One morning in May Fido sat on the front porch, and he was deep in thought. He was wondering whether the people who were moving into the next house were as cross and unfeeling as the people who had just moved out. He hoped they were not, for the people who had just moved out had never treated Fido with that respect and kindness which Fido believed he was on all occasions entitled to.  
"The new-comers must be nice folks," said Fido to himself, "for their feather-beds look big and comfortable, and their baskets are all ample and generous,—and see, there goes a bright gilt¹ cage, and there is a plump yellow canary bird in it! Oh, how glad Mrs. Tabby will be to see it,—she so dotes on dear little [Pg 196]canary birds!"
 
Mrs. Tabby was the old brindled² cat, who was the mother of the four cunning little kittens in the hay-mow. Fido had heard her remark very purringly only a few days ago that she longed for a canary bird, just to amuse her little ones and give them correct musical ears. Honest old Fido! There was no guile³ in his heart, and he never dreamed there was in all the wide world such a sin as hypocrisy⁴. So when Fido saw the little canary bird in the cage he was glad for Mrs. Tabby's sake.
 
While Fido sat on the front porch and watched the people moving into the next house another pair of eyes peeped out of the old hollow maple⁵ over the way. This was the red-headed woodpecker, who had a warm, cosey nest far down in the old hollow maple, and in the nest there were four beautiful eggs, of which the red-headed woodpecker was very proud.
 
"Good-morning, Mr. Fido," called the red-headed woodpecker from her high perch⁶. "You are out bright and early to-day. And what do you think of our new neighbors?"
 
"Upon my word, I cannot tell," replied Fido, [Pg 197]wagging his tail cheerily, "for I am not acquainted with them. But I have been watching them closely, and by to-day noon I think I shall be on speaking terms with them,—provided, of course, they are not the cross, unkind people our old neighbors were."
 
"Oh, I do so hope there are no little boys in the family," sighed the red-headed woodpecker; and then she added, with much determination and a defiant⁷ toss of her beautiful head: "I hate little boys!"
 
"Why so?" inquired Fido. "As for myself, I love little boys. I have always found them the pleasantest of companions. Why do you dislike them?"
 
"Because they are wicked," said the red-headed woodpecker. "They climb trees and break up the nests we have worked so hard to build, and they steal away our lovely eggs—oh, I hate little boys!"
 
"Good little boys don't steal birds' eggs," said Fido, "and I'm sure I never would play with a bad boy."
 
But the red-headed woodpecker insisted that all little boys were wicked; and, firm in this faith, [Pg 198]she flew away to the linden over yonder, where, she had heard the thrush say, there lived a family of fat white grubs. The red-headed woodpecker wanted her breakfast, and it would have been hard to find a more palatable⁹ morsel¹⁰ for her than a white fat grub.
 
As for Fido, he sat on the front porch and watched the people moving in. And as he watched them he thought of what the red-headed woodpecker had said, and he wondered whether it could be possible for little boys to be so cruel as to rob birds' nests. As he brooded over this sad possibility, his train of thought was interrupted by the sound of a voice that fell pleasantly on his ears.
 
"Goggie, goggie, goggie!" said the voice. "Tum here, 'ittle goggie—tum here, goggie, goggie, goggie!"
 
Fido looked whence the voice seemed to come, and he saw a tiny figure on the other side of the fence,—a cunning baby-figure in the yard that belonged to the house where the new neighbors were moving in. A second glance assured Fido that the calling stranger was a little boy not more than three years old, wearing a pretty dress, and a broad hat that crowned his yellow[Pg 199] hair and shaded his big blue eyes and dimpled face. The sight was a pleasing one, and Fido vibrated his tail,—very cautiously, however, for Fido was not quite certain that the little boy meant his greeting for him, and Fido's sad experiences with the old neighbors had made him wary¹¹ about scraping acquaintances too hastily.
 
"Tum, 'ittle goggie!" persisted the prattling¹² stranger, and, as if to encourage Fido, the little boy stretched his chubby¹³ arms through the fence and waved them entreatingly¹⁴.
 
Fido was convinced now; so he got up, and with many cordial gestures of his hospitable¹⁵ tail, trotted¹⁶ down the steps and over the lawn to the corner of the fence where the little stranger was.
 
"Me love oo," said the little stranger, patting Fido's honest brown back; "me love oo, 'ittle goggie."
 
Fido knew that, for there were caresses¹⁷ in every stroke of the dimpled hands. Fido loved the little boy, too,—yes, all at once he loved the little boy; and he licked the dimpled hands, and gave three short, quick barks, and wagged[Pg 200] his tail hysterically¹⁸. So then and there began the friendship of Fido and the little boy.
 
Presently Fido crawled under the fence into the next yard, and then the little boy sat down on the grass, and Fido put his forepaws in the little boy's lap and cocked up his ears and looked up into the little boy's face, as much as to say, "We shall be great friends, shall we not, little boy?"
 
"Me love oo," said the little boy; "me wan⁸' to tiss oo, 'ittle goggie!"
 
And the little boy did kiss Fido,—yes, right on Fido's cold nose; and Fido liked to have the little boy kiss him, for it reminded him of another little boy who used to kiss him, but who was now so big that he was almost ashamed to play with Fido any more.
 
"Is oo sit, 'ittle goggie?" asked the little boy, opening his blue eyes to their utmost capacity and looking very piteous. "Oo nose be so told, oo mus' be sit, 'ittle goggie!"
 
But no, Fido was not sick, even though his nose was cold. Oh, no; he romped²⁰ and played all that morning in the cool, green grass with the little boy; and the red-headed woodpecker,[Pg 201] clinging to the bark on the hickory-tree, laughed at their merry antics till her sides ached and her beautiful head turned fairly livid. Then, at last, the little boy's mamma came out of the house and told him he had played long enough; and neither the red-headed woodpecker nor Fido saw him again that day.
 
But the next morning the little boy toddled²¹ down to the fence-corner, bright and early, and called, "Goggie! goggie! goggie!" so loudly, that Fido heard him in the wood-shed, where he was holding a morning chat with Mrs. Tabby. Fido hastened to answer the call; the way he spun²² out of the wood-shed and down the gravel²³ walk and around the corner of the house was a marvel²⁴.
 
"Mamma says oo dot f'eas, 'ittle goggie," said the little boy. "Has oo dot f'eas?"
 
Fido looked crestfallen²⁵, for could Fido have spoken he would have confessed that he indeed was afflicted²⁶ with fleas²⁷,—not with very many fleas, but just enough to interrupt his slumbers²⁸ and his meditations²⁹ at the most inopportune moments. And the little boy's guileless impeachment³⁰ set Fido to feeling creepy-crawly all of a sudden, and without any further ado Fido turned[Pg 202] deftly³¹ in his tracks, twisted his head back toward his tail, and by means of several well-directed bites and plunges³² gave the malicious³³ Bedouins thereabouts located timely warning to behave themselves. The little boy thought this performance very funny, and he laughed

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