He curled back his lips.
"You're lazy," I said. "That's all the trouble with you. Spruce up, and go trotting for a while, then run, then leap. Mr. Talker will say you've got your second wind and he'll spare you."
"But I might fall dead," he said.
"Suppose you did. There's another life for dogs, many good people say. You'll start afresh and live forever. No one could kill you if they tried."
"I like the sound of that," he said, putting his head on one side. "Perhaps I'd better just loaf along here and slip off as soon as I can."
"No, no, that won't do," I said. "While you live, live, and work and play. Don't think about death. The old reaper will do your thinking for you."
"Who's he?" he asked.
"Now you just think that out," I returned. "Your dog mind is as rusty as your dog body. Good-night, here comes my young Missy," and I stepped down to the path.
However, Miss Cassowary did not get on my back. One never knew what that girl would do.