United States or Russia ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Just then Mab saw something that made her call out: "Why it is a dog. It's OUR dog Roly-Poly!" "Are you sure?" asked her father. "Roly is over at Mr. Thompson's house you know," for the little poodle had been sent away while the garden was being made. Mr. Thompson had planted nothing, having too small a yard. "I don't care!" exclaimed Mab. "I DID see Roly.
'I with' I forget what you told me oh, 'I with Papa and there'th thomebody tummin' upsthairs!" he broke off suddenly; "it'h nurth tummin' to put me to bed. I don't want to go to bed yet." "And you shan't go to bed!" cried Paul, for he too thought he heard some one. "Never mind nurse, finish the the game." 'Papa and Buzzy Dicky back again as as they were before, repeated Roly at last.
"Oh, don't get in my way, Roly!" called Mab as the little dog danced about in front of her, while she was carrying a pan filled with cake dough toward the oven. "Look out! Oh, there it goes." Just what Mab had feared came to pass. She tripped over the poodle dog, and, to save herself from falling, she had to drop the pan of cake dough. Down it fell, right on Roly-Poly's back.
"Roly-Poly cried when I shut him up. I want to let him out." Soon the little dog came running out of the barn where Hal had locked him. Over into Mr. Porter's yard ran Roly and Sammie laughed when he saw Hal's pet rolling around in the pile of dried leaves Mr. Porter had raked together. "Roly, you be a good dog!" warned Mab, shaking her finger at him.
They were refreshed, just as a tired horse is made to feel, better, after a hot day in the streets, when he has a cool drink and is sprinkled with the hose. "Roly, get out the way or you'll be all wet!" cried Mab, as the little poodle dog ran around her beans when she was watering them. "Bow-wow!" barked Roly, just as if he said he didn't care.
Out on the slippery ice he ran, and then he turned around and, looking at Daddy Blake and the two children, he barked as loudly as he could. Roly-Poly was a queer dog that way. Sometimes he would mind Mab, and then, again, he would not. "I guess the ice is thick enough to hold up Roly," said Mr. Blake. "It doesn't need to be very strong for that, as Roly is so little."
"Would you say that this little tree is near the west coast of the island?" Townsend asked. "I've followed it around for the last half hour and I don't know where it is except it's here." "Here isn't a place," said Roly Poly. "Sure it is," shouted Pee-wee; "here is just as much a place as there." "More," said Townsend.
"Oh, but it is though," said Roly; "and you don't know what Roly's found." I'm in a hurry, my boy, I've got an appointment." "Roly's got something better than that," observed the child. Mr. Bultitude, in spite of his terror, was too much afraid of hurting him by brushing roughly past to attempt such a thing, so he tried diplomacy. "Well, what has Roly found a cracker?"
"I guess Roly can't be hurt very much or Daddy wouldn't laugh," said Mab. "I guess not," agreed Hal. "I wish we could go see what it is." Just then their father came out from among the tall lima beans. He had Roly in his arms, and the little poodle dog was cuddled up as though he did not want to leave them. "Is he hurt?" asked Mab. "A little," her father answered. "Where?" Hal wanted to know.
Porter led the way to that part of the garden where Roly had been caught by his little tail. On the ground, among the rows of beans, sometimes going right under them and spoiling the roots, was a long ridge of dirt, in a sort of wavy line. With his fingers Daddy Blake tore up some of the earth, and opened a regular little tunnel under ground.
Word Of The Day