plebeian blood in his noble body, will fulfill all the expectations of
his friends, and we shall hear of many a brave and gallant deed of his
performing; but when you have heard what Tommy Tompkins has to tell, I
think you will say that not even Don Quixote could have done himself
more credit under the circumstances than


TOMMY TOMPKINS' YELLOW DOG.

"Tommy shall tell the story as he told it to me:--

"'Yes, marm, he's my dog. His name's Grip. My father paid five dollars
for that dog. You look as if you thought he wasn't worth it; but I
wouldn't take twice the money for him, not if you was to pay it over
this minute. I know he ain't a handsome dog. I don't think yellow is a
pretty color for a dog, do you? and I wish he had a little more of a
tail. Liz says he's cur-tailed (Liz thinks it's smart to make puns), but
he'll look a great deal better when his ear gets well and his hair grows
out and covers the bare spots--don't you think so? But father says,
"Handsome is that handsome does," and nobody can say but that our dog
did the handsome thing when he saved over two hundred dollars in money
and all mother's silver spoons and lots of other things from being
stolen--hey, Grip? We call him Grip 'cause he hung on to that fellow so
till the policeman got in to take him.

"'What fellow? Why, the burglar, of course. Didn't you read about it in
the newspaper? There was a long piece published about it the day after
it happened, with headings in big letters: "The house No. 35 Wells
Avenue, residence of Thomas Tompkins, the well-known dealer in hardware,
cutlery, etc., was entered last night by burglars. Much valuable