NOBLE AND TRICKSY.

TWO dogs they were, and I am about to tell you a true story concerning them. Tricksy belonged to little Robbie Parker, and was one of the nicest dogs I ever knew. Robbie thought so; he came to his mother almost every night with a fresh story of the fellow's goodness.

"It is a pity he has such a dishonorable name," the mother said. "I don't like tricky people."

"O, mamma!" would Robbie say. "He is only a dog; but then I know he wouldn't do any thing mean."

In the course of time, Robbie's older brother Nelson, became the owner of the wickedest looking little dog that over yelped. If you want to know just how he looked, here is his picture.

What Nelson saw in the little wretch to please him, it would be hard to say; and of all things, he was named Noble!

If the names could have been turned about, and "Tricksy" given to him, I think it would have suited every one but Nelson.

He was a queer fellow, and certainly he had many tricks. Brave old Tricksy took kindly to him, and used to frolic with him in a dignified way, and whether it was that being with the little scamp so much he learned some of his ways or not, I do not know, but certain it is that the funny thing I am going to tell you, actually happened.

There was nothing that the little scamp named "Noble" liked better than to have a race with old Tricksy around the great trees on the lawn. Yes, perhaps there was one thing that he liked almost as well, and that was, to curl himself on a certain cushion that before he came, had been the large dog's special property.

So sure as the old dog left it for a minute to do an errand, or to attend to any of his duties, up the little scamp would jump and be in possession. Good old Tricksy stood it patiently a good many times, but at last one day he evidently thought out a way to manage the little new comer. It was just after a hearty dinner, and it was a chilly day, and a cosy nap on the warm cushion, I suppose, looked most inviting to both dogs. The little one was ahead, as usual, and the old dog sat clown by the stove to think about it. At last he got up, moved gravely towards the door leading to the lawn, then turned around to the little dog and said as plainly as dog-language would admit:

"Come on, then, if you want a race."

TRICKSY.

Down jumped the little dog in a perfect flutter of delight, and wagged his tail, and barked his short, sharp barks that said "Oh, good, good!" and ran to the door.

What did our grave old dog do but turn around very quickly, spring to the bench behind the stove, curl himself on the cushion, and go to sleep, leaving the disappointed younger one to bear the loss of his frolic and his cushion, as best he might!

"He has earned his name!" somebody said, laughing. "O, Tricksy, Tricksy! We can never say you ought to be called 'Noble' any more."

But what do you think Robbie did? Instead of being delighted with the sharpness of his dear old dog, he burst into tears.

"Why, Robbie!" mamma said. "What is the matter?"

Then Robbie wailed forth his heart-breaking question:

"Was it wicked, mamma? Tricksy didn't know any better; he is only a dog."

"Of course it was wicked!" Nelson declared in his most teasing tone. "My good little Noble wouldn't think of doing such a cheating thing."

NOBLE.

Whether mamma wanted to comfort Robbie or whether she thought Nelson needed the lesson; or whether it was a little of both reasons that made her speak just then, I will not stop to tell you, but what she said was:

"He may have been led astray by bad example. I wonder if it can be possible that he saw a boy take his slate and book under his arm yesterday and walk towards the stairs as if he were going to the library to study, then dodge out at the side door, hide his books under a rose-bush, and run off to play marbles with the boys?"

Not a word said Nelson; his cheeks grew red, and he looked down and fumbled with his watch-chain. Do you think his mother could have meant him?