And, of course, when one of my hind legs scratched one of Potts' ears or one of his shoulders, I was perfectly satisfied--first, because that sort of thing was good for the whole dog; and, second, because the thing would get about even when Potts' head would reach around and bite a flea off my hind legs or snap at a fly.
"Well, things went along smooth enough for a while, until one day that dog began to get into the habit of running around after his tail.

He was the foolishest dog about that I ever saw.

Used to chase his tail round and round until he'd get so giddy he couldn't bark.

And you know I was scared lest it might hurt the dog's health; and as Potts didn't seem to be willing to keep his end from circulating in pursuit of my end, I made up my mind to chop the dog's tail off, so's to make him reform and behave.

So last Saturday I caused the dog to back up agin a log, and then I suddenly dropped the axe on his tail pretty close up, and the next minute he was running around that yard howling like a boat-load of wild-cats.