The servants in our house were all kind to me and were fond of me, and so, as you see, mine was a pleasant life.  There could not be a happier dog that I was, nor a gratefuler one.  I will say this for myself, for it is only the truth:  I tried in all ways to do well and right, and honor my mother’s memory and her teachings, and earn the happiness that had come to me, as best I could.

By and by came my little puppy, and then my cup was full, my happiness was perfect.  It was the dearest little waddling thing, and so smooth and soft and velvety, and had such cunning little awkward paws, and such affectionate eyes, and such a sweet and innocent face; and it made me so proud to see how the children and their mother adored it, and fondled it, and exclaimed over every little wonderful thing it did.  It did seem to me that life was just too lovely to—­

Then came the winter.  One day I was standing a watch in the nursery.  That is to say, I was asleep on the bed.  The baby was asleep in the crib, which was alongside the bed, on the side next the fireplace.  It was the kind of crib that has a lofty tent over it made of gauzy stuff that you can see through.  The nurse was out, and we two sleepers were alone.  A spark from the wood-fire was shot out, and it lit on the slope of the tent.  I suppose a quiet interval followed, then a scream from the baby awoke me, and there was that tent flaming up toward the ceiling!  Before I could think, I sprang to the floor in my fright, and in a second was half-way to the door; but in the next half-second my mother’s farewell was sounding in my ears, and I was back on the bed again., I reached my head through the flames and dragged the baby out by the waist-band, and tugged it along, and we fell to the floor together in a cloud of smoke; I snatched a new hold, and dragged the screaming little creature along and out at the door and around the bend of the hall, and was still tugging away, all excited and happy and proud, when the master’s voice shouted: 

“Begone you cursed beast!” and I jumped to save myself; but he was furiously quick, and chased me up, striking furiously at me with his cane, I dodging this way and that, in terror, and at last a strong blow fell upon my left foreleg, which made me shriek and fall, for the moment, helpless; the cane went up for another blow, but never descended, for the nurse’s voice rang wildly out, “The nursery’s on fire!” and the master rushed away in that direction, and my other bones were saved.

The pain was cruel, but, no matter, I must not lose any time; he might come back at any moment; so I limped on three legs to the other end of the hall, where there was a dark little stairway leading up into a garret where old boxes and such things were kept, as I had heard say, and where people seldom went.  I managed to climb up there, then I searched my way through the dark among the piles of things, and hid in the secretest place I could find.  It was foolish to be afraid there, yet still I was; so afraid that I held in and hardly even whimpered, though it would have been such a comfort to whimper, because that eases the pain, you know.  But I could lick my leg, and that did some good.