Evening Star Newspaper, July 14, 1935, Page 80

Magazine Section The little Scotty saw E WAS a funny, solemn little chap, coal-black except for a bit of shell- pink color on the inside of his ears. There was an inquisitive gleam in his eye when he looked straight at you and, because of his size, his expression of serious- ness seemed absurdly comical. He sat apart from the group of frolicking, rolling puppies, in the far end of the dog shop window. Passers-by who stopped to look in the window seldom glanced at him. They pointed to one or another of the more active puppies, exclaimed “How cute!”’ and hurried on their way. If they did pause, they usually acknowl- edged the recluse in the corner with a casual. “That one looks quiet; now doesn't he? I like them peppy." This was just as well as far as the little Scotch terrier was concerned. He was like his clan —slow to make friends and not gregarious. Mostly, the other pups ignored him; some felt admiration, even fear. and came over hesitantly to pay their respects. A frisky Peke scuffled close and gave him a slight push to prove she was willing to play. but the terrier was unresponsive. He was lost in his dog thoughts. Surelv, he told himself again and again July 14, 1935 by DIANA THORNE With illu.ctmtioiu by the Author her just as she saw him, and both hearts leaped high a young heart bears heavily; he wanted to belong to some one, and until he did, nothing else mattered. Well, there was nothing to do but wait and hope. So he sat stoically in his corner, confident but watchful. No one came. until the little girl, Louise. stopped at the window. Her gaze wandered from the playful puppies to him: She rapped on the glass. Why didn't he play? Was he ill> Or shy? Or lonely. perhaps. as she often was? Louise went into the shop. **‘May I,” she asked the proprietor, ‘‘see that puppy who is sitting off by himself?" At last he reached the comforting shoe of his divirfity observing the parade of faces that he saw through the window pane, surely among so many there was one human whose personal odor was pieasing to a pup, who was looking for all the affection and loyalty that was pent up in him. True, he was scarcely noticed, because he refused to cut up foolishly with his window-mates; this he could not bring him- self todo. His was the dignity of sorrow, which In a few minutes she held him in her arms, gently, tenderly. He sniffed her. He smelled her cheek, her hair, her hands. All the while she stroked him and spoke softly. Suddenly the terrier made the one impor- tant decision of his life: Here was She — the mistress with whom he was destined to spend the rest of his days. He wanted to give her then and there all the feeling that lived in his Copyright, 1935, United Newspapers Magazine Corporation hurt. She listened to the whimperings of the puppy and tried to decide what to do. Then a sense of pride came to her rescue. She left the shop hastily, without a backward glance. She walked fast, but t he puppy's warm breath and trusting eyes seemed to follow and re- proach her. She drew in her breath sharply and started to run. Later, when Louise returned to the shop, the pup was not there. The man said he had been sold. She came back several times to stare at what was to her an empty window. Jock sat in the corner of the window, watching her leave the shop. He could not understand why he had been thrown back into lonely exile. Anyway, he forgave her. There was some mistake; it would right itself in time. He waited, as he had done before. Soon he was dragged out again and dis- played, this time to a woman, distant and strange, full of scents that were not human. Her attitude was impersonal. She ordered the man to parade him up and down the shop while she surveyed him. “Yes," she finally said, “I'll take him." Jock thought that he would do a little investigating before he went to bed small body; he wanted the privilege of wor- shipping her without reserve. “His name is Jock," the man told Louise. A name which sounded fitting and proper for a young Scotch ter- rier. He also told her that Jock was well- bred, that he had a *‘fine head'' and *‘good legs," that he was, in short, all that could be expected of a good dog. He showed her the pedigree, and then he told her the price. The pup cost forty dollars. The sum stunned Louise. Forty dollars. Forty dollars! In her savings bank at home, into which she had been putting pennies for years, there was only thirty-one dollars. She clutched Jock tightly and tried to think, but she couldn't concoct a single scheme for raising money. She might consult her parents, but they probably wouldn't even approve of a dog. Certainly her mother, whose whole soul seemed wrapped in orderliness and thrift, would not permit her to squander her savings on a puppy. The man said, “‘Well?"’ “I'm afraid I can’t buy the dog just yet,” Louise stammered. *‘Could you — would you keep him in reserve for me?" Without another word, the man took the puppy from her, tossed him back into the group on display, and turned away. Louise stood for a moment, puzzled and She ordered her chauffeur to take Jock to the car. Jock soon found himself in a big unfriendly house. He was looked at critically by several persons and much discussed. After a minor catastrophe on therug — a catastrophe which, he felt, might have been avoided had he been less nervous and worried, he was ordered to the scullery to the care of the maids. He spent a miserable day and might. With morning a boy came to fetch him. There was nothing gentle about this boy; although he was little, nothing warm or pleasant in his bright black eyes. He lifted Jock crudely and carried him upstairs; then he showed him a stick, which he threw across the room. Jock felt vaguely what was expected of him, but he was in no playful mood. He just sat on his tail. The boy gave him aslight kick, meant as encouragement ; when Jock failed to stir, the irritated boy made to grab him. It was in that unhappy instant, feeling nervous beyond endurance, that Jock nipped the boy in the leg. And then he was frightened, for the boy gave a wild howl. Jock retreated down the stairs, to take up his brooding under the scullery table. The bite was not serious. The boy suffered no damage, except perhaps to his conceit; but Jock was promptly returned to the dog shop. ) Again time meant only one thing: watching for Her. He scanned every face that passed, but she did not come. His appetite left him; his dour- ness increased. No one showed any interest in him. So he just sat in his corner — and waited. (Continued on page 15)