I suppose a puppy must live in much such a strange and wonderful world as children do. Certainly Master Frisky's world was full of wonders; many of them he inquired into, and quite frequently to his sorrow.
But I must first tell you about naming him; for a long time we could not find a name that fitted him. All of the ordinary dog names that we tried were either too large, too small, or too dignified for him. So for a long time he was Jack one day, and Ned the next, and still something else the third, until at last he got so that he would answer to almost any name. "This will never do," I said; "we must have a name for him at once."
The next morning I was sitting in my study, not reading, but watching the pranks of my puppy who was chasing a grasshopper. "How he does frisk about!" said a friend, watching the fun over my shoulder. "Why not call him Frisky?" he asked; and the name stuck. Finally, when he got older and more dignified, a master was added when he was uncommonly clever.
