are you scared of thunder storms? i am, too. well, not exactly scared, maybe, but i—i don’t like them very well. i don’t mind the lightning so much, but the thunder is very noisy and it affects my nerves. i am quite a nervous dog. all highly-bred dogs are nervous, you know. and when you can trace your family back for dozens of years, the way i can, you have every right to dislike thunder. perhaps you didn’t know i had such a long pedigree? mother told us all about it once. we are descended from hansel von konigsberg, who was the champion of all germany for many years and quite the finest dachshund that ever lived. he won all sorts of prizes wherever he was shown and was a very fine, proud dog. every one in germany knows about hansel von konigsberg. mother says it is a fine thing to be descended from such a dog and that i should always try to live up to it. well, that isn’t telling about the time i got under the bed in the guest-room when there was a thunder storm, is it?
there were visitors at the house, and one was an elderly lady who wore a black silk dress and had her eye-glasses on a little stick. when she saw us puppies she held the glasses up to her eyes and looked at us just as though we were something quite strange. “dear me,” she said, “what ugly little things. what are they?” the master laughed and told her we were dachshund puppies. “you mean they’re dogs?” she asked. “why, they look like alligators! don’t let them come near me, please. i never could stand dogs, anyway, and these are quite—quite disgusting!”
neither freya or i knew then what an alligator was, but we didn’t like the sound of it. besides, she had said we were ugly and disgusting. so i looked at freya and freya looked at me and we made a rush for the old lady who didn’t like dogs and jumped all over her. of course we made believe we were awfully pleased to see her, but we weren’t. she gave a screech and dropped her eye-glasses. they were on a black ribbon, though, and so they didn’t break. but i got the ribbon in my teeth and laid back and pulled and growled, and freya took hold of the old lady’s skirt and shook it. and all the time the old lady said “shoo! shoo, you nasty little brutes! oh, somebody take them away!”
so the master caught me and made believe spank me and the mistress caught freya and told her she was a naughty dog, and we both ran off, making believe we were very sorry and scared, and the old lady hurried into the house.
afterward freya and i laid down under the lilac hedge and talked it over. we decided that we didn’t like the old lady and that we’d wait there until she came out again to see the garden and then we’d make another dash for her and scare her again. but she didn’t come back and it was pretty hot and so we both fell fast asleep there.
when we woke up it was quite late in the afternoon and the sky was cloudy and there was a rumbly noise that sounded like thunder. freya whined and said she was afraid. i told her not to be a silly; that thunder never hurt any one. she said the lightning might, though, and she was going to the stable and crawl under the hay. she wanted me to go with her, but of course it would not have done to let freya think i was frightened too, and so i said, no, i was going to stay where i was. freya ran to the stable and just when she got to it there was a most awful crash of thunder and i forgot how brave i was and looked for a place to hide.
well, william had taken the screen-door off that morning, to mend a place freya and i had torn in the wire, and the other door happened to be open. so i looked around very carefully and then ran into the big room. just then there was more thunder and a flash of lightning and i hid under the couch. but i knew that wouldn’t do because some one would surely find me there and put me out. so i listened and didn’t hear any one and went upstairs very quietly. and when i got to the top of the stairs there was a door open and i went in and crept under the bed. it was nice and dark there and i couldn’t see the lightning. but every time it thundered i trembled and whined and had a pretty bad time of it. i could hear the rain drumming on the tin roof outside, and it seemed to me that the storm lasted for hours. but after a while it stopped and the thunder got farther and farther away and at last it died out in little growls and grumbles and i rolled over on my side and went to sleep, quite worn out.
when i awoke i heard some one moving around in the room and just to be friendly i thumped my tail on the floor. then some one came near the bed and looked under. it was too dark to see who the person was, but i thumped harder than before, and, will you believe it, it was that old lady who didn’t like dogs! she gave a most horrible scream and just flew through the door into the hall. why, she almost scared me out of a year’s growth! she cried “help! help! there’s some one under my bed!” and i heard the master shout from his room and come running. and the first thing i knew the room was full of folks and the old lady was telling how she had heard a noise and had looked down and seen two “fierce yellow eyes glaring at her.” delia shouted “’tis a burglar, mum! we’ll all be murdered, sir!” but the master told her to be quiet.
“i dare say it is only the cat,” he said, and then he knelt down and looked under the bed and i thumped my tail harder than ever and the master sat right down on the floor and laughed and laughed! then the mistress said:
“what is it, george? do stop that silly laughing! is it ju-ju?”
so the master reached in and pulled me out by the scruff of my neck and held me up. “here’s your burglar,” he said. and then they all laughed; all except the old lady who didn’t like dogs. she was very angry about it.
“i am glad you all think it so funny,” she said with a sniff. “for my part i fail to see the humour. and what is more i refuse to remain in a house where i am to be pestered by dogs and scared out of my wits every minute. i’m thankful my trunk is not fully unpacked.”
but she didn’t go, after all, for which freya and i were sorry. and even though we stayed around the house a lot in the hope that she would come out so we could run at her and jump on her, she didn’t once set her foot off the piazza, and all we could do was get close to the screen and growl at her. the mistress said: “it’s too bad you don’t like dogs, miss mumford, they’re such company for one, and living alone as you do a dog would be a great comfort to you. just see the little dears begging to be let in. wasn’t it funny how they took to you at once the day you came? they seem quite fond of you.”
and the mistress glanced at me and then smiled at the thing she was sewing on. and freya and i looked at each other and laughed. and the old lady who didn’t like dogs said “humph!” just like that.
