"To amuse you, dear. I know they will, if you will only try to like
them," whispered the sister, smiling and nodding over the chair-back as
she came on, adding aloud: "Such a punctual party! I am all ready,
however, and we will sit down at once. This is my brother Thornton, and
we are going to be very good friends by and by. Here's the droll dog,
Thorny; isn't he nice and curly?"

Now, Ben had heard what the other boy said, and made up his mind that
he shouldn't like him; and Thorny had decided beforehand that he
wouldn't play with a tramp, even if he _could_ cut capers; so both
looked decidedly cool and indifferent when Miss Celia introduced them.
But Sancho had better manners, and no foolish pride; he, therefore, set
them a good example by approaching the chair, with his tail waving like
a flag of truce, and politely presented his ruffled paw for a hearty
shake.

Thorny could not resist that appeal, and patted the white head, with a
friendly look into the affectionate eyes of the dog, saying to his
sister as he did so:

"What a wise old fellow he is! It seems as if he could almost speak,
doesn't it?"

"He can. Say 'How do you do,' Sanch," commanded Ben, relenting at once,
for he saw admiration in Thorny's face.

"Wow, wow, wow!" remarked Sancho, in a mild and conversational tone,
sitting up and touching one paw to his head, as if he saluted by taking
off his hat.