Street.

"'Then I set the yellow dog down on the sidewalk and looked him over.
My! he's a beauty now to what he was then, for he's clean and well-fed
and respectable looking; but then he was nothing but skin and bone, and
covered all over with mud and dirt, and one ear was torn and one eye
swelled shut, and he limped when he walked, and--well, never mind, old
Grip! you was all right inside, wasn't you?

"'Well, I never dreaded any thing more in all my life than taking that
dog home. Mother hates dogs. She never would have one in the house,
though I've always wanted a dog of my own. I knew Liz would call him a
horrid little monster, and Fred would poke fun at me--and, oh, dear! I'd
rather have gone to the dentist's or taken a Saturday-night scrub than
go into that dining-room with Grip at my heels.

"'But it had to be done. They were all at supper, and mother took it
just as I was afraid she would. If she only would have waited and let
me tell how I came by the dog, I thought maybe she would have felt sorry
for the poor thing; but she was in such a hurry to get his muddy feet
off the dining-room carpet that she wouldn't listen to a single word I
said, but kept saying, "Turn him out! turn him out!" till I found it was
no use, and I was just going to do as she said when father looked up
from his supper, and says he: "Let the boy tell his story, mother. Where
did you get the dog, Tommy?" "'We were all surprised, for father hardly
ever interfered with mother about us children--he's so taken up with
business, you know, he hasn't any time left for the family. But I was
glad enough to tell him how I came by the dog; and he laughed, and said
he didn't see any objection to my keeping him over night. I might give
him some supper and tie him up in the shed-chamber, and in the morning