Harper's New Monthly Magazine Volume 104 December 1901 to May 1902 . dntlet Misery get in the way on the fink hes a very good sailor. He onlywants to be with me. You see, I foundhim myself; hes mine; nobody didnt buyhim for me! The significant and im-passioned note of possession was not loston his listener. The man looked at himkeenly. Hello! Are you old—are you JohnB. Anskews son? Course! The boy turned his fear-less, troubled eyes. Jove! no wonder! muttered theother. Yes, your fathers a very busyman, but perhaps if he knew how verymuch you want the dog— The child shook his head concl
Harper's New Monthly Magazine Volume 104 December 1901 to May 1902 . dntlet Misery get in the way on the fink hes a very good sailor. He onlywants to be with me. You see, I foundhim myself; hes mine; nobody didnt buyhim for me! The significant and im-passioned note of possession was not loston his listener. The man looked at himkeenly. Hello! Are you old—are you JohnB. Anskews son? Course! The boy turned his fear-less, troubled eyes. Jove! no wonder! muttered theother. Yes, your fathers a very busyman, but perhaps if he knew how verymuch you want the dog— The child shook his head conclusively. My f arver cant be interrupted at pres-ent. The telephone and telegraph andPitts—thats his sekkertary—are all go-in at once. Hell start for the Mediter-ranean this time. He was goin to startthe day before yesterday, but he stayedto take Miss Lehew aboard the LadyBabbie* He said it was all her fault thathe didnt go to-day, but hes goin to-morrow sure, cause he was orderin fingsaround this mornin— The boy stoppedshort. O wise young judge! murmured. If you touch Misery, Ill lick you! he said the man. He leaned upon his elbownow, and his indifference had vanished. Your fathers yachts a daisy! he said,invitingly. The boy fell into the trap. Shes well enough for a yacht,—if Icould take Misery along. Im most tiredof yachts and tings, though the yachtsbettern the John B. Anskew,—thats theprivate car we go to California in. Ida heap rawer have Misery. A yachts nogood. Theres luncheons most everyday, and me and Jonesy have to keep outof the way, and Jonesys tiresome some-times. He sighed, and clasped his armsaround his knees, pausing to take a burroff his silk stockings. Too bad, old fellow. Dont you think youd better ask your father again aboutthe dog? The boy shook his head again. Hesaid, Ill not have that dirty cur on theyacht! An Misery isnt real dirty; hesjust not used to flngs yet; but—but hesawful struck on me; the little boy swal-lowed something hard agai
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