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not used to friendly looks. He is used to quite the other kind. Bowser came out of the old sugar house where he had spent the night and whined softly as he looked up at Blacky, and as he whined he wagged his tail ever so

e had chased Blacky out of Farmer Brown's corn-field early in the spring but that is all he ever had had to do with him. Now, however, lonesome and lost as he was, the sound of a familiar voice made him tingle all over with a friendly feeling. So he whined softly and wagged his

badly lost. My goodness, how lame he is! I wonder what's happened to him. Serves him right for hunting other people, but I'm sorry for him just the same. What a helpless creature a lost dog is, anyway. I suppose if he doesn't find a house pretty soon he wi