Read Online The Saturdays by Elizabeth Enright - Free Book Online

that has happened to me yet!” He made Rush feel so guilty that he had to keep apologizing. “Gee, I’m sorry. Honest, I am. But it’s for your own good, I promise you it is.” Nevertheless, in spite of his apologies, when Rush stooped to pick up the soap which had flown from his hand, the dog with a scramble and a leap had cleared the washtub, and, covered with lather, was streaking up the stairs. Rush, scarcely less wet, went racing after him calling in a loud whisper, “Come back! For Pete’s sake, do you want to get us both in Dutch?” The door at the top of the steps had not been tightly closed, alas, and the dog pushed it open and sped down the lower hall. Then there was a crash, a clatter, and a loud cry, all at the same instant, and Rush was just in time to see Randy sprawled on the floor surrounded by knives, forks, spoons, the tray, and all the salt cellars.
    â€œWhere’s he gone?” hissed Rush fiercely.
    â€œWhat was it anyway? Gee whiz, it came at me like a thunderbolt,” said Randy, getting up.
    There was no need to answer, for at that moment another loud cry issued from the kitchen. “Mad dog!” yelled Cuffy’s voice. “ Mad dog! MR. MELENDY, THERE’S A MAD DOG!”
    Rush and Randy flew to the kitchen where they found Cuffy standing on a chair wild-eyed.
    â€œGet out!” she shouted. “Lock yourselves in your rooms and call the police or the fire department or somebody!”
    â€œHe’s not mad,” said Rush dispiritedly—the game was up now, he knew. “Where’d he go?”
    Father appeared in the doorway. “What’s going on down here?” he demanded sternly.
    â€œI tell you he’s mad!” insisted Cuffy. “Covered with foam he was; I saw a dog covered with foam!”
    â€œIt’s just soapsuds,” said Rush sadly. “I was just washing him so you’d like him, maybe, and I could keep him.”
    â€œWhat dog are you talking about?” inquired Father blankly.
    â€œJust this dog I found,” Rush explained. “All wet and lost, without a collar.”
    Cuffy climbed down off her chair looking rather foolish.
    â€œWhere is this dog?” said Father.
    â€œI think it’s under the stove, Mr. Melendy,” said Cuffy in a dignified voice. She bent down with a grunt and hauled out the miserable bundle of fur and soapsuds.
    â€œWell!” remarked Father. “You must have seen something in him, Rush, but I can’t imagine what.”
    â€œHe’ll look all right when he’s clean,” Rush said eagerly. “I think he’s a pretty high-bred dog. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s a spaniel.”
    â€œOne-third spaniel, I should judge by the looks of him,” said Father. “And two-thirds miscellany.”
    â€œWhat kind of a dog is a miscellany?” asked Randy, already on her knees by the dog.
    â€œHe means it’s a mutt,” said Rush bitterly. Everything was awful.
    Cuffy, still red in the face, opened the oven door with a clank and out came an unbearably delicious smell of chops. It was then that the dog solved the problem. Wet, unkempt, far from beautiful, he walked right over to Cuffy, turned his melting eyes upon her, and sat up on his hind paws, begging. Rush’s heart swelled with as much pride as if he’d taught the dog this trick himself.
    â€œOh, how wonderful! Oh, Rush, how smart he is!” gasped Randy.
    Cuffy frowned at the bedraggled mutt and tried not to smile.
    â€œBegging, dirty rascal!” she said, but the way she said it kindled a great suffocating blaze of hope under Rush’s ribs. He looked at his father.
    â€œHe can shake hands too,” he said.
    â€œFinish washing him,” ordered Father. “Then feed him. When he looks a little less like a half-drowned famine victim I can tell better. Maybe (remember I said maybe ) if no one claims him in the lost and found