Until he got well he was separated from us. Miss Laura kept him up in
the loft with the rabbits, where we could not go; and the boys ran him
around the garden for exercise. She tried all kind of cures for him, and
I heard her say that though it was a skin disease, his blood must be
purified. She gave him some of the pills that she made out of sulphur
and butter for Jim, and Billy, and me, to keep our coats silky and
smooth. When they didn't cure him, she gave him a few drops of arsenic
every day, and washed the sore, and, indeed his whole body, with tobacco
water or carbolic soap. It was the tobacco water that cured him.
Miss Laura always put on gloves when she went near him, and used a brush
to wash him, for if a person takes mange from a dog, they may lose their
hair and their eyelashes. But if they are careful, no harm comes from
nursing a mangy dog, and I have never known of any one taking the
disease.
After a time, Dandy's sore healed, and he was set free. He was right
glad, he said, for he had got heartily sick of the rabbits. He used to
bark at them and make them angry, and they would run around the loft,
stamping their hind feet at him, in the funny way that rabbits do.
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