I think most pet lovers would be appalled today at the idea of a dog leaping into an icy river, twice, just to deliver Christmas gifts! But back then, it was the sign of a clever and faithful animal.Many years ago, in the State of New Hampshire, there lived two young girls named Dolly and Prue. They were great friends. They went to the same school, attended the same church and Sundayschool, and during the summer were almost constantly together.
But in the winter a whole week would sometimes go by without their seeing each other. They lived on the banks of the same river, but on opposite sides of it. And during that season of the year the river was at times swollen very high at places where in summer the little girls could often cross barefoot by jumping from one stone to another.
Dolly and Prue used to think it great sport to cross it in this way; in fact, they did not mind if there was considerable water in the river, for that only made it more exciting. In winter when the river was frozen solid they could walk across it on the ice, and those were happy times for these two little friends. But the current at that point was very strong, and it was usually after Christmas before the children were allowed to venture upon it.
Now, on this Christmas that I am going to tell you about, Prue had made Dolly a pretty white apron for a Christmas present. Her mother had cut it out, but Prue had done every stitch of the sewing herself, and her mother assured her that she had done it very neatly. There had been a great deal of rain all through the fall, and Roaring River was swollen very high, so that there seemed no way of getting the gift to her friend except by the road, a distance of more than three miles.
"Why don't you let Duke take it across?" suggested Prue's brother Ralph. "He enjoys nothing better than a swim in the river, and he likes to carry things, you know."
At first Ralph's proposition was laughed at by both Prue and her mother. The idea of letting a dog swim across that leaping, dancing water with an apron in his mouth!—for usually that was Duke's way of carrying packages.
"I don't believe I want to send Dolly such a wet Christmas present as that would be," Prue rejoined, with a toss of her head.
But when her brother produced some rubber cloth that had been used on a camping expedition and offered to cut off a small piece for Prue's benefit, she decided that boys were sometimes wiser than girls, and joyfully accepted his aid.
On Christmas morning the apron was carefully wrapped in the oil-cloth, with a string tied tightly around it, and this was fastened to Duke's collar and the dog led to the bank of the river, which was leaping in little waves instead of lying placid and serene as on summer days. He enjoyed a swim, however, even if he did have to struggle against odds for it. So when Prue led him by his collar with the words: "In, old boy! carry my Christmas present to Dolly!" with one straining wrench he freed himself and leaped bravely into the turbulent water.
Prue watched him until he reached the other shore; saw him shake the water from his tawny sides and then dash up the bank. Then she wandered slowly along the shore, waiting to welcome him on his return trip.
Half an hour passed before a sharp bark from across the river announced that Duke was on his homeward way. Dolly was with him and waved her handkerchief at her little friend, and Prue waved hers back, while Duke plunged into the water again and was soon dancing around his little mistress, shaking the water from his body until Prue laughingly declared that she might about as well have swam across herself, she was so wet.
But Duke was uneasy, and fawned persistently around Prue until she discovered that he still had, tied to his collar, the bundle with which he had started.
"Why, Duke! what made you bring it back again?" she cried, in a tone of vexation.
"Open it! open it!" the dog's impatient tail seemed to be insisting as it wildly lashed the air.
Eager-eyed, he watched his little mistress as she untied the string. And when out from the protecting folds of the oil-cloth covering there fell a pretty neck-chain made of beads and a pair of warm mittens, gifts from Dolly and her mother for Prue herself, Duke barked joyously, which was his dog way of saying:
"I hope you see now that I am a dog that can be trusted."
Prue, fair, but no longer young, still fondly cherishes the necklace that Duke brought to her on that Christmas morning so long ago. The mittens were worn out during the cold winter that followed.
But there is another little Prue who once in a while is allowed to wear the precious chain around her own neck, and who often wishes that she had a dog as brave and faithful as her grandmother's dog Duke.
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