Seven O'Clock Stories - Part 27
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Part 27

That Prowler had no right at all to tell him to get off the road nor to bite him!

And so, though he was only a yellow dog and small and weak, Wienerwurst barked bravely and tried his best to fight off the big dog.

It wasn't a very happy chorus of growls and barks and squeals. It sounded something like this:

"_Gurrrrr--gurrr-uh--ow--ow--gurr--gurr--ow--wuf--ar--gurr--ow--wow--uh- wuf--x.x.x--x_!!!"

Jehosophat pulled on the reins.

"We must stop that," said he. "Hepzebiah you sit here."

Out he jumped, but his brother was ahead of him, for Marmaduke loved Wienerwurst even more than they did.

At the big dog's collar they pulled, and they grabbed tight hold of his chain, trying to drag him away so that he wouldn't hurt little Wienerwurst.

But he was very strong, that wicked bad dog. They couldn't budge him at all.

But just then they heard the sound of wheels. They were glad.

Help was coming at last!

A wagon drove up. It was the country postman, who delivered the mail to the farms, in a wagon.

"Whoa!" the postman shouted and out he jumped with his whip!

He ran straight for the big dog, and out of the gate ran Jake Miller too.

I guess he felt ashamed of himself for keeping such a dog as Prowler. The two men grabbed the chain and whipped the big bad dog till he let go of Wienerwurst and ran back to his kennel.

Tenderly the two boys lifted their little friend into the cart, and drove home as fast as they could.

They forgot all about the pony and the fine new cart, just thinking of their poor hurt doggie.

Mother and the Toyman brought water in a basin, and the Toyman poured something from a bottle, which coloured the water all dark. With a little clean rag he washed out the cuts on Wienerwurst's face and the back of his neck.

Then out to the workshop he went and brought back a little can. He unscrewed the top and took out some of the salve inside. It was coloured just like peanut-b.u.t.ter and was soft and healing. On each cut he put a little of the salve, then wound the little doggie all up in nice soft bandages too. And Wienerwurst licked the Toyman's hand to show how thankful he was.

They made him a little bed, but he didn't stay in that long. The Toyman was such a good doctor that Wienerwurst felt better already. Still he didn't play very much that day.

Mother sent the Toyman over to the Cricket farm to ask Johnny's mother to let her boy stay for the night.

He did--for _three whole days_--and great fun they had with Little Geeup, and the red dogcart, and the little lame boy, giving Wienerwurst rides to make him all well.

And Father and the Toyman made Jake Miller chain up the wicked dog--very tight this time--with a chain that would never break.

And soon that bad dog died, which was a good thing too. n.o.body wasted many tears on him.

But little Wienerwurst got well and strong, and chased the pretty pink pigeons--in fun of course--just as fast as ever he did.

TWENTIETH NIGHT

THE LIONS OF THE NORTH WIND

By the fire sat the Toyman.

He must have been seeing things in the flames, for he kept looking, looking all the time.

He was all alone, for Father and Mother Green had gone to town to see a fine wedding. It was not often that they stayed out so late, but this was a grand event. And they knew the three happy children would be safe in the Toyman's care.

They were all in the next room. Jehosophat and Hepzebiah were sound asleep--but not Marmaduke. He was sitting up, a little bit of a fellow in a big bed.

Outside, old Giant Northwind roared and roared. Now he seemed to be running around and around the house, faster than any train. Now he stopped to knock at the door and bang at the window panes. Now he trampled on the roof, knocking off pieces of slate and a brick from the chimney, which fell, _crash_, through the gla.s.s cover of the little greenhouse.

Marmaduke did not like the sounds cruel Giant Northwind made. And it was very dark in the room. To tell the truth he was just a little bit frightened. But he didn't say anything at all. For the Toyman had told him always to be "game." That was a funny word, but Marmaduke knew what it meant. A brave little boy must not cry even if he _is_ afraid.

Still the Giant Northwind kept running round and round the house with great leaps. And the windows creaked, and the trees thumped the house with their branches.

Suppose the Giant should break in and carry him 'way, 'way off!

The door of the next room was open. Through it he could see the bright fire. Higher and higher leaped the flames, as if they wanted to jump up the chimney and join the Northwind in his mad race.

Very comfy and bright looked the fire. Very funny were the shadows on the wall, dancing and bowing to each other and jumping up and down like Jacks-in-the-Box.

One shadow was like a man's, as tall as the ceiling.

Had Giant Northwind gotten in the house at last!

Marmaduke shivered and crept out of bed--and hurried into the next room.

He kept as far away from that giant shadow as he could. But he never cried out. He was very brave.

On and on against the wall he tiptoed towards the chair by the fire, where the Toyman sat, thinking his strange thoughts.

The Toyman felt a tug at his sleeve. He looked around. There stood Marmaduke, pointing at the shadow.

That shadow was so big and Marmaduke was so small.

"Don't let him get me!" the little boy cried.

The Toyman reached down and in a second Marmaduke was safe in his arms.

"There's n.o.body here but me," said the Toyman.

Loud the Giant Northwind howled and roared, while the flames leaped up the chimney.

"Look there!" cried Marmaduke. "There he is!!"