“Opening a drawer, she took out a big soft shawl. ‘It came from Canada,’ she said. ‘It belonged to my aunt, who liked dogs.’
“I did not know then what she meant by Canada, but I was glad to hear her aunt liked dogs, and when she went to a closet and arranged the shawl in a corner of it, I staggered after her and dropped on it.
“There were some dresses hanging over me, and I felt as if I were in an arbor like the one at the back of the café, where the men used to sit in summer over their drinks, with green leaves all round them.
“‘Happy, eh?’ she said in an amused voice, as she stood looking down at me. ‘Now for
something for the inner dog,’ and she went to a little table where there were shiny-looking dishes. She snapped another button, and presently I heard the hissing of hot water. Then she went to one of her windows, opened it, and took in a bottle.
“In a few minutes I had set before me what I never had had before, namely, a bowl of delicious bread and cream.
“I wagged my tail and agitated my muzzle. The very smell of this warm food put new life into me. Then I half raised myself on my bed, put my head in the bowl, and just gobbled.
“Talk about manners! When I look back, I wonder that Mrs. Martin was not disgusted with my greediness. But she is a very sensible woman, and she merely smiled, and, taking the bowl from me as I was trying to lick it nice and clean for her, she pushed me back on my soft shawl, with a gentle, ‘Pleasant dreams, doggie.’”