Solon stopped short, listened for a moment with uplifted paw, and then with a series of little joyful barks ran back towards the boy.
Aleko stooped, and catching him up by the middle of his well-fed, white little body tucked him under his arm.
“You little rascal! What do you mean by rooting in the rubbish? Have you not enough to eat in your house? I should be glad to have your luck.”
Two little ears were cocked on one side of Aleko’s arm and a short tail wagged frantically on the other.
“I wonder how it happens that you are out alone? Has Anneza lost you?”
Just then, coming out on the Kolonaki Square, Aleko descried a young woman carrying a basket, who was looking all around her and peering under the bushes of the enclosure seemingly in great distress. He put his fingers to his mouth and whistled sharply.
“Anneza! Eh! Here is your dog! It is I who have him!”
The young woman wheeled around and came rapidly towards him. She was pretty, with black hair and a big white apron crossed over a pink cotton frock.
“Do you not feed him enough?” Aleko asked her as he put down the dog. “I found him in my street with his nose in the rubbish tin.”
“Feed him, indeed?” snorted the young woman, “he has of the best. If all poor people fared as he does, it would be well. The master is so fond of him he fears lest the wind should blow or the rain should drop on his body. He often comes himself into the kitchen to see what I give him to eat. But all the same the dirty dog is always grubbing in the rubbish tins. When I take him out he is always straying and making me go cold with fright for fear the ‘boya’[3] should catch him.”