But finally we reached home; then I had a warm bed, and a nice place; but some nights I was terribly scared there in the dark all alone. The boys had a pet donkey, and the first night I was there that fellow made his horrid bray. My! I thought I should die with fright. Well, when I had got a little used to the donkey, what should I hear in the tree over my head but a horrid “To hoo! to who?” Yes, Sport, you may wag your tail and laugh; you know “who,” for you are a full-grown dog, and know all about the great staring owl, but with me it was a different matter. As I remarked before, I think, my master was kind, and so was mistress, and they had no very small children to torment a little pup. Their little girl was so sweet and kind, it was always a pleasure to kiss her soft cheek; I do not believe she ever had any nice thing to eat that she did not wish to share with me. Her brother was a noble fellow, too. Not always so thoughtful as his sister, and sometimes pretty rough; but so long as he did not mean to be ugly and hurt me, I could bear it. The worst, I remember, was when their cousins and some of the neighbors’ children would come for the afternoon on a visit. At first I was glad to see so many little children, but I soon found that all children had not such sweet dispositions as my master’s, or else their parents had not taught them so carefully. We all ran and romped, and for a time it was jolly enough; but when my young master and mistress were out of sight, one of those rough boys would do something to torment me. He pulled my ears and my tail; once he boxed my ears so hard that I cried right out. Then they put me on that donkey’s back, and while I was held there, the creature made one of those dreadful noises! Then I cried so loud my little mistress came and took me away. Once I was so frightened by those rude children that I hid under the barn. I could hear them call my name and whistle for me, but I did not mean to come out till the children had gone. It seemed a long time, but they finally went—I mean the visitors—and then I was only too ready to get out, for it was growing pretty dark where I was. We were all very much frightened, but when master came home he took a big iron bar and pried a stone out, and made a hole big enough for me to crawl through as easy as need be. I cannot make myself believe that those children remembered with pleasure what they had done to me that day. They never looked sweet and happy like little Lucy and her brother. I long ago came to the conclusion that if one would be happy he must try to make others so; and I do not believe it makes much difference whether he walks upon two legs or four. Another thing, I believe one’s usefulness depends very much upon whether he keeps his eyes open or not. Why, one does not need to be a full-grown dog to be able to make himself useful, and so thought a great deal of.