CHAPTER IX.
THE I. I.’S.
“Come, Fuzzy, come!” said Bess, opening the front door an inch, and speaking in a tone of gentle persuasion.
But Fuzz only gazed fixedly at some distant point of the landscape, and refused to move.
“Come, good little Fuzz; come right in!” And Bess tried to express the idea that some pleasing secret lay hidden behind the door that she held open a crack. Slowly the dog turned the white of one eye towards his mistress; but otherwise he was deaf to her voice. Becoming impatient, she went out on the step.
“Come right here. Fuzz!” she said, very decidedly.
The little animal looked at her for a moment, wagged his brief tail as if to say, “Excuse me,” and then darted to the gate, where he stood barking furiously, occasionally turning his head
