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قراءة كتاب Lad: A Dog
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LAD: A DOG
LAD: A DOG
BY
ALBERT PAYSON TERHUNE
NEW YORK
E. P. DUTTON & COMPANY
681 FIFTH AVENUE
Copyright 1919
By E. P. DUTTON & COMPANY
All Rights Reserved
| First Printing, | April, 1919 |
| Second Printing, | June, 1919 |
| Third Printing, | July, 1919 |
| Fourth Printing, | August, 1919 |
| Fifth Printing, | August, 1919 |
| Sixth Printing, | August, 1919 |
| Seventh Printing, | August, 1919 |
| Eighth Printing, | August, 1919 |
| Ninth Printing, | August, 1919 |
| Tenth Printing, | August, 1919 |
| Eleventh Printing, | December, 1919 |
| Twelfth Printing, | December, 1919 |
| Thirteenth Printing, | December, 1919 |
| Fourteenth Printing, | December, 1919 |
| Fifteenth Printing, | December, 1919 |
| Sixteenth Printing, | December, 1919 |
| Seventeenth Printing, | December, 1919 |
| Eighteenth Printing, | August, 1921 |
| Nineteenth Printing, | March, 1922 |
| Twentieth Printing, | August, 1922 |
| Twenty-first Printing, | Sept., 1922 |
| Twenty-second Pr'ting, | Feb., 1923 |
Printed in the United States of America
MY BOOK IS DEDICATED
TO THE MEMORY OF
Lad
THOROUGHBRED IN BODY AND SOUL
CONTENTS
| CHAPTER | PAGE | |
| I. | His Mate | 1 |
| II. | "Quiet!" | 26 |
| III. | A Miracle of Two | 49 |
| IV. | His Little Son | 74 |
| V. | For a Bit of Ribbon | 97 |
| VI. | Lost! | 126 |
| VII. | The Throwback | 156 |
| VIII. | The Gold Hat | 180 |
| IX. | Speaking of Utility | 218 |
| X. | The Killer | 251 |
| XI. | Wolf | 297 |
| XII. | In the Day of Battle | 321 |
| Afterword | 347 |
LAD: A DOG
CHAPTER I
HIS MATE
Lady was as much a part of Lad's everyday happiness as the sunshine itself. She seemed to him quite as perfect, and as gloriously indispensable. He could no more have imagined a Ladyless life than a sunless life. It had never occurred to him to suspect that Lady could be any less devoted than he—until Knave came to The Place.
Lad was an eighty-pound collie, thoroughbred in spirit as well as in blood. He had the benign dignity that was a heritage from endless generations of high-strain ancestors. He had, too, the gay courage of a d'Artagnan, and an uncanny wisdom. Also—who could doubt it, after a look into his mournful brown eyes—he had a Soul.
His shaggy coat, set off by the snowy ruff and chest, was like orange-flecked mahogany. His absurdly tiny forepaws—in which he took inordinate pride—were silver white.
Three years earlier, when Lad was in his first prime (before the mighty chest and shoulders had filled out and the tawny coat had waxed so shaggy), Lady had been brought to The Place. She had been brought in the Master's overcoat pocket, rolled up into a fuzzy gold-gray ball of softness no bigger than a