“Tavia, get up! It’s seven o’clock, and I must go up to the stables!” So Dorothy called the next morning, but whether Tavia was too much awake to do anything so “foolish” as to get up, and interview Jake, or whether she was still sleeping, Dorothy took no further time to inquire, for if she did so her own time would go with the effort. Instead, she dressed hastily, and, slipping a coat on, for the morning was heavy with dew, she quietly went up the gravel path toward the stable. There was a wind and a turn in the road, and from this spot, where big white stone marked “danger” for auto or carriage, the public road opened in a short, sharp “V.” On either side was heavy shrubbery, the pride of the gardener, and the pleasure of the girls who loved late or early blossoms, for the hedge was composed of such shrubs as sent forth both. The soft, lavender, feather-blossom was plentiful now, and as Dorothy passed along she She listened! It could not be a cat. There was Jake waiting at the stable door. What should she say to him? She did not hurry off, for that cry certainly came from the bush. Carefully she pushed back the brambles. Then she called softly, as to some animal. The answer came. It was a faint bark! A dog surely. She glanced up to the stable, to see if Jake was still there so that she might call him; but he had gone. Then she whistled the call for a dog, but could see nothing but a movement of the briars. “He must be in there,” she told herself, “and I will have to crawl in and get him. Something must have him fast.” Tucking her skirts about her as best she could, she raised bush after bush, until she was well within the hedge. Then she could see where the sound came from. It was under a hawthorn! She raised that, and there beheld little Ravelings! “Oh, you poor little thing!” she said aloud. “How ever did you get there?” In spite of her anxiety that the precious animal might be injured, it must be admitted that Dorothy was glad to see him. “Come, Ravelings,” she coaxed, and the white fuzzy head moved but the legs refused to do so. “Not a trap, I hope,” she murmured. One more perilous forward motion, for at every move she was being scratched and torn with the briars, then she had her hand on Ravelings. His long shaggy fur was completely wound up in a wiry bramble, and the little creature could no more move than if he had been in a trap. My, how dirty and bedraggled he was! However could he have gotten back to Glenwood? “Wait,” she said as if he might understand, “I’ll get you out without hurting you.” Making her way clear of the shrubs, through the path she had made crawling in, Dorothy ran back to the hall, and up the outside stairs to her room. “Tavia! Quick!” she called. “Give me the scissors!” “Mercy sakes! What’s this? Suicide!” exclaimed the lazy one, not yet dressing. “Wait. I’ll get you something easier.” Too impatient to talk with her, Dorothy got to her own work basket and procured the scissors. Then back she went to the damp nest where Ravelings waited. “It’s a shame to cut your pretty fur so,” she It took some time to get him entirely free, but as Dorothy worked the grateful animal licked her hand and tried to “kiss” her, so that she felt quite as happy to release him as he must have been to be free. At last she had him in her arms. She must not let him run, and it was not easy to hold him, and get out herself. “There,” she exclaimed, when on the path, “now we will go to Jake.” She could scarcely hold him when he saw the barn. And what a big, muddy blue bow of ribbon was around his neck! Wait until she told the girls! They would be afraid to go up to the stable to make certain, and they would surely not believe her. Dorothy was flushed with pleasure and excitement. “Jake!” she called at the barn door. The man came out. “Here he is! Here is Ravelings!” “Where on earth——” But the dog had leaped from her, and was “kissing” Jake so eagerly that he could not say another word. |