A fiery dragon could not have frightened the little boy so much as did the little dog in this place. “Bellissima in the street, and not dressed!” as the old lady called it; “what would be the end of this?”
The dog never went out in winter, unless she was attired in a little lambskin coat which had been made for her; it was fastened round the little dog’s neck and body with red ribbons, and was decorated with rosettes and little bells. The dog looked almost like a little kid when she was allowed to go out in winter, and trot after her mistress. And now here she was in the cold, and not dressed. Oh, how would it end? All his fancies were quickly put to flight; yet he kissed the Metal Pig once more, and then took Bellissima in his arms. The poor little thing trembled so with cold, that the boy ran homeward as fast as he could.
“What are you running away with there?” asked two of the police whom he met, and at whom the dog barked. “Where have you stolen that pretty dog?” they asked; and they took it away from him.
“Oh, I have not stolen it; do give it to me back again,” cried the boy, despairingly.
“If you have not stolen it, you may say at home that they can send to the watch-house for the dog.” Then they told him where the watch-house was, and went away with Bellissima.