"I am fighting!" was the proud reply; "but I don't know that it is any
of your business."

"Oh, I have no desire to mix in," said the good-natured giraffe. "I
never take sides in terrestrial strife. Still, as that is my foot, I
think--"

"Eh!" cried the poodle, backing some distance away and gazing upward,
shading his eyes with his paw. "You don't mean to say--by Jove it's a
fact! Well, that beats _me_! A beast of such enormous length--such
preposterous duration, as it were--I wouldn't have believed it! Of
course I can't quarrel with a non-resident; but why don't you have a
local agent on the ground?"

The reply was probably the wisest ever made; but it has not descended
to this generation. It had so very far to descend.




CXXIV.


A dog having got upon the scent of a deer which a hunter had been
dragging home, set off with extraordinary zeal. After measuring off a
few leagues, he paused.

"My running gear is all right," said he; "but I seem to have lost my
voice."