Trixie

Once upon a time there was a little terrier dog named Trixie. She was almost all white, with only a few black and brown spots. Trixie was a very stylish looking little terrier dog, with a brass-studded collar and bobbed tail. She was a city dog, having lived in the city all her life. She stayed in the house most of the time. Sometimes she liked to sit on the front steps and watch the street cars go clanging past, the automobiles go whizzing past, and the people go walking past. On and on they came, and on and on they went; a steady stream all day long and far into the night. Trixie wondered where they all came from and where they all went.

That is, Trixie had lived in the city all her life, seven years, until one day when the people with whom she lived took her and a whole pile of suitcases in the car with them. After they had traveled for miles and miles and miles, they came to a square farm-house that had been white. Trixie soon liked her new home pretty well for there were three little girls to play with her, several kittens for her to tease, and oh, so many little white chickens for her to chase. There were rabbits, too, rabbits every where. Trixie learned that she could chase all the rabbits she cared to chase, but she must not chase the little chickens. She could not run after a rabbit very long though, for the grass was so tall and she was so short that she could not see which way the rabbit had gone.

In the pasture was a large sand rock which had been hollowed out by the weather. Trixie liked to chase rabbits about this rock, and when she stood on top of it, she could see quite far.

One day Trixie was standing on this rock when she saw something white disappear around one corner. She jumped to the ground and started around the other way to meet what she thought was a cotton-tail rabbit. But it was not a cotton-tail rabbit, it was a skunk! Trixie stopped short, she hardly knew whether she wanted to chase that kind of an animal or not. But it started to run back around the rock, so Trixie started after it. Around and around they went.

Trixie thought to herself: “You get way from here, whatever you are. I do not want you about my rock.”

And the skunk thought to himself: “How does that dog happen to be here? I did not know there was a dog on the place.”

Pretty soon, when Trixie was on the other side of the rock and could not see him, Mr. Skunk ran down the hill towards the bridge. When Trixie saw that she was alone on her rock once more, she had gotten the best of Mr. Skunk.

But Trixie had the worst of the argument, for she was not allowed to go in the house day or night for a week.