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 great commotion in the front yard; and on going to the door, I found one of my neighbors, Mrs. Maloney by name, gesturing wildly with the poker, while my small dog was standing at a respectful distance, barking.

"The little haythen," said Mrs. Maloney, as soon as she saw me, "he stole me beefsteak, grabbed the entire lot from the oven when me back was turned."

"Where is it now?" I asked.

"The little baste has hid it, and I can't find it at all, at all."

Master Frisky stood with drooping head and tail, looking every inch a culprit. "Bad dog," I said in my sternest tones. He at once lay down upon the ground, and turning upon his back held up his front paws in such a beseeching manner, that I laughed in spite of myself, at which he immediately got up and began crawling toward me in a humble and sorrowful attitude.

"It ain't the first time that the little scamp has been thaving. It was only yisterday that he stole a piece of mince-pie out of me oven, took it out so slick that I thought it was me bye, Patsy, and a good slap I gave him; and I never would have known to this day, had I not seen the crumbs on his sassy little mug, and himself a-lying behint the stove a-making belave slape," said Mrs. Maloney. I paid for the meat, and promised to keep a sharp eye on my naughty dog.