"Why," said Stevens when the other paused for breath, "your dog's mad."
"Mad! Mad! You double-dyed blankety-blank fool, he ain't mad!"
"Oh, ain't he?" cut in Stevens. "Gosh! I should be if any one kicked me like that!"
One would have it that a collie is the most sagacious of dogs, while the other stood up for the setter.
"I once owned a setter," declared the latter, "which was very intelligent. I had him on the street one day, and he acted so queerly about a certain man we met that I asked the man his name, and—"
"Oh, that's an old story!" the collie's advocate broke in sneeringly. "The man's name was Partridge, of course, and because of that the dog came to a set. Ho, ho! Come again!"
"You're mistaken," rejoined the other suavely. "The dog didn't come quite to a set, though almost. As a matter of fact, the man's name was Quayle, and the dog hesitated on account of the spelling!"—P. R. Benson.
The more one sees of men the more one likes dogs.