blinds for the day; his habit, when you ARE out, of sitting up on
his back legs and begging you with his front paws to come and DO
something--a trick entirely of his own invention, for no one would
think of teaching him anything; his funny nautical roll when he
walks, which is nearly a swagger, and gives him always the air of
having just come back from some rather dashing adventure; beyond all
this there is still something. And whatever it is, it is something
which every now and then compels you to bend down and catch hold of
his long silky ears, to look into his honest eyes and say--

"You silly old ass! You DEAR old SILLY old ass!"







BETTY

THE HOTEL CHILD





I WAS in the lounge when I made her acquaintance, enjoying a pipe
after tea, and perhaps--I don't know--closing my eyes now and then.

"Would you like to see my shells?" she asked suddenly.