My name is Snip. You can read it on my collar: though why my master put it there I can't tell; for everybody knows me, and almost everybody is my friend. People stop in the street to pat me; the little children love to have me play with them, because I never snarl and bite; and the butcher round the corner saves me a bone every day. I think butchers are very nice men.
Every morning I go down street to get the newspaper for my master. The bookseller always has it rolled up, waiting for me, and puts it in my mouth; and back I trot as fast as my legs will go. Today I had a hard time of it; for, just as I got nicely started for home, some bad boys who were playing in the road saw me, and thought it would be fine fun to catch me, and take my paper away.

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