Tuesday, October 29, 2013

Chapter Three, Page Twelve

That black dog persists in sticking his nose through the white sticks around my meadow. I warn him over and over again but he does not listen. Perhaps he is a simpleton, like the yellow one. Each time I bark at the black dog, she raises her hackles and jumps on me! She is lucky I am a benevolent king.

My person seems very tired as of late. I hope she is not feeling unwell. She went away in the wagon without me again and did not come back until the evening. I shall go lay down beside her and check to see if she is ill. 

Your worried king, 
Boo Radley

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