A Little Maid of Old Philadelphia

								

pretty bits of silk for her dolls, and the plan for making the chairs,
vanished. Hero was lost; she knew he was. With his silky coat, and his
faithful, soft brown eyes, his eager bark of welcome when his little
mistress came running into the garden for a game of hide-and-go-seek
with him.
Aunt Deborah had spread the table for dinner, which was one of Ruth's
regular duties; and when Ruth came slowly into the room she was just
bringing in a dish of baked potatoes hot from the oven.
"I didn't find Hero," said Ruth, throwing her little package of silks on
a chair and then her hat on top of it. "What shall I do, Aunt Deborah?
What shall I do? I am sure one of those English soldiers has taken him,"
and now Ruth began to cry.
"Ruth! Stop thy foolish crying. Thy dinner is waiting. Go to thy room
and make thyself tidy," commanded Aunt Deborah, "and take thy hat and
package," she added.
Ruth obeyed rather reluctantly. "All Aunt Deborah thinks about is
keeping 'tidy,'" she whispered rebelliously as she left the room. "I've
washed my hands three times already to-day. She doesn't care if Hero is
lost. Probably she's glad, because his paws are dirty."
But Ruth was mistaken; Aunt Deborah had spent an hour that morning in
going up and down the alley looking for the missing dog, and in a
careful search of the house and garden. She valued Hero's faithfulness;
and not even Ruth herself would have been more pleased than Aunt Deborah
to hear his bark, and see him jump forward from his usual playground in
the garden.
"Perhaps Hero has wandered off," Aunt Deborah said when Ruth took her
place at the table, "but he will come back, I doubt not, before
nightfall."
"If he doesn't I shall go and tell the British General that he must find
him," declared Ruth, somewhat to Aunt Deborah's amusement; who was quite
sure that the little girl would not dare to approach General Howe, who
had comfortably established himself in one of the fine houses on High
Street.

CHAPTER II
GILBERT AND LAFAYETTE

Two days passed and there was no tidings of the missing dog; and even
Aunt Deborah began to fear that they should never see him again. It was
very difficult for Ruth to attend to the tasks that Aunt Deborah set for
her; for all she could think of was Hero.
Gilbert Merrill had gone about the city making inquiries, but no one had
seen Hero, or could tell him anything about Ruth's dog. Aunt Deborah was
very sorry for her little niece, but she still insisted that Ruth should
dust the dining-room as carefully each morning as if Hero was safe in
the yard; that the little girl should knit her stint on the gray wool
sock, intended for some loyal soldier, and sew for a half hour each
afternoon.
Ruth dropped stitches in her knitting, for a little blur of tears hid
her work from sight when she thought that perhaps her dear Hero might
be hurt, unable to find his way home; or perhaps he was shut up