Wrens hopped about the path, and even upon the porch steps, secure in their knowledge that they were too quick for Sandyface to reach, and with unbounded faith in human beings. An oriole burst into melody, swinging in the great snowball bush near the Willow Street fence.
There was a moist, warm smell from the garden; the old rooster crowed raucously; Billy Bumps bleated a wistful "Good-morning" from his pen. Then came a scramble of padded feet, and Sandyface went up the nearest tree like a flash of lightning.
"Here is Tom Jonah!" cried Tess, with delight.
From around the corner of the woodshed appeared the big, shaggy dog. He cocked one ear and actually smiled when he saw the cat go up the tree. But he trotted right up on the porch to meet the delighted girls.
His brown eyes were deep pools where golden sparks played. The mud had been mostly shaken off his flanks and paws. He was rested, and he acted as though he were sure of his position here at the old Corner House.
"Good old fellow!" cried Tess, putting out a hand to pat him.
At once Tom Jonah put up his right paw to shake hands. He repeated the feat with Dot the next moment, to the delight of both girls.
"He's just what his collar says; he's a gentleman," sighed Tess, happily. "Oh! I hope his folks won't ever come after him."
Ruth had to come down for Tess and Dot or they would not have been bathed and dressed in time for breakfast. The smaller girls were very much taken with Tom Jonah.
They found that he had more accomplishments than "shaking hands." When Agnes came down and heard about his first manifestation of education, she tried him at other "stunts."
He sat up at the word of command. He would hold a bit of meat, or a sweet cracker, on his nose any length of time you might name, and never offer to eat it until you said, "Now, sir!" or something of the kind. Then Tom Jonah would jerk the tidbit into the air and catch it in his jaws as it came down.
And those jaws! Powerful indeed, despite some of the teeth having been broken and discolored by age. For Tom Jonah was no puppy. Uncle Rufus declared him to be at least twelve years old, and perhaps more than that.
But he had the physique of a lion--a great, broad chest, and muscles in his shoulders that slipped under the skin when he was in action like a tiger's. Now that he was somewhat rested from the long journey he had evidently taken, he seemed a very powerful, healthy dog.