I wished I could go too.

There was a big room they called the drawing-room. It had soft rugs and big soft chairs and sofas, and there was almost always a fire in the fireplace. The other dogs often went in there and slept in front of the fire or on the furniture. I tried to do it once or twice too, but always someone came and drove me out just as I got settled, and James was so cross about it that I stopped going in there after a while. James was the man who worked about and did things with the food. They called him a butler.

Sometimes, in the afternoons, ladies and gentlemen came to the house to visit Tommy’s mother. They went in the drawing-room and laughed and talked, and Mary or James would carry in a tray with plates of cakes, and cups, and saucers and things. Fifine said it was afternoon tea, but I smelled cake, too.

Sometimes Mary came and called the other dogs and took them in there, but she never called me. Once I tried to go along, but she drove me back, and Prince Coco snarled at me. Often, when Mary took them in, I would hear the ladies cry, “What perfect little ducks of dogs!” Or, “What loves of little doggies!”

When the dogs came back again they were always prouder then ever. They would tell me how the different ladies had petted them and praised them, and had given them bits of cake,—only little bits, because the mistress said too much cake wasn’t good for little doggies. They would lick their lips and tell me how delicious the cake was, until it made my mouth water to hear about it.

Often after they had gone I would lie there and think, “If I could only get in there once, without Mary seeing me, I would soon show the people what a clever little dog I am. I would grin, and beg, and play dead dog. How surprised and pleased they would all be! And the mistress,—she would be pleased, too, and when she saw how smart everybody thought I was she’d be glad to have me there. If only someone would think of putting a piece of cake on my nose, then I could show them that trick, too—the trick where I throw the cake up in the air and catch it again—only of course nobody knew about that, so they wouldn’t think of trying it.”

I used to lie there in the nursery and dream about it while the other little dogs were downstairs having a good time.

One day all four of us dogs were up in Tommy’s sitting-room (Mary and the mistress called it the nursery, but Tommy called it the sitting-room), and two or three times we heard the front door open and shut and visitors talking.

“I wonder if they’ll send for us?” said Fifine lazily. “I just feel like a bit of cake this afternoon.”

She was lying stretched out in Tommy’s chair. I hated to see her there. That was my place.“I don’t know,” said Bijou. “But if they do, I hope Mary will brush my hair first. It looks rather rough today, and it’s always so glossy when it’s brushed.”

Just then Mary came to the door. “Come, Prince,” she said. “Come, Bijou and Fifine. The mistress wants you.”

The three little dogs jumped up and ran toward her, and I did, too. I thought maybe this time she would let me come along, but she just said, “Go back, Muffins! You can’t come. You’re not wanted”; and Prince Coco looked back and snarled, “I should think you would have learned by this time that you’re not a company dog.”

I didn’t say anything—just lay down again, but I thought, “I’ll show you in a little while whether I’m a company dog or not.” I’d made up my mind that I’d get into the drawing-room this time in spite of Mary.Tommy was away that afternoon. Sometimes he didn’t come home till dinner time. I think he went to visit other little boys.

I waited until Mary had had plenty of time to take the others to the drawing-room and leave them there, and then I got up and stole out into the entry and down the stairs. There was no one in the hall below, but I could hear the visitors talking and laughing beyond the curtains of the drawing-room door. I slipped between the curtain and the side of the doorway, and then I was in the room.

It was full of people talking and laughing, and at first no one noticed me. The mistress was sitting at a table pouring something into a cup. One lady was sitting near her with Fifine in her lap, and Prince Coco and Bijou were waiting in front of the table for cake. A gentleman was standing near the table with a cup in his hand. He was the first one to notice me.“There’s another little dog,” he said. “Is this your dog, too, Mrs. Stanford?”

Then the mistress saw me. She gave a cry. “Oh, it’s that miserable little stray,” she said. “He came here at the time of the blizzard, and howled at the door. Tommy found him and brought him in, and begged to keep him for awhile. I don’t know how the dog managed to steal in here. Ring the bell, please, for James to take him away.”

When she said that I knew I’d have to hurry if I wanted the people to see my tricks, so first I rolled over and played “dead dog,” and then I sat up and grinned and waved my paws, and then I barked.

“My word! He’s a clever little chap,” said the gentleman, and he tossed me a bit of cake.

It fell on the floor beside me, and quick as a flash Bijou jumped to get it. But I was quicker than he was. I growled and shoved him aside and grabbed it up and swallowed it.