Bedtime Tales

New Zealand Times, Volume LIII, Issue 12513, 31 July 1926, Page 16

Bedtime Tales

A DRAGGLED LITTLE HERO

Punch was one of those jolly little dogs with bright eyes and a tail that wagged verv often and very fast, and he was very fond of exploring. His little master Jack always tried to follow, and one day at the seaside they had a great adventure together. They were all on the shore one hot afternoon, and daddy and mother were having forty winks m their deck chairs, while Jack was building sand castles for Punch to knock over. After a time Punch grew tired of doing nothing, and got up and wandered along the shore to where the cliff curved out into the sea at one side of the bay. At low tide there was just room to paddle round to the next bay, and Jack, who had his shoes and socks off, followed Punch as he splashed through the shallow water. Farther and farther out they went until they came to a big pool where there were all sorts of exciting things, including baby crabs and shrimps. Jack sat on the rock, with his feet in the water, and fished with his spade, while Punch patted the sea with His paws. “Come along, Punch,” said Jack at last, “I’m sure it must be teatime, I’m hungry.” He scrambled to his feet, turned towards the shore—and had a horrid shock. Between the big rock on which he was standing and the sand was nothing but a stretch of sea for the tide had risen. “We’re shipwrecked sailors, Punch,” he cried. “Wow! wow!” barked Punch, and wagged his tail. “ ’Fraid we’ll be drowned, Punch,” he said, with a catch m his voice. “Suppose you couldn’t swim back and fetch daddy?” he added, pointing towards the end of the cliff they had come round. Now, Punch was a very sharp little dog, and although he didn’t really understand what his master said, he did know he was in trouble, and without more ado jumped into the sea and swam towards the end of the cliff. It was a very wet and draggled little dog who rushed up to daddy and mother, who were anxiously looking about for their little son. “Look, clad! Here’s Punch,” cried mother, who was the first to see him. “Where can Jack have got to?” Punch barked and barked and went racing back towards the point of the cliff, then stopped to see if the others were following. In a flash daddy understood what he was trying to tell them. “All right, sonny! I’m coming.” he cried, as he tore off his boots and coat. The water was almost up to his chin when he reached the rock. He caught hold of the little boy and managed to get back round the cliff just before a big wave came thundering in. “Take him in, mother, and nut him to bed,” cried Daddy. “Give him some hot milk and he will soon be all right. I’ll look after dear old Punch. He ought to have a medal!”