"You'd like dogs if you could have one like my old Fritz," began Lloyd,
glad of some one to talk to. Sitting down on the bench that the maid had
left, she began talking of him and the pony and the other pets at Locust,
At first the boys listened carelessly. Howell cracked his whip, and
Henderson slapped his feet with the ends of the reins he wore. They were
not used to having stories told them, except when they were being scolded,
and their mother or the maid told them tales of what happens to bad little
boys when they will not obey. Although Lloyd's wild ride in a hand-car
with one of the two little knights began thrillingly, they listened with
one foot out, ready to run at first word of the moral lecture which they
thought would surely come at the end.

The poodle had a maid to make it happy and comfortable, every moment of
its pampered little life. The boys had some one to see that they were
properly clothed and fed, and their nursery at home looked as if a toy
store had been emptied into it. But no one took any interest in their
amusement. When they asked questions the answer always was, "Oh, run along
and don't bother me now." There were no quiet bedtime talks for them to
smooth the snarls out of the day. Their mother was always dining out or
receiving company at that time, and their nurse hurried them to sleep with
threats of the bugaboos under the bed that would catch them if they were
not still. They suspected that the Little Colonel's stories would soon
lead to a lecture on quarrelling.

Presently they forgot their fears in the interest of the tale. The
youngest boy sidled a little nearer and climbed up on the end of the bench
beside her. Then Howell, dragging his whip behind him, came a step closer,
then another, till he too was on the bench beside her.

She had never had such a flattering audience. They never took their eyes