'You're always
fancying you hear noises. I believe that's all you women come to bed
for--to sit up and listen for burglars.' Just to satisfy her, however,
he pulled on his trousers and socks, and went down.
"Well, sure enough, my mother was right, this time. There _was_ a
burglar in the house. The pantry window stood open, and a light was
shining in the kitchen. My father crept softly forward, and peeped
through the partly open door. There sat the burglar, eating cold beef
and pickles, and there, beside him, on the floor, gazing up into his face
with a blood-curdling smile of affection, sat that idiot of a dog,
wagging his tail.
"My father was so taken aback that he forgot to keep silent.
"'Well, I'm--,' and he used a word that I should not care to repeat to
you fellows.
"The burglar, hearing him, made a dash, and got clear off by the window;
and the dog seemed vexed with my father for having driven him away.
"Next morning we took the dog back to the trainer from whom we had bought
it.
"'What do you think I wanted this dog for?' asked my father, trying to
speak calmly.
"'Well,' replied the trainer, 'you said you wanted a good house dog.'
"'Exactly so,' answered the dad. 'I didn't ask for a burglar's
companion, did I? I didn't say I wanted a dog who'd chum on with a
burglar the first time he ever came to the house, and sit with him while
he had supper, in case he might feel lonesome, did I?' And my father
recounted the incidents of the previous night.
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