“You have taken more cold,” said Miss Laura, this night, as she put my plate of food on the floor for me.  “Finish your meat, and then come and sit by the fire with me.  What! do you want more?”

I gave a little bark, so she filled my plate for the second time.  Miss Laura never allowed any one to meddle with us when we were eating.  One day she found Willie teasing me by snatching at a bone that I was gnawing.  “Willie,” she said, “what would you do if you were just sitting down to the table feeling very hungry, and just as you began to eat your meat and potatoes, I would come along and snatch the plate from you?”

“I don’t know what I’d do” he said, laughingly; “but I’d want to wallop you.”

“Well,” she said, “I’m afraid that Joe will ‘wallop’ you some day if you worry him about his food, for even a gentle dog will sometimes snap at any one who disturbs him at his meals; so you had better not try his patience too far.”  Willie never teased me after that, and I was very glad, for two or three times I had been tempted to snarl at him.

After I finished my tea, I followed Miss Laura upstairs.  She took up a book and sat down in a low chair, and I lay down on the hearth rug beside her.

“Do you know, Joe,” she said with a smile, “why you scratch with your paws when you lie down, as if to make yourself a hollow bed, and turn around a great many times before you lie down?”

Of course I did not know, so I only stared at her.  “Years and years ago,” she went on, gazing down at me, “there weren’t any dogs living in people’s houses, as you are, Joe.  They were all wild creatures running about the woods.  They always scratched among the leaves to make a comfortable bed for themselves, and the habit has come down to you, Joe, for you are descended from them.”

This sounded very interesting, and I think she was going to tell me some more about my wild forefathers, but just then the rest of the family came in.

I always thought that this was the snuggest time of the day—­when the family all sat around the fire—­Mrs. Morris sewing, the boys reading or studying, and Mr. Morris with his head buried in a newspaper, and Billy and I on the floor at their feet.

This evening I was feeling very drowsy, and had almost dropped asleep, when Ned gave me a push with his foot.  He was a great tease, and he delighted in getting me to make a simpleton of myself.  I tried to keep my eyes on the fire, but I could not, and just had to turn and look at him.

He was holding his book up between himself and his mother, and was opening his mouth as wide as he could and throwing back his head, pretending to howl.

For the life of me I could not help giving a loud howl.  Mrs. Morris looked up and said, “Bad Joe, keep still.”

The boys were all laughing behind their books, for they knew what Ned was doing.  Presently he started off again, and I was just beginning another howl that might have made Mrs. Morris send me out of the room, when the door opened, and a young girl called Bessie Drury came in.