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Saunders, Marshall, 1861-1947

"Beautiful Joe An Autobiography of a Dog"

But I waked up at the slightest noise. Once Miss
Laura turned in bed, and another time Miss Bessie laughed in her sleep,
and again, there were queer crackling noises in the frosty limbs of the
trees outside, that made me start up quickly out of my sleep.
There was a big clock in the hall, and every time it struck I waked up.
Once, just after it had struck some hour, I jumped up out of a sound
nap. I had been dreaming about my early home. Jenkins was after me with
a whip, and my limbs were quivering and trembling as if I had been
trying to get away from him.
I sprang up and shook myself. Then I took a turn around the room. The
two girls were breathing gently; I could scarcely hear them. I walked to
the door and looked out into the hall. There was a dim light burning
there. The door of the nurse's room stood open. I went quietly to it and
looked in. She was breathing heavily and muttering in her sleep.
I went back to my rug and tried to go to sleep, but I could not. Such an
uneasy feeling was upon me that I had to keep walking about. I went out
into the hall again and stood at the head of the staircase. I thought I
would take a walk through the lower hall, and then go to bed again.


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