“‘Oh, if you could but cure him, how glad Roger would be!’ replied Florence.

“They soon reached the shepherd’s cottage, but the door was fastened; and when they moved the latch, such a furious barking was heard that they drew back, startled.  However, a little boy came out of the next cottage, and asked if they wanted to go in, as Roger had left the key with his mother.  So the key was got, and the door opened; and there on the bare brick floor lay the dog, his hair dishevelled, and his eyes sparkling with anger at the intruders.  But when he saw the little boy he grew peaceful, and when he looked at Florence, and heard her call him ‘poor Cap,’ he began to wag his short tail; and then crept from under the table, and lay down at her feet.  She took hold of one of his paws, patted his old rough head, and talked to him, whilst her friend examined the injured leg.  It was dreadfully swollen, and hurt very much to have it examined; but the dog knew it was meant kindly, and though he moaned and winced with pain, he licked the hands that were hurting him.

“‘It’s only a bad bruise; no bones are broken,’ said her old friend; ‘rest is all Cap needs; he will soon be well again.’

“‘I am so glad,’ said Florence; ’but can we do nothing for him? he seems in such pain.’

“’There is one thing that would ease the pain and heal the leg all the sooner, and that is plenty of hot water to foment the part.’

“Florence struck a light with the tinder-box, and lighted the fire, which was already laid.  She then set off to the other cottage to get something to bathe the leg with.  She found an old flannel petticoat hanging up to dry, and this she carried off, and tore up into slips, which she wrung out in warm water, and laid them tenderly on Cap’s swollen leg.  It was not long before the poor dog felt the benefit of the application, and he looked grateful, wagging his little stump of a tail in thanks.  On their way home they met the shepherd coming slowly along, with a piece of rope in his hand.

“‘Oh, Roger,’ cried Florence, ’you are not to hang poor old Cap; his leg is not broken at all.’

“‘No, he will serve you yet,’ said the vicar.

“‘Well, I be main glad to hear it,’ said the shepherd, ’and many thanks to you for going to see him.’

“On the next morning Florence was up early, and the first thing she did was to take two flannel petticoats to give to the poor woman whose skirt she had torn up to bathe Cap.  Then she went to the dog, and was delighted to find the swelling of his leg much less.  She bathed it again, and Cap was as grateful as before.