re-christened the Northern Athens the Northern Constantinople, because
he thinks there are too many dogs.'

'It is good for the dog-tax,' said some one.

'Yes, if the dog-tax were not so inequitably fixed,' snapped Dr. Hansen.
'There is really no sense in a respectable old lady, who keeps a dog in
a hand-bag, having to pay as much as a man who takes pleasure in
annoying his fellow-creatures by owning a half-wild animal as big as a
little lion.'

'May I ask how you would have the dog-tax reckoned, Dr. Hansen?'

'According to weight, of course,' replied Dr. Viggo Hansen without
hesitation.

The old merchants and councillors laughed so heartily at this idea of
weighing the dogs, that the disputants at the lower end of the table,
who were still vigorously bombarding each other with unalterable
opinions, became attentive and dropped their opinions, in order to
listen to the discussion on dogs. And the question, 'Can one call a lady
a fine lady--a really fine lady--if it be known that on a steamboat she
has put her feet up on a stool, and disclosed small shoes and
embroidered stockings?' also floated away in the air, unsolved.

'You seem to be a downright hater of dogs, Dr. Hansen!' said the lady
next to him, still laughing.

'I must tell you, madam,' cried a gentleman across the table, 'that he
is terribly afraid of dogs.'