“Tim is such a cross, snappy dog,” continued Tommy.  “He makes me angry every time I try to teach him anything.”

“May be it is because you are angry that he is cross and snappy,” said Almira Jane, half under her breath.

Of course Master Sunshine was very proud to exhibit Gyp.  He loved to have his pet look up at him with trusting brown eyes; and when Gyp sprang on his knee, and put his paws affectionately about his master’s neck, it always seemed as if he were not quite a dog, but something very like a dear human friend.  Gyp had such winning ways too.  He would stand on his hind legs and beg, or he would seat himself on a chair, and hold out a paw to shake hands with, in the most knowing manner; and all of these accomplishments he owed to his little master’s patient teaching.

Almira Jane was through washing the dishes now; and as she took the broom in hand to begin sweeping out the kitchen, Tim gave a frightened growl, and fled to the dining-room.

Almira Jane grew very red in the face as she said, “That dog can think well enough, and tell his thoughts too.  It is plain to me that some one has used a broom to ill-treat the poor, helpless creature with.”

Almira Jane looked very hard at Tommy as she spoke; but Tommy threw back his head as if he did not much care what she said, and followed his dog into the dining-room.  “Let’s keep away from that girl,” he said coaxingly; “it seems to me she is very interfering.”

“She taught me how to teach Gyp,” said Master Sunshine politely; “and she is very wise about animals.  You’ll be fond of her, too, when you understand her ways.  She only gets ‘nervous,’ like she was now, when she is very busy and hurried, or when she thinks people have been unkind.  I’m sure she did not mean that you had beaten your Tim with a broom.”

Tommy hung his head.

“But I did,” he said, almost in a whisper; “he would not shake hands, as I wanted him to, so I took up the broom and gave him a blow with it.  I thought no one saw me do it, and I never imagined Tim would tell.”

Master Sunshine was very much shocked.  He had not believed that his friend would be guilty of such a deed.  “Tommy,” he said gravely, “if you are unkind to Tim he will never look at you as if he loved you, and that is the nicest thing about having a dog.”

“I got him a pound of raw meat from the butcher’s to make up for it,” said Tommy, half sulkily.

“But that wasn’t kind, either, though you meant it to be so,” cried Master Sunshine; “Tim is too young a dog to have so much meat at one time.  He needs to have his meals regularly, just like you and me.  Too much fresh meat will make him very cross.  Perhaps that is part of the reason why he snaps at you.”

Tommy was much interested.  “I wonder why I never knew that before?” he cried.  “After this I will see about his meals myself.  I always thought that if you gave a dog a bone now and then he would get along all right.”