“Rudolph,” my mistress was just saying, “I’m sleepy. I think I will go to bed.”
“Very well, darling,” he replied, and he got up and helped her out of the hammock, and opened the screen door for her.
“I think I will sit a while longer,” he said as he kissed her. “I have a little business to plan out.”
“And I have been keeping you from it by my chattering,” she said. “Why did you not ask me to keep still?”
“Because I preferred pleasure to business,” he said gallantly, and she laughed, and went to bed.
That just suited me. She would be out of the way if we wanted master, and he was sure to sit for a while, for he was a most scrupulous man about keeping his word, even to himself.
I raced after my dog-brothers. The night did not seem as dark as to human beings. Cannie was on his hind legs peering into the car, and King Harry was up on the seat, snuffing and blowing over a pair of driving gloves.
I stood and listened for a minute. What an exquisite night! The lovely misty sky spread above us was serene and comforting, the great dark earth was warm and palpitating—one could hear things growing. Talk about the quiet of the country—this country just talked, when a dog had ears to hear. The tiny growing leaves of the trees had one language, the grass had another, there was no mistake about the joy of the frogs—they were simply yelling with delight to think that summer was coming.
Just here King Harry jumped down. “I needn’t have stayed so long,” he said, “but I wanted to do some fine work.”