asthmatic voice.

"Oh, nassy dray bid Horror!" cried his mistress, turning quickly at this
sound and waving a pink parasol at Clematis. "Shoo! DIRTY dog! Go 'way!"
And she was able somehow to connect him with the wash-tub and boiler,
for she added, "Nassy laundrymans to have bad doggies!"

Mr. Watson rushed upon Clematis with angry bellowings and imaginary
missiles. "You disgusting brute!" he roared. "How DARE you?"

Apparently much alarmed, Clematis lowered his ears, tucked his tail
underneath him, and fled to the rear, not halting once or looking back
until he disappeared round the corner whence he had come. "There!" said
Mr. Watson. "I guess HE won't bother us again very soon!"

It must be admitted that Milady was one of those people who do not mind
being overheard, no matter what they say. "Lucky for us," she said,
"we had a nice dray bid MANS to protect us, wasn't it, Flopit?" And
she thought it necessary to repeat something she had already made
sufficiently emphatic.

"Nassy laundrymans!"

"I expect I gave that big mongrel the fright of his life," said Mr.
Watson, with complacency. "He'll probably run a mile!"

The shoulders of Genesis shook as he was towed along by the convulsive
tub. He knew from previous evidence that Clematis possessed both a high
quality and a large quantity of persistence, and it was his hilarious
opinion that the dog had not gone far. As a matter of fact, the head