HOW PETER GOT A PLACE

New Zealand Tablet, 27 March 1913, Page 61

HOW PETER GOT A PLACE

' Mother, here's an advertisement that looks- as though it would just suit,' said Peter, coming in with his broom on his shoulder. He had been sweeping the pavement for Miss Patience Weeks, who, by way of compensation, allowed him to look at the advertising columns every morning. 'What is it, dear?' asked his mother, beginning to pour out the coffee at the little round table in the corner of the bright, clean kitchen. ' I'll read it to you,' said Peter. The advertisement ran as follows: ' Wanted: A good, smart boy, who is willing to run errands, and who is not afraid of work. At the Old Bookstore, corner of Fennari and Beech Streets.' ' Yes, that sounds well. But by the time you get there, Peter,' said his mother, ' I am afraid the place may be given to some one else. It is a good distance from here.' 'Well, I'll try it, anyhow,' replied the boy, hurrying with his breakfast. The meal over, he started for the store, and had gone about half-way, when he saw a boy on a bicycle, a few feet ahead of him, run into a dog and throw the animal over. The bicycle suffered an injury also; a tyre was punctured badly, making progress slow. Peter lingered a few moments to see if the dog was badly hurt. It was a pretty little fox terrier ; and, as he lifted it from the ground, it looked beseechingly into his face, with short yelps of pain. Peter glanced around, but saw no one to whom the dog seemed to belong. . The boy examined it, and found that one of its forepaws was injured. He did not know what to do. He could not bear to leave it in the street; and while he was considering, the little creature nestled down contentedly in his arms, occasionally uttering a groan, but on the whole appearing to feel rather comfortable. Peter was obliged to accelerate his pace, and soon came up to the other boy, now making but slow progress on his bicycle. 'Hello!' he called out, as Peter passed him. 'That's the dog that ran into me, isn't it?' ' That's the dog you ran over,' said Peter, and passed on. 'ls it yours?' shouted the boy. Peter shook his head. The boy turned down a side street, and Peter lost sight of him. But when he reached the old bookstore he found him seated, with three or four others, on a bench inside the door. A little man with blue spectacles was talking to them. Peter felt that he had but a slight chance among so many but joined the group, not forgetting to remove his cap, which none of the others had done. Before entering, Peter had taken the precaution of placing

the dog under a box which stood in the vestibule.? As he entered the old man was saying to the boy with the bicycle: ■ z' _ " _; - -1 'I guess you'll do. You have a bicycle, and you can run errands more quickly. You'll have to carry home books, you know. Come in the morning.' 'All right, sir!' replied the boy. ;■ V' ■.. The others stayed not upon the~- order of their goings but sidled out one by one, evidently disappointed. Peter was about to do likewise, when the old man suddenly turned and asked: .' v ' Was that a dog crying, boy? Did you hear it?' 'Yes, sir,' rejoined Peter. 'Where is it?'' ,"- ' ■ Just outside—under that box. . It was hurt, and ' ' , -"■ „' ■' .;. , ~, 'He! he!' laughed the successful one. You see, I was goin' along pretty fast, and my machine ran into the cur. This fellow he picked it up and carried it in his arms like a baby. I didn't know he was comin' here, though. He's a reg'lar cissy: boy y • that fellow is you can tell it by his pink cheeks and curly hair.' The bookseller growled and looked sharply over his spectacles at his new assistant. 'Your dog he inquired of Peter. 'No, sir,' was the reply. 'Yours?' he asked, turning to the other boy. 'No, sir-ee. I ain't got no use for dogs at any time. And. I'd like to smash that one, he made me puncture my tyre. There was a sharp stone, and—— ' 'You don't like dogs, eh? said the old man.. ' Most boys do like them.' ' Yes, I like 'em with tin cans tied to their tails. That's lots of fun. Well, I'll be along in the morning.' 'Wait a moment, boy!' said the old man. 'Perhaps I'd better consider this matter a little longer. I'm fond of dogs myself. I'd like to see the creature. Fetch him in.' . ii'. Peter hastened to the door, and returned with the dog in his arms. It held up a limp paw, moaned once or twice, blinked saucily, Peter thought, at the bookseller, and then hid its face against his coat sleeve, under the reproachful glance and admonitory finger of the old man, shaking slowly up and down, as he laid the other hand on the dog's back. Peter thought the situation a little strange,. while the old man said . 'So he's -not your dog?' 'No, sir.' 'Ever see him before?' Never.' ' What do you propose to do with him ?' ' He didn't seem to have any owner, so I thought I'd take him home to my mother. She's awfully good at curing things. I wondered if his leg was broken.' ' And when he got well ? What would you do then?' 'I guess I'd keep him.' Would that be honest?' 'I think it would/ said Peter. ' It would be better to hunt up his owner in the neighborhood where you found him. He's a pure fox terriera valuable little dog.' 'ls he answered Peter. ' I think he's mighty cute, but I didn't know he was valuable.' ' You might advertise for the owner/ suggested the old man. ' Oh, no! I don't think I ought to do that/ replied Peter at once. 'lf he is valuable, or if his owner wants him, he will do that himself.' ' You're not so slow/ remarked the old man, with a broad smile; and your position is well taken. I think I'll keep him myself he will stay with me,' he added. 'But,' began Peter, 'that wouldn't be . right either.' 'Yes, it would,' rejoined the old man, 'because he's my dog.' 'Your dog!' exclaimed Peter, clasping the animal a little more closely, while the other boy burst into a loud laugh.

‘You’re a pair of blokes!’ he cried impudently. The old man turned upon him. . ‘You may go!’ he said angrily. ‘And go at once, and don't come back! Do you hear?’ The boy slunk away. The old man again addressed himself to Peter. Pinkie!’ he called. And the dog, lifting its head from Peter's jacket, looked shamefacedly into his master’s eyes. Seeing a welcome there, he sprang- suddenly from Peter’s arms into those of the old bookseller. ‘ Now do you believe he belongs to me ?’ inquired the old man, laying his wrinkled cheek on the head of the little truant. ‘Do you like books, boy?’ he asked, after a moment. ‘ Very much, sir,’ replied Peter. ‘ There are plenty of. them here,’ said the man — ‘ second-hand,, principally; , but interesting most of them. I know you like dogs. I have two passions in life—books and dogs. I think we shall get on together. You may come to-morrow. I will pay you four dollars a week. The bicycle doesn’t cut much figure, when all is said. I guess I can rent one, if we need it, until I see how you do. • I'll nurse up Pinkie. His foot is not broken; he’ll be all right in a day or two. Come in the morning.’ ‘Thank you, sir!’ replied Peter. ‘l’ll be sure to come.’ ‘ You see,’ said the old bookseller, as he accompanied the boy to the door, ‘ I’m very fond of fox terriers especially. 'They’re the most intelligent animals you ever saw; affectionate, too, and very companionable; but they have the bad habit of running away for days at a time. I never saw one that didn’t. They always turn up again, though, unless they're run over and killed, as Pinkie might have been this morning; or stolen, as no doubt he will be some day, for he is always following customers. However, now that he will have a young companion, one that he likes besides for I can see he likes youperhaps he may be satisfied with those little jaunts without going so far afield, X really believe—what is your name, my boy?’ ‘ Peter, sir—Peter Smith,’ answered the boy. ‘ I really believe, Peter, that he gets lost; that he does not wilfully remain away. I have great hopes of him from this time forward, Peter. I feel almost certain he will stay at home, now that you are coming. What do you think ‘ I’ll do all I can to keep him here, and see that he doesn’t run too far away,’ said Peter. ‘ And I’m very much obliged for the place.’ ‘lt was’the dog that did it. Thank the dog,' replied the bookseller. ‘ I'll expect you at half-past seven in the morning. You will have to sweep out the shop and dust the books, and learn to wait on customers a little when lam absent. If you love books, as you say you do, you will soon learn your duties in that line. I’m sure we shall get on. And now I’ll have to put some witchhazel on Pinkie’s foot, before customers begin to make their appearance. Good-morn-ing, Petergood-morning!’ ‘Good-morning, [’.responded Peter blithely, as the heavy door swung behind him. And, thanking his good fortune, he hastened home to tell his mother the welcome news that he had not only found a place, a master, and a playmate, but that all three. were just as he would have chosen them, if it had been given him to choose.— Ave Maria.