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Saunders, Marshall, 1861-1947

"Beautiful Joe An Autobiography of a Dog"

"
She did not go near the dining-room door, but threw open the front one,
crying, "Policeman! Policeman! help, help, thieves, murder!"
Such a screaming as that old woman made! She was worse than I was. I
dashed by her, out through the hall door, and away down to the gate,
where I heard some one running. I gave a few loud yelps to call Jim, and
leaped the gate as the man before me had done.
There was something savage in me that night. I think it must have been
the smell of Jenkins. I felt as if I could tear him to pieces. I have
never felt so wicked since. I was hunting him, as he had hunted me and
my mother, and the thought gave me pleasure.
Old Jim soon caught up with me, and I gave him a push with my nose, to
let him know I was glad he had come. We rushed swiftly on, and at the
corner caught up with the miserable man who was running away from us.
I gave an angry growl, and jumping up, bit at his leg. He turned around,
and though it was not a very bright night, there was light enough for me
to see the ugly face of my old master.
He seemed so angry to think that Jim and I dared to snap at him. He
caught up a handful of stones, and with some bad words threw them at us.


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