, raising his tousled head up from his no less tousled pillow, "I had the funniest dream you ever heard."

"Well," said mother, drawing the comb through her long brown hair, "I'll give you just five minutes to tell it in; then you must jump up quickly and run over to the bathroom."

"It seems to me I was dreaming it all night," said Sam, "but I believe I can tell it in less than five minutes: I thought I was going along, and a little black dog was following me. As long as I kept walking on straight ahead he trotted on behind me like a lamb, but every time I got out of the path, and tried to cross the fields, he barked and snapped at me till I came back to the path.

"I got tired staying in the path, so I dashed out on one side presently, but the doggie barked so furiously that I got scared and climbed a little tree. Just as I got to the top, the tree broke off at the roots and 'down came Sammy, tree top and all.' The fall woke me, and I found I had rolled out of bed. Wasn't that a funny dream?"

"Sam," said his mother, who had been much interested in his dream, "don't you wish you had a little dog to go around with you and bark when you went out of the right way?"

"I don't know, mother," answered Sam, doubtfully; "maybe I don't."

"I hoped you would say you did," said mother, looking disappointed, "and I was going to tell you that conscience was that very little dog, and if you tried to get away from conscience's barks, either up a tree or elsewhere, you would certainly fall and come to grief. Time's up, little boy; hie off to the bathroom."

–Selected.

How Eskimo Dogs Sleep on a Journey

You have heard a great deal, very likely, about Eskimo dogs that haul the sledges over the snow in Alaska. Have you ever heard what becomes of them at night, when the traveler must stop in a snowstorm? Would you like to hear?

When the traveler with his guides must stop, the sledge is turned up, and the men get into their fur sleeping-bags, and lie down under such protection as it offers, if there is nothing better. But the dogs are all turned loose. You would think that there was danger of not finding them in the morning, but there is no danger of that at all. When it is time to get up next day, the guides look around, and see as many snow mounds as there are dogs in the train, and in each mound where a dog has burrowed, and let the snow cover him, is a hole made by his breath. It is very easy to find the dogs by these holes, and they never go far from the sledge.

–Written for Dew Drops by Julia H. Johnston.

It was very evident that Judy was in trouble. There she stood in the middle of the yard, her tiny brows drawn together in a pucker, one finger resting between her rosy lips in a way that would have been irresistibly lovely if the lips had been smiling instead of pouting, her eyes cast down on the ground at her feet.

"I sha'n't! I sha'n't!" she kept saying every now and again, with a shake of her short, sturdy self.

"Judiet, come here!" called her mother from the kitchen, where she was making a pie for dinner. "Why, what's the matter, child?" she added, as she saw the very evident traces of displeasure on her little daughter's face.

"It's Tom, and I'll never forgive him!" she cried.

"Hush! hush! you mustn't say that, Judy. What has Tom been doing?"

"He's gone off playing, and he wouldn't let me go with him, and Daisy's gone with her brother."

"But perhaps Tom has gone some place where it would be too far for you to walk," said Mrs. Tewsbury, as she sliced the apples into the dish.

"He's only gone to watch the boys fly their kites, and he said I should stay home and play with my dolls. But I sha'n't!"

"Well, Judy, I want you to go to the store for me, and then, when you come back, we'll talk about Tom. There, run along now. Get the basket and bring me two pounds of sugar."