"Oh Fudge, if
we could only get home to mother!" she moaned. "Tilderee's so tired
and sleepy, and it will be dark night soon." At the thought she threw
herself on the ground and began to cry bitterly.
Fudge looked disconsolate. A second he stood irresolute and
distressed, but presently drew nearer, and, with unobtrusive sympathy,
licked away the salt tears that rolled down her chubby cheeks. Then he
roused himself, as if he comprehended that something must be done, and
ran to and fro, barking with all his might, and poking about with his
nose to the earth. At length he came upon a nook under a projecting
rock, which seemed to promise a slight shelter from the cold night air.
Perhaps it was the instinct of self-preservation which led him to
attract the attention of his helpless companion to it. Several times
he returned to her, looked beseechingly into her face, then ran back to
the rock.
"You want me to go in there, Fudge?" she faltered at last, noticing his
antics. "Well, I will. P'rhaps it'll be warmer. And I'm afraid
nobody'll come now till morning."
Dispirited, Tilderee dragged herself to the refuge he had found.
Pages:
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156