But what little boy can be merry when he has a raging toothache! Ned bore it like a hero; but he had to give up at last, and he was glad to take refuge in his mother's lap, and be a baby again for a while. With his head pillowed on his mother's breast, the little boy found some relief; but still he was in great pain. His sister stood by, trying to think of some way to help him. Ned could hardly keep from crying; but he said to his mother, "I should like to have you tell me a story." "What shall it be, darling?" said his mother. "Tell me about Harry and his dog Jack." This story had been told to Ned when he was a very, very little boy, and a good many times since then. It seemed odd to his mother that he had chosen such an old story. But he wanted to hear it; and so she told it all over again. This is the story:-- "There was once a little boy named Harry, and he had a little dog named Jack. Jack was a queer-looking dog. He was nearly all black; but he had a white tail, and his front-feet were white. "Harry loved Jack very much, and as he never forgot to feed him, and never teased him, the dog loved Harry very much. When Harry went to school, Jack went too,--not into the schoolroom (for dogs can't learn to read, you know), but into the school-yard, where he played about till Harry came out again. At recess, he used to play with the boys, and have almost as much fun as if he were a boy too. "The yard wasn't very large, and, when the boys played ball, they would often throw the ball over the fence. Then it was Jack's part of the play to run after the ball. The boys would call, 'Jack, Jack!' and Jack would run under the fence, seize the ball in his mouth, and bring it back to the boys. [Illustration: Mother, Son, & Daughter] "But, one day, the ball rolled off the pavement out into the street. A wagon was passing just then; and Jack was in such a hurry to get the ball, that he ran right in its way, and the wheel went over his leg. "The boys all ran out to help Jack; and one of them said, 'O Harry! I'm afraid that he is badly hurt; for see, he runs on three legs, and lets the other one hang.' Harry took Jack up in his arms, and said, 'Poor Jack, poor little Jack.' Then he felt very gently of the dog's leg, and found that it was broken. "Oh, how sorry Harry and all the other boys felt! Harry couldn't keep from crying, and they all said that if little Jack got well they wouldn't send him out after the ball any more. "As soon as they were back in the yard, Harry ran into the school-house with Jack in his arms, and said to the teacher, 'Please, sir, may I go home now? My poor little dog Jack has broken his leg, and I want to show him to my mother, and try and make it better.' The teacher said, 'Yes, Harry, you are a good boy, and Jack is a good little dog, and you may take him home.' So Harry started at once.