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Saunders, Marshall, 1861-1947

"Beautiful Joe An Autobiography of a Dog"

I don't think I should have feared
it so much if I had known what it was.
"There's something the matter with Joe," said Miss Laura, when we got
into the lane. "What is it, dear old fellow?" She put down her little
hand, and I licked it, and wished so much that I could speak.
Sometimes I wish very much that I had the gift of speech, and then at
other times I see how little it would profit me, and how many foolish
things I should often say. And I don't believe human beings would love
animals as well, if they could speak.
When we reached the house, we got a joyful surprise. There was a trunk
standing on the veranda, and as soon as Mrs. Wood saw it, she gave a
little shriek: "My dear boy!"
Mr. Harry was there, sure enough, and stepped out through the open door.
He took his mother in his arms and kissed her, then he shook hands with
Miss Laura and Mr. Maxwell, who seemed to be an old friend of his. They
all sat down on the veranda and talked, and I lay at Miss Laura's feet
and looked at Mr. Harry. He was such a handsome young man, and had such
a noble face. He was older and graver looking than when I saw him last,
and he had a light, brown moustache that he did not have when he was in
Fairport.


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