throwing it up to bark, and sinking it yet lower when he growled, which
was seldom, and to those that loved him indicated great trouble. He did
not like Snootie raise himself on his hindlegs to caress his sister,
but gently subsided upon her feet, and there lay panting, his face to
the earth, and his fore-arms crossed beneath his nose.

Kirsty stooped, and stroked and patted him as if he were the dog he
seemed fain to be. Then drawing her feet from under him, she rose, and
going a little way up the hill to the hut, returned presently with a
basin full of rich-looking milk, and _a quarter_ of thick oat-cake,
which she had brought from home in the morning. The milk she set beside
her as she resumed her seat. Then she put her feet again under the
would-be dog, and proceeded to break small pieces from the oat-cake and
throw them to him. He sought every piece eagerly as it fell, but with
his mouth only, never moving either hand, and seemed to eat it with a
satisfaction worthy of his simulated nature. When the oat-cake was
gone, she set the bowl before him, and he drank the milk with care and
neatness, never putting a hand to steady it.

'Now you must have a sleep, Steenie!' said his sister.

She rose, and he crawled slowly after her up the hill on his hands and
knees. All the time he kept his face down, and, his head hanging toward
the earth, his long hair hid it quite. He strongly suggested a great
Skye-terrier.

When they reached the hut, Kirsty went in, and Steenie crept after her.
They had covered the floor of it with heather, the stalks set upright
and close packed, so that, even where the bells were worn off, it still
made a thick long-piled carpet, elastic and warm. When the door was