Chapter I: AM a middle-aged gentleman who is blessed with only one child, a

little girl now nearly six years old. Her name is Fanny; and her cousin Gracie, who is about the same age, lives with us.

Both of these little girls are very fond of having me tell them stories; and I have often told them about a dog I once had. They liked this story so much, that they made me promise I would send it to "The Nursery," so that a great many little girls and boys might hear it also. This is the story:--

When I was a little boy, not more than eight
years old, my mother consented to my having a
dog which a friend offered to give me. He was a
little pup then, not more than five weeks old.
I fed him on milk for a while, and he grew very
fast. I named him Cæsar.

When he got to be six months old, he became
very mischievous. Things were constantly being
missed from the house. Handkerchiefs, slippers,
shoes, towels, aprons, and napkins disappeared;
and no one could tell what became of them. One
day Cæsar was seen going into the garden with a
slipper in his mouth; and I followed him to a
far-off corner where stood a large
currant-bush.

I looked under the bush, and saw Cæsar digging
a hole, into which he put the slipper, and then
covered it up with earth. Upon digging under
this bush, I found all the things that had been
missed.

A neighbor's dog, called "Dr. Wiseman," was
Cæsar's particular friend. One day we heard a
loud scratching at the front-door; and, when we
opened it, in walked Cæsar and Dr. Wiseman.
Cæsar took the Doctor by the ear, and led him
up to each of the family, just as if he were
introducing him, and then led him into the
garden, and treated him to a bone.

Although Cæsar did many naughty things, we all
loved him; for he was quite affectionate as
well as intelligent: but our neighbors
complained of him because he chased their
chickens, bit their pigs, and scared their
horses. A farmer who came to our house one day
with a load of potatoes took a great fancy to
him. He wanted him for a watch-dog on his farm,
which was only four miles from our house.

As he promised to treat him kindly, my mother
thought it was best to let him have the dog;
and I finally consented, although I believe I
cried a good deal about it.

So Cæsar was put into the farmer's wagon, much
against his will; and off he went into the
country. About three months afterwards, when
there was a foot of snow on the ground, there
came a great scratching at the front-door of
our house, early in the morning, before I was
up; and, when the servant opened the door, in
bounded Cæsar with a rope around his neck, and
a large chunk of wood fastened to the other end
of it.

He ran by the servant, and up the stairs, with
the piece of wood going bump, bump, all the
way, dashed into my room, jumped right up on my
bed, and began licking my face.

I was very glad to see my dog again. He staid
with us several days; and, when the farmer came
for him, he lay down on the floor, closed his
eyes, and pretended to be dead; but the farmer
took him back to the farm in his wagon.

About a year and a half after that, when I came
home for a vacation, we all went up to the
farm, hoping to see Cæsar; but we never saw him
again. The farmer had shot him, because he
killed the chickens, and chased the sheep, and
would not mind any thing that was said to him.
Thus you see, children, that Cæsar came to a
bad end, although he had every advantage of
good society in his early youth.

LANSINGBURGH, N.Y.