Do you think, reader, that Grumps looked at any one but Crusoe?
If you do, you are mistaken.

Grumps on that day became a regular, an incorrigible, utter, and perfect nuisance to everybody--not excepting himself, poor beast! Grumps was a dog of one idea, and that idea was Crusoe.

Out of that great idea there grew one little secondary idea, and that idea was that the only joy on earth worth mentioning was to sit on his haunches, exactly six inches from Crusoe's nose, and gaze steadfastly into his face.
Wherever Crusoe went Grumps went.

If Crusoe stopped, Grumps was down before him in an instant.

If Crusoe bounded away, which in the exuberance of his spirits he often did, Grumps was after him like a bundle of mad hair.