eneral no doubt would be flattered if he
could know."

"He's an awfully pretty pup and will make a great big dog when he's
grown up. His feet are dreadfully big, but Mr. Carson says he will need
them some day, and all big dogs have big feet when they are little.
Carrie wanted to name him Ponto, but her father thought General sounded
more dignified for such a big dog. Ponto is a pretty name, though, and
if I had a pup all of my own I'd call him-- Say, Tom, do you suppose Dad
would let me have a dog for my very own self? It's nice to own part of
one, but think how much better it would be if I had a whole one. Then
Carrie wouldn't have to share hers, and I really think she would rather
own all of General Grant herself. If I asked Dad, do you suppose he
would say yes?"

"I'm sure I don't know, Puss, but I am afraid not. We had a pup once
when I was small, and it chewed up everything it could get hold of. I
had a little suit of black velvet--I remember it was the first I ever
had with pockets in it--and one day the pup got hold of it and tore it
all to pieces. Dad gave him away at last because he did so much damage."

"What was its name?"

"Pinto."

"Why, isn't that funny--almost the name Carrie wanted! If I had a dog,
Tom, I should name him Pinto Ponto Poco Pronto. Wouldn't that be grand?
I never heard anything called that, and it has such a pretty jingle
about it when you say them all together. It's a--what do you call
it?--'literation? It means where a whole string of words begin with the
same letter. Don't you think that would make a splendid name for a dog?"

"Capital," answered loyal Tom, and Tabitha again took up the study of
her geography lesson, for while she had been talking, Mr. Carson had
opened the door of the big house and carried General Grant, box and all,
inside.

Tom was not the only one who had heard Tabitha's raptures over the new
possession, however. Sitting by the open window behind his newspaper,
Mr. Catt had caught every word of the conversation, unknown to his small
daughter, who did not realize his close proximity while she was
unburdening her heart to the big brother; and he smiled derisively at
the narrative; so when the child found courage to ask him for a pet dog
he answered curtly, "No, Miss Tabitha, we don't want any pups around
here. Dogs and cats fight, you know."

Without another word, the small supplicant went mournfully away to gaze
with longing eyes at the joint possession and