Generally Tode would have responded to the mute
appeal, but now he felt so miserable himself, that he longed to make
somebody or something else miserable too, so instead of a pat, he gave
the dog a kick that sent it limping off with a yelp of pain and
remonstrance. He had made another creature as miserable as himself,
but somehow it didn't seem to lessen his own wretchedness. Indeed, he
couldn't help feeling that he had done a mean, cowardly thing, and
Tode never liked to feel himself a coward. He looked after the dog.
It had crawled into a corner and was licking the injured paw. Tode
walked toward the poor creature that looked at him suspiciously, yet
with a faint little wag of its tail, as showing its readiness to
forgive and forget, while at the same time ready to run if more abuse
threatened.
Tode stooped and called, "Come here, sir!" and, after a moment's
hesitation, the dog crept slowly toward him with a low whine, still
keeping his bright eyes fastened on the boy's.
"Poor old fellow," Tode said, gently, patting the dog's rough
head. "Is it hurt? Let me see." He felt of the leg, the dog standing
quietly beside him.
"'Tain't broken. It'll be all right pretty soon. What's your name?"
Tode said, and the dog rubbed his head against the boy's knee and
tried to say with his eloquent eyes what his dumb lips could not
utter.
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