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 him. He was too big a dog to merely grow; he must find what was at the other end of his basket, and see, if he could, what was outside. So he would waddle up and down, smelling at all the corners, and sometimes making funny grunts and whines, which he thought were very fierce growls and barks. When he was tired of this he would roll and tumble about, biting with his toothless gums at the hay, or tearing the blanket that had been put in the basket to make it comfortable for him.

One day he stood upon his hind legs and reached up as far as he could with his fore paws, and to his great joy he got them over the top of the basket. Then he dug his toes into the sides of the basket, and tumbled head first upon the floor.

His nose got a hard bump in the fall, but he was out of that hateful basket, so he did not care; and soon he was having a fine time hopping around the shed, and smelling and lapping everything in sight. But this fun was of short duration; for suddenly there was a frightful spitting, and before he knew it Thomas, the old cat, was upon him, spitting in his face, and sticking such sharp needles into him that he yelped and yelped, and was too frightened to try to run. He just got as far into a corner as he could. The poor little puppy would have been badly clawed had not some one happened along and driven off hateful Thomas, and put him back into his basket.