"Roly is over at Mr. Thompson's house
you know," for the little poodle had been sent away while the garden was
being made. Mr. Thompson had planted nothing, having too small a yard.
"I don't care!" exclaimed Mab. "I DID see Roly. He's in the bushes
there--under the morning glories."
"Well, if it's your dog Roly I would not be so frightened of HIM," said
Sammie. "Only I thinked he was a LION."
"Here, Roly! Roly-Poly, come on out!" cried Hal, and out came a very
queer-looking dog indeed. It was Roly, but how he had changed. He was all
stuck over with leaves, grass and bits of bark from the trees. He
certainly did "fuzzy," as Sammie had said, and not at all like the nice,
clean poodle he had been.
"Oh, whatever is the matter with him?" cried Mab.
"He's got a lot of leaves stuck on him," added Hal. "Come here, Roly, and
I'll pull 'em off for you."
Roly came running over to Hal, but when the little boy tried to get the
leaves, grass and bits of bark off his pet he found out what was the
matter.
"Roly's all stuck up in fly paper!" cried Hal. "Look!"
"In fly paper?" asked Mr. Blake. "Are you sure?"
"Yes, he must have sat down in some fly paper, and it stuck to him all
over, and then he rolled in the leaves and grass," answered Hal.
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