When he was tied out in the yard, he would
sometimes get to thinking of his home and long to see Farmer Brown and
Mrs. Brown and especially his master, Farmer Brown's boy. Then, when he
could stand it no longer, he would open his mouth and send his great
voice rolling across to the woods with a tone of mournfulness which
never had been there before.
But great as was Bowser's voice, and far as it would carry, there was
none who knew him to hear it, save Blacky the Crow. You remember that
Blacky knew just where Bowser was and often flew over that farmyard to
make sure that Bowser was still there. So more than once Blacky heard
Bowser's great voice with its mournful note, and understood it.
It troubled Blacky. Yes, Sir, it actually troubled Blacky. He knew just
what was the matter with Bowser, but for the life of him he couldn't
think of any way of helping Bowser. "That dog is homesick," croaked
Blacky, as he sat in the top of a tall tree, scratching his head as if
he thought he might scratch an idea out of it. "Of course he doesn't
know how to get home, and if he tried he probably would get as badly
lost as he was before. Anyway, they don't give him a chance to try. I
can't lead Farmer Brown's boy over here because he doesn't understand my
talk, and I don't understand his. There isn't a thing I can do but keep
watch.
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