Jack, the Fire Dog. Wesselhoeft Lily F.

when he’s in that condition. He laps his chops too, then.”

      The children had been waiting all this time, the boy who held Toby by a string occasionally giving him a gentle pull as a reminder that it was time to go. They patted Jack, while they peered curiously in through the open door at the engine that stood ready for use at a moment’s notice. They thought it was time to start for home, as they had quite a distance to go. So Toby took leave of his new friend, casting longing glances behind him as he was pulled along.

      “He appears to be a well-meaning sort of fellow,” said Jack to himself, “but he doesn’t look to me smart enough to apply the rules I have given him. A dog of character like Boxer would have brought it about by himself. However; it’s as well that we are not all made alike.”

      Jack’s attention was before long diverted from the subject of his new acquaintance by the return of his charge Billy, who greeted him so affectionately that warm-hearted Jack forgot everything else and escorted his charge into the engine-house to see that he got safely up the steep stairs.

      Meanwhile Mr. Ledwell and Sam drove down town to do a few errands. One of them was to leave an order at a bake-shop, and as the sleigh stopped before the door, they noticed a group of children, one of them holding by a string a little yellow dog with a black pug nose. They were gazing eagerly in at the tempting display of cakes in the large windows, and Sam noticed that the little dog seemed to eye them just as longingly as the children did.

      Now Sam’s grandpapa was just the kind of man that any child or animal would appeal to if he were in trouble, and as he stepped out of the sleigh and walked by the group of children, he looked at them in his usual pleasant manner.

      “Mister,” said a voice very timidly, “will you please to give me a cent to buy something to eat?”

      The voice came from a little girl, the youngest of the children.

      “Why, Maysie, you mustn’t ask for money; that’s begging,” said the boy who was holding the dog.

      “What do you want to eat, little girl?” asked Mr. Ledwell’s kind voice.

      “Cake,” replied Maysie, emboldened by the pleasant eyes that seemed to be always smiling.

      “Well, look in at that window,” said Mr. Ledwell, “and tell me what kind of cake you think you would like to eat.”

      Maysie’s mind was evidently already made up, for she at once pointed to a plate of rich pastry cakes with preserve filling.

      “That kind,” replied Maysie, promptly.

      “Could you eat a whole one, do you think?” asked Mr. Ledwell.

      “Yes,” replied Maysie, eagerly.

      “Could you eat two, do you think?” asked Mr. Ledwell.

      “Yes,” replied Maysie, promptly.

      “Do you think you could eat three of them?” asked Mr. Ledwell.

      “Yes,” replied Maysie.

      “Well, do you think you could eat four?”

      “I’d try,” replied Maysie, confidently.

      “Wait here a minute,” said Mr. Ledwell, “and I will see what I can do.”

      The children crowded around the window, and eagerly watched the young woman behind the counter fill a large paper bag with cakes from every plate in the window, the largest share being taken from the plate of pastry cakes that had been Maysie’s choice.

      Mr. Ledwell glanced at the faces peering in at the window, following eagerly every motion of the young woman with the paper bag. The little yellow dog was no less interested than the children, and had been held up in the boy’s arms, that he might obtain a better view. From this group Mr. Ledwell’s eyes fell on his little grandson, who was standing up in the sleigh to see what was going on, and whose bright face was aglow with pleasure at the prospect of the treat in store for the group at the window.

      “It would be hard to say whether they or Sam are the happiest,” said Mr. Ledwell to the young woman behind the counter, as he took the paper bag and left the store.

      “Or the generous man who takes the trouble to give so much pleasure to others,” added the young woman to herself, as she glanced at his kind face.

      “Here, little girl,” said Mr. Ledwell, handing the paper bag to Maysie. “Now what will you do with all these good things?”

      “We’ll divide them between ourselves,” replied Maysie, promptly.

      “And the dog,” said the boy. “He must have his share, because he’s seen them same as we have.”

      “Yes, Johnny, of course the dog,” assented Maysie.

      “And Mother,” said the older sister.

      “Of course, Mother,” agreed Maysie. “Come on!” and off started Maysie, firmly grasping her bag of cakes.

      “Why, Maysie, you forgot to thank the gentleman,” said the elder sister.

      “Her face has thanked me already,” said Mr. Ledwell.

      Maysie, however, thus reminded of her manners, turned and said,—

      “Oh, thank you, sir, so much.”

      Instantly Maysie was off, followed by her brother and sister.

      “Grandpapa,” said Sam, as Mr. Ledwell took his seat in the sleigh, “I think you are the very best grandpapa in town.”