One morning in Summer, Mrs. Hill needed some meat for dinner. She wrote a note and put it in a certain basket. With it she put a purse and covered them with a white cloth. Then she went to the door and called, "Rover! Rover!" Rover came bounding up the path. "I want you to go to the store," said Mrs. Hill, giving him the basket. Rover took the handle in his mouth, trotted down the path to the road and turned toward the village. As he passed the Allen farmhouse, he saw Sport, a little brown dog with whom he often played. Sport came running out with a few friendly barks which meant, "Come on, Rover, I am ready for a frolic." Rover turned his head toward his little friend, but kept trotting right on, with a look that plainly said, "I can't stop to play now. I'm on important business." When he came to Mr. Brown's store, there were some men standing on the steps. "Well, Rover," said one of the men, "what did you come for to-day?" Rover looked at the man, but walked right on, pushed the screen door open and went into the store. "Good morning, Rover," said Mr. Brown. "What can I do for you?" Rover put the basket on the floor and then looked up. Mr. Brown took out the white cloth and found the note Mrs. Hill had put there. "Two pounds of beefsteak. Very well," said he. He weighed a piece and wrapped it with paper and put it in the basket. Out of the purse he took a bill and put some change back. Then he covered them with the white cloth and put a brown wrapping paper on top, to keep out the dust. "You can take this home now, and mind you don't lose it," said he, as he held the door open. Rover took up the basket and went down the steps. "A pretty smart dog!" said one of the men, as Rover trotted along. Down the street he went, with the basket held high from the ground. Rover could smell the meat, and it made him feel hungry. But he had never touched anything that he carried in his basket and he did not do it now. When he came to the house where Ned Hopkins lived, he saw Ned sitting on the fence, whittling a stick. "I'll try to make Rover drop that basket," said Ned. He whistled and called, "Here, Rover, get it," as he threw the stick across the road. Rover stopped and looked longingly at it. One of his favorite games was to fetch sticks that were thrown for him. But he did not run after it this time. "Come, Rover, old dog," said Ned, getting down from the fence; "let me see what is in your basket." He patted Rover on the neck and then reached over to take the basket. Rover held the handle tightly in his teeth and growled, "Gr-r-r-" Ned had never heard Rover growl like that before. "Oh, well, if that is the way you feel about it, I won't bother you," said he. "Gr-r-r-r! You had better not," growled Rover. And he started on up the road. After leaving the village, he came to a house where a man named Mr. Hook lived all alone. Mr. Hook was sitting in his front yard as Rover came along.