Florian Read Online Free PDF Page A

is that game warden, Woinovich, down in the village.” He hesitated for a moment.
    â€œWell, and—?” Voggenberger had demanded.
    â€œHis cat has lost all her kittens except one . . . he could put this little one with the mother cat. . . .” Anton’s face shone.
    â€œAll right,” Voggenberger said. On his palm he had carried the little bundle of fluff from the kitchen into the stable, to Maya. Anton had hidden Bosco under his coat and accompanied Voggenberger, who said on the way: “I’ll call your attention to the fact, Pointner, that this last one is a female . . . if she lives, her name is Faline. Don’t forget.”
    Thus Anton had saved the lives of the two puppies. For the matter with Game Warden Woinovich and his cat was easily arranged.
    Anton had carried little Bosco to his room. There he had procured a milk bottle with a rubber nipple and thus replaced the mother. The tiny fellow, soon over his blindness, grew fast and pleased Anton no end. By day as well as by night Anton let him sleep in his bed. Sometimes he carried him around sheltered between his shirt and his coat; he liked to feel the warmth of the restive little body against his own, knew when Bosco slept there peacefully, and laughed when he curiously stuck his head out from under and gnawed at Anton’s hands or anything else within reach of his needle-sharp teeth.
    By and by Bosco had begun to wriggle so, in his place between Anton’s shirt and coat, that he had to be scolded. But one day when Anton was wandering through the enclosure of the stallions he had seen Herr Voggenberger’s Maya playing with her offspring among the horses. Grabbing hold of one of the puppies, he had, with a feeling tantamount to motherly pride, established the fact that Bosco was a little bigger and that his distended little milk-belly was fuller and smoother.
    Later, outside with Sibyl and Florian, the frisky little dog had once more begun to struggle, and Anton had to open the two lower buttons of his coat. Bosco fell to the ground, rolled over and suddenly, to his own consternation, found himself standing on his own legs; slowly and with growing curiosity he raised his head and began to inspect the world.
    Thus did Bosco appear among the Lipizzans.
    It was a mild November day. In from the sea came a faint sirocco, and the sun, although pale, was warm and pleasant.
    Bosco blinked and sneezed, and his expressive face seemed to say: “What shall I do now?” Like any other creature, particularly a very young one, when confronted with a realm of infinite possibilities, he could not reach a decision.
    Suddenly Florian, who stood near where Bosco had fallen, gave a jump. He had been startled by Bosco’s sudden appearance because heretofore he had seen dogs only from afar, or else been too young to notice them at close range. So from sheer surprise he jumped with stiff legs into the air. Bosco greeted this spectacle with one shrill yelp. It sounded like a child soprano emitting a shout of joy.
    Florian and Bosco stared at each other.
    Bosco’s eyes beheld a gigantic creature, a monster, a fabulous something. Yet he was not afraid for a single moment. He felt curiosity, nothing but curiosity.
    Before Florian, on the other hand, stood an incongruous, energetic little ball—all white, with two black spots around the eyes, and a forehead and ears separated by a thin white line running from the top of his head down to the pink nose.
    Neither of them—neither Bosco nor Florian—knew he himself was white. Nor cared.
    It was strange, however, that at sight of the little creature Florian felt a slight aversion and for the first time in his life a sensation akin to fear.
    Just then Bosco ceased to consider what to do first. He rushed at Florian, yelping and yowling playfully.
    Florian turned tail and ran.
    Bosco chased after him, and Anton’s “Florian! Bosco!” did not do a