There was a door there, but it was closed, and propped
firmly up by a plank that I could not move, scratch as hard as I liked.
I was determined to get in, so I jumped against the door, and tore and
bit at the plank, till Miss Laura came to help me.
"You won't find anything but rats in that ramshackle old place,
Beautiful Joe," she said, as she pulled the plank away; "and as you
don't hurt them, I don't see what you want to get in for. However, you
are a sensible dog, and usually have a reason for having your own way,
so I am going to let you have it."
The plank fell down as she spoke, and she pulled open the rough door and
looked in. There was no window inside, only the light that streamed
through the door, so that for an instant she could see nothing. "Is any
one here?" she asked, in her clear, sweet voice. There was no answer,
except a low, moaning sound. "Why, some poor creature is in trouble,
Joe," said Miss Laura, cheerfully. "Let us see what it is," and she
stepped inside.
I shall never forget seeing my dear Miss Laura going into that wet and
filthy log house, holding up her white dress in her hands, her face a
picture of pain and horror.
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