TAKING CARE OF PRINNIE
BY REBECCA DEMING MOORE
“Now, Nathalie, put on your hat and take a run out in this nice, bright sunshine,” said Mrs. Barnes, as her small daughter was preparing to curl herself up in a little knot over a book.
“Oh, Mother dear, please let me read instead!” pleaded Nathalie. “You know it 's no fun at all running about with just me. Mabel and Helen and Belle have all gone away for the summer, and I feel so ‘conspikerous’ going out all alone.”
Mrs. Barnes sighed. This was to be the hardest part of that stay-at-home summer which she and Mr. Barnes had agreed was necessary this year.
“Just go a little way to please Mother,” she continued. “Stay-in-the-house girls don’t get any rosy cheeks.”
So Nathalie with a pout put away the story-book, and, taking her hat, walked listlessly down the street. Soon, however, she quickened her pace. “I ’ll go down to Mr. McAllister’s,” she said to herself, “to see the puppies. It ’s been two whole weeks since I 've seen them. Perhaps, if Mr. McAllister is there, he ’ll let me go in and play with Prinnie.”
Now Mr. McAllister raised puppies to sell, and kept them in a big yard quite surrounded by a board fence. Nathalie had found a way of climbing this fence by sticking her little toes into a few convenient knot-holes. Once on top, she could watch all the dog families, and especially her favorites, some dear, silky, King Charles spaniels. The flower of this family she had christened Prinnie. He had the longest ears of all, and the pinkest tongue, and his soft brown eyes looked up to Nathalie’s and said so plainly, “Oh, how I would like to get up there, little girl, and make friends with you!” She knew that he was a King Charles, so she had named him, first, “Prince Charles”; but that seemed quite too dignified a name for such a frisky bit of a dog, so “Prince Charles” became “Prince Charlie,” and then “Prince” alone, and finally “Prinnie.”
A few minutes later found Nathalie safe on her perch on the fence, delightedly watching the three spaniels romping with their mother.
“Oh, my dear, dear little Prinnie!” she called. “Have n’t you missed your Nathalie the last two weeks? I ’ve been so busy getting all my friends ready to go to the country and sea-shore that I have n’t had time to come to see you. Now I 'm left all alone, and I have n’t any little brothers and sisters to play with as you have, Prinnie love. Oh, Prinnie, if I could only get down and squeeze you, I 'd feel so much better! Do you suppose Mr. McAllister would mind very much if I just gave you one pat on your nice, flat little head?”
“Mind, lassie; mind,” said a good-natured voice; ‘“nothing would give Sandy McAllister more pleasure. Come, give me your wee hands, and I ’ll jump you down.”
Then when Prinnie allowed himself to be petted and cuddled on Nathalie’s arm, Mr. McAllister went on: “My, how you ’re loving the wee doggie! You ought to be having one of your own. You 're Mr. Barnes’s lassie, are n’t you? I mind often seeing you on the top of that fence.”
Nathalie replied that she was afraid her papa could n’t buy her a dog this summer; she was n't even having any new dresses.
“I was n’t speaking of buying a dog,’ Mr. McAllister continued. “But how would you like to be taking care of one for me? There s a fine good mon who ’s spoke’ for this wee doggie you call Prinnie, but he does n't want him till fall. Now, if your mama is willing, I ’ll just let you take him till Mr. Sampson sends for him, providing you promise to take care of him just as I tell you.”
“To keep him till fall!” exclaimed Nathalie. “Oh, Mr. McAllister, do you really, really mean it? I think you ’re the very, very best man in the world, except Papa, of course.”
“Perhaps there ’s not monny thinkin’ the same,” chuckled Mr. McAllister; “but run along, lassie, and ask your mama, and if she ’s willing, you may come back for the wee doggie.”
Nathalie could almost have jumped the board fence, she was so cxcited, but Mr. McAllister set her down on the other side, and off she ran.
Mrs. Barnes at first looked a shade doubtful. A puppy in the house, even if he were the “most darlingest, sweetest, angelest puppy that ever was,” meant chewed-up shoes and torn papers; but soon her face lightened.
“On these conditions,” she said, “Prinnie may come to stay with us this summer. He must have long, long walks every day on the outskirts of the town, where there are open fields for him to romp in. He may stay in the house only nights and when it is stormy. You must also take full charge of his meals, and keep his long coat in good order. Back to Mr. McAllister he must go the first time you forget any of these rules.”
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