i. the dog and the policeman

one snowy day shortly after christmas, when carefully picking my way over the crossing at market street ferry in philadelphia, i almost ran into a big policeman.

just back of the big policeman was a little dog, and just back of the little dog was a little dog-house, and just back of the dog-house was a beautiful christmas tree.

wouldn’t it have made you stop in surprise to see a dog-house in the middle of the busiest street in your city or town? wouldn’t you have wondered why the big policeman had the little dog, and why the little dog had such a nice house there? and wouldn’t you have wondered and wondered whether the christmas tree belonged to the dog or to the big policeman? it made me so curious that i did just as you would have liked to do—i asked the policeman to tell me the story.

ii. the policeman’s story

“good morning, mr. burke,” i said, for i knew the officer’s name. “will you tell me about the little dog?”

“why,” answered the policeman with a smile, “don’t you know about cheesey? come here, cheesey, the lady wants to see you!”

cheesey looked up at the speaker and wagged his tail.

“cheesey was born on race street pier,” went on the policeman. “nobody knows how he got his living after his mother died; but one thing is sure, he was not treated very kindly by the men who loaded the boats and swept the wharves. to this day cheesey growls at the sight of one of those men.

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“after a while cheesey found a little playmate, but the playmate was run over by a fire engine. all night long cheesey lay in the spot where his little mate had been killed.

“weary and lonely and hungry, he crept back to the old cheerless corner of race street pier, which was the only place he knew as home.

“there he lay with his head on his paws, not noticing anything until one of the men kicked him out of the way.

“cheesey ran out of the pier and down delaware avenue, not knowing where he was going; but he went just the right way, for he ran into officer weigner, one of the four of us who watch this crossing.

“he spoke kindly to the little fellow, and gave him something to eat.

“from that time, cheesey seemed to think he belonged to the policemen on this crossing. then we gave him his name.”

iii. cheesey’s christmas presents

“cheesey had no place to sleep,” went on the policeman after seeing some people safely across the street, “except on a pile of bags in the ferry house. he seemed so cold that i asked charley, one of the workmen in the ferry, if he[59] could not knock together some packing boxes for the little fellow.

“charley did the best he could, but i must say he made a sorry looking dog-house.

“one day, just before christmas while i was on duty, mr. sheip, of the sheip box factory, happened to notice the box charley had knocked together.

“‘well, well,’ he said, ‘is that the best you fellows can do?’

“‘why, mr. sheip,’ i replied, ‘we are not box-makers, you know.’

“‘that’s so!’ he said. ‘i’ll have a dog-house made in the factory!’ and on christmas day this beauty of a dog-house came. have you noticed the label on it?”

i read the painted black letters on the large white label:

merry christmas

to

cheesey

from

officers burke, dougherty,

kunzig, and weigner.

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“it pleased us so,” went on the officer, “that we bought a christmas tree and many people helped us trim it.

“a good many people brought presents for cheesey. one lady from camden brought a feather pillow; another lady brought a piece of meat. that dog could have seventeen meals a day if he could hold them—couldn’t you, cheesey?”

the little dog wagged his tail, turned around twice, then went into his house. after thanking the officer i went on my way, made happier for all my life because of the true story of cheesey.