When Ann grew up she was given to Ruth as a birthday present; or to be quite truthful, she gave herself, for she was so fond of Ruth that she followed her about everywhere, and would stay with no one else.
She was a very sedate and serious animal; she might almost have been an old lady dog. You would have thought by the look of her she was wrapped in deep thought and that if only she could have spoken it would have been about very clever things.
She looked so wise and grave.
Ruth would have it she was making up poetry. The fact was Ruth was making up poetry herself, and when we are thinking hard of any subject we are inclined to imagine other people are, too. Just now Ruth was busy making verses and rhymes and thought Ann must be doing the same.
Ruth was rather shy over her poetry; she hadn’t told any one about it, she was too afraid they might laugh at her. And yet she badly wanted to know what they would think of it.
One day she sat Ann up in a chair at a table with pen and ink and paper in front of her. She looked so wise and grave that you could quite well imagine her a poet. And when Ruth called us in to look at her, there sure enough were some verses written.
“Look what Ann has made up,” cried Ruth. “I told you she was thinking of poetry.”
“How wonderful!” we said, for we saw whose writing it was. “Clever Ann! who will read it out?”
“I think Ann would like me to,” replied Ruth, who was glad to get this chance to read her own verses, “the poem is supposed to be about Ann’s young days when she and Timette were puppies.”
“How very interesting,” we remarked.
“Now I’ll begin,” said Ruth, with rather a red face, “it is supposed to be Timette speaking.”
“But why Timette?” we asked. “Why isn’t it Ann herself speaking?”
“Because she is a poet,” Ruth explained, “and poets always have to pretend to be some one else.”
Then she read these verses:—
“Two little Airedale pups are we,
Shaggy of coat and of gender ‘she.’
“Here you see us with papa,
They sent away our dear mamma.
“All the happy livelong day
We eat and sleep and laze and play.
“Except when only one bone’s there
And Sis takes care that I shan’t share.
“What a pity you should be
Such a greedy little she!
“This they say is not quite right,
But who can keep still in the midst of a fight?
“We’re good dogs now and once more friends,
And so my doggy story ends.”
The Spider in the Web.