The Neighbor's Puppy

Our neighbor's daughter brought a puppy home.  It got into her flowers and was so pesky, in general, that she repeatedly told me she wished something would happen to it.

One day we had bought some chickens.  It was beginning to rain and Clarance was in a hurry trying to fix a pen for them.  That puppy came over and was snapping at the heads of the chickens (I had gone to the house because of the rain and didn't see a thing).

Clarence was a long time coming in.  He said as the dog snapped at the chickens, he hit it a little hard with the hammer he had in his hand, and it laid down and died.  He had been burying it.  I did not dare to tell the neighbor.

The next day, she came over and said the dog had got lost, she hoped it never came back.  I said nothing,  I didn't dare.

A few months later a partly grown dog came by and stopped in the yard.  Its color was so much like the missing dog.  She came to tell me the dog had come back.  Said she, "It has grown bigger but I would know its hide in a tannery."  I wanted to burst--but I said nothing!