it with my muzzle, then I looked behind it. Where was the dog?
“‘Goosie,’ said Mrs. Martin, ‘it’s yourself! Evidently they had no mirrors where you came from. Listen to this,’ and she set something going on a table in the corner of the room.
“It was a man, laughing hideously, I thought. He did not stop for about five minutes. What kind of a lady was this that had things that looked and sounded like human beings and animals, but were only pieces of wood?
“‘Oh, how funny your face is, doggie,’ she said: ‘Now hear this,’ and she went to the wall and took up a queer thing, like a horn.
“‘Do you wish some scraps for the dog?’
“I pricked up my ears. It was a faint and squeaky voice, but still quite distinct. I was a very, very much astonished dog, and seeing it, she put down this curious thing and said, ‘Dog, I think you have come out of a poor family.’
“I said nothing. I still felt weak and bewildered, and she said, ‘Come out to the fresh air,’ and, taking up a hat and coat, she went out of the room and down the red staircase to the veranda.
“‘Stay here till I come back,’ she said, and I walked down to the lawn and ate some of the freshest, nicest grass blades I had ever tasted.
“Presently she returned with my breakfast, and such a breakfast! Toast crusts—nice buttered toast crusts, and little bits of bacon.
“‘Just scraps from plates,’ she said, as she put the dish down on the lawn, ‘but very good.’