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TITLE: BEAUTIFUL JOE
AUTHOR: MARSHALL SAUNDERS
EBOOK: E01158 (O'Briens Book Cellar)

Beautiful Joe

by Marshall Saunders

Beautiful Joe an Autobiography
By Marshall Saunders
With an Introduction
By Hezekiah Butterworth
Of Youth's Companion
Philadelphia

To
George Thorndike Angell
President of the American Humane Education Society
The Massachusetts Society for the Prevention
Of Cruelty to Animals, and the Parent
American Band of Mercy
19 Milk St., Boston.
This Book Is Respectfully Dedicated
By the Author

PREFACE

BEAUTIFUL JOE is a real dog, and "Beautiful Joe" is his real
name. He belonged during the first part of his life to a cruel
master, who mutilated him in the manner described in the story.
He was rescued from him, and is now living in a happy home with
pleasant surroundings, and enjoys a wide local celebrity.

The character of Laura is drawn from life, and to the smallest
detail is truthfully depicted. The Morris family has its counterparts
in real life, and nearly all of the incidents of the story are founded
on fact.

THE AUTHOR.

INTRODUCTION

The wonderfully successful book, entitled "Black Beauty," came
like a living voice out of the animal kingdom. But it spake for the
horse, and made other books necessary; it led the way. After the
ready welcome that it received, and the good it has accomplished
and is doing, it follows naturally that some one should be inspired
to write a book to interpret the life of a dog to the humane feeling
of the world. Such a story we have in "Beautiful Joe."

The story speaks not for the dog alone, but for the whole animal
kingdom. Through it we enter the animal world, and are made to
see as animals see, and to feel as animals feel. The sympathetic
sight of the author, in this interpretation, is ethically the strong
feature of the book.

Such books as this is one of the needs of our progressive system of
education. The day-school, the Sunday-school, and all libraries for
the young, demand the influence that shall teach the reader how to
live in sympathy with the animal world; how to understand the
languages of the creatures that we have long been accustomed to
call "dumb," and the sign language of the lower orders of these
dependent beings. The church owes it to her mission to preach and
to teach the enforcement of the "bird's nest commandment;" the
principle recognized by Moses in the Hebrew world, and echoed
by Cowper in English poetry, and Burns in the "Meadow Mouse,"
and by our own Longfellow in songs of many keys.

Kindness to the animal kingdom is the first, or a first principle in
the growth of true philanthropy. Young Lincoln once waded across
a half-frozen river to rescue a dog, and stopped in a walk with a
statesman to put back a bird that had fallen out of its nest. Such a
heart was trained to be a leader of men, and to be crucified for a
cause. The conscience that runs to the call of an animal in distress
is girding itself with power to do manly work in the world.

The story of "Beautiful Joe" awakens an intense interest, and
sustains it through a series of vivid incidents and episodes, each of
which is a lesson. The story merits the widest circulation, and the
universal reading and response accorded to "Black Beauty." To
circulate it is to do good, to help the human heart as well as the
creatures of quick feelings and simple language.

When, as one of the committee to examine the manuscripts offered
for prizes to the Humane Society, I read the story, I felt that the
writer had a higher motive than to compete for a prize; that the
story was a stream of sympathy that flowed from the heart; that it
was genuine; that it only needed a publisher who should be able to
command a wide influence, to make its merits known, to give it a
strong educational mission.

I am pleased that the manuscript has found such a publisher, and
am sure that the issue of the story will honor the Publication
Society. In the development of the book, I believe that the humane
cause has stood above any speculative thought or interest. The
book comes because it is called for; the times demand it. I think
that the publishers have a right to ask for a little unselfish service
on the part of the public in helping to give it a circulation
commensurate with its opportunity, need, and influence.

HEZEKIAH BUTTERWORTH.

(Of the committee of readers of the prize stories offered to the
Humane Society.)

BOSTON, MASS

CONTENTS

Chapter I. ONLY A CUR
Chapter II. THE CRUEL MILKMAN
Chapter III. MY KIND DELIVERER AND MISS LAURA
Chapter IV. THE MORRIS BOYS ADD TO MY NAME
Chapter V. MY NEW HOME AND A SELFISH LADY
Chapter VI. THE FOX TERRIER BILLY
Chapter VII. TRAINING A PUPPY
Chapter VIII. A RUINED DOG
Chapter IX. THE PARROT BELLA
Chapter X. BILLY'S TRAINING CONTINUED
Chapter XI. GOLDFISH AND CANARIES
Chapter XII. MALTA THE CAT
Chapter XIII. THE BEGINNING OF AN ADVENTURE
Chapter XIV. HOW WE CAUGHT THE BURGLAR
Chapter XV. OUR JOURNEY TO RIVERDALE
Chapter XVI. DINGLEY FARM
Chapter XVII. MR. WOOD AND HIS HORSES
Chapter XVIII. MRS. WOOD'S POULTRY
Chapter XIX. A BAND OF MERCY
Chapter XX. STORIES ABOUT ANIMALS
Chapter XXI. MR. MAXWELL AND MR. HARRY
Chapter XXII. WHAT HAPPENED AT THE TEA TABLE
Chapter XXIII. TRAPPING WILD ANIMALS
Chapter XXIV. THE RABBIT AND THE HEN
Chapter XXV. A HAPPY HORSE
Chapter XXVI. THE BOX OF MONEY
Chapter XXVII. A NEGLECTED STABLE
Chapter XXVIII. THE END OF THE ENGLISHMAN
Chapter XXIX. A TALK ABOUT SHEEP
Chapter XXX. A JEALOUS OX
Chapter XXXI. IN THE COW STABLE
Chapter XXXII. OUR RETURN HOME
Chapter XXXIII. PERFORMING ANIMALS
Chapter XXXIV. A FIRE IN FAIRPORT
Chapter XXXV. BILLY AND THE ITALIAN
Chapter XXXVI. DANDY THE TRAMP
Chapter XXXVII. THE END OF MY STORY

BEAUTIFUL JOE

CHAPTER I  ONLY A CUR

MY name is Beautiful Joe, and I am a brown dog of medium size.
I am not called Beautiful Joe because I am a beauty. Mr. Morris,
the clergyman, in whose family I have lived for the last twelve
years, says that he thinks I must be called Beautiful Joe for the
same reason that his grandfather, down South, called a very ugly
colored slave-lad Cupid, and his mother Venus.

I do not know what he means by that, but when he says it, people
always look at me and smile. I know that I am not beautiful, and I
know that I am not a thoroughbred. I am only a cur.

When my mistress went every year to register me and pay my tax,
and the man in the office asked what breed I was, she said part
fox-terrier and part bull-terrier; but he always put me down a cur. I
don't think she liked having him call me a cur; still, I have heard
her say that she preferred curs, for they have more character than
well-bred dogs. Her father said that she liked ugly dogs for the
same reason that a nobleman at the court of a certain king did
namely, that no one else would.

I am an old dog now, and am writing, or rather getting a friend to
write, the story of my life. I have seen my mistress laughing and
crying over a little book that she says is a story of a horse's life,
and sometimes she puts the book down close to my nose to let me
see the pictures.

I love my dear mistress; I can say no more than that; I love her
better than any one else in the world; and I think it will please her
if I write the story of a dog's life. She loves dumb animals, and it
always grieves her to see them treated cruelly.

I have heard her say that if all the boys and girls in the world were
to rise up and say that there should be no more cruelty to animals,
they could put a stop to it. Perhaps it will help a little if I tell a
story. I am fond of boys and girls, and though I have seen many
cruel men and women, I have seen few cruel children. I think the
more stories there are written about dumb animals, the better it
will be for us.

In telling my story, I think I had better begin at the first and come
right on to the end. I was born in a stable on the outskirts of a
small town in Maine called Fairport. The first thing I remember
was lying close to my mother and being very snug and warm. The
next thing I remember was being always hungry. I had a number of
brothers and sisters six in all and my mother never had enough
milk for us. She was always half starved herself, so she could not
feed us properly.

I am very unwilling to say much about my early life. I have lived
so long in a family where there is never a harsh word spoken, and

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