“You remind me of that white shadow with little liver spots that my spaniel dog and I picked up one night when we were going home.
“‘Master,’ he said, ‘there’s such an amusing cur out there in the middle of the road.’
“‘Behave yourself! Don’t pick up with anything you come across like this!’
“‘Master, I know it is a thin and dirty cur, but the creature follows me.’
“‘Keep to heel! The poor dog will get lost if you entice him far from home.’
“‘Oh, master! that’s just what’s so amusing. He hasn’t any.’
“And like a little ghost the white dog crept along behind. We looked to read his collar; it was gone. We took him home—and how he ate, and how he drank! But my spaniel said to me:
“‘Master, what is the use of bringing in a dog like this? Can’t you see what he is like? He has eaten all my meat, drunk my bowl dry, and he is now sleeping in my bed.’
“I said to him: ‘My dear, you ought to like to give this up to this poor dog.’
“And he said to me: ‘Master, I don’t! He is no good, this dog; I am cleaner and fatter than he. And don’t you know there’s a place on the other side of the water for all this class of dog? When are we going to take him there?’