human
Such a time as I had to get away from him this mornin’, she said.
gpt
He knows Sunday as well as you do, but other days he expects to go to the store with me, and from the first I expected trouble. I thought I’d begin to plan about an hour before service, so’s to slip off without his knowin’ it; but Mr. Jack, I’m glad Salem days are gone and done with, or that dog would be burned for a witch. As sure as I’m talkin’ to you this minute, he always knows what I’m thinkin’ about. He acted meachin’ from the minute breakfast was over. I was unusually clever to him too; told him Merry Christmas, and snapped my finger to him; but sir, he whined. He just sat down and looked at me pitiful and whined. I really believed the critter was sick, and felt of his nose; but it made me jump; ’t was as cold’s a frog; and law, when I begun to go to church I found he wa’n’t confined to the bed by a long chalk. I say _begun_ to go to church, ’cause that’s just what it was. I’ve been back to this house this mornin’ three different times, said Aunt Love impressively.
human
The first time Blitzen wasn’t in sight anywheres, so I just thought I’d seize the chance, and I turned the house-door key and hurried down the path, puttin’ my shawl on and pinnin’ my veil as I went. I hadn’t but just got to the cross-roads when I spied him trottin’ slowly along as still and pious as though he’d been sent for in a hurry to tend a dyin’ friend. I suspicioned mischief, but still I wasn’t sure. You can usually tell somethin’ about a dog’s notions by his tail; but Blitzen not havin’ any he gets the best o’ me there, and he knows it. I tipped along when I saw him, for thinks says I perhaps he’s settin’ out to head me off at the store, and if that was his idea it just suited me; for ’twas the other cross-road that was the shortest way to church. Well, he started that path. Now, said Aunt Love argumentatively, as she mechanically broke a long twig from a lilac bush,
gpt
I don’t s’pose you believe any more ’n I do that Blitzen’s got eyes in his back, though why he shouldn’t be equally blind in both ends is another o’ the mysteries; but the very minute I set my foot, silent as the dead, mind you, into the church road, that dog stopped and looked over his shoulder. It was a hang-dog look, but set. I stopped too, and he smiled,—there, like that,