“Bruno,” said Lorenzo, “what is the matter with you?”
Bruno went to the door of the closet where the bowl had been kept. The door was open a little way. Bruno insinuated his nose into the crevice, and so pushing the door open, he went in. As soon as he was in he began to bark again.
“Bruno!” exclaimed Lorenzo, “what is the matter with you?”
Bruno looked up on the shelf where the bowl was usually placed, and barked louder than ever.
“Where’s my bowl?” exclaimed Lorenzo, looking at the vacant place, and beginning to feel alarmed. “Where’s my bowl?”
He spoke in a tone of great astonishment and alarm. He looked about on all the shelves; the bowl was nowhere to be seen.
“Where can my bowl be gone to?” said he, more and more frightened. He went out of the closet into the kitchen, and looked all about there for his bowl. Of course, his search was vain. Bruno followed him all the time, barking incessantly, and looking up very eagerly into Lorenzo’s face with an appearance of great excitement.
“Bruno,” said Lorenzo, “you know something about it, I am sure, if you could only tell.”
The wind-mill.