It is extraordinary how many things one ought to get hold of in the
country. Sometimes it is a wood-chopper and sometimes a couple of
hundred cabbages, and sometimes a cartload of manure, and sometimes a
few good hens. I find this very exhausting to the grip.

_I._ What for?

_They._ To watch your house.

_I._ I do not wish to inflict pain on a good dog. What kind of a dog
ought it to be?

_They._ Well, a mastiff.

_I._ Isn't that rather a smooth kind of dog? If I have to get hold of
a dog, I should like one with rather a rougher surface.

_They._ Try an Irish terrier.

_I._ I have. They fight.

_They._ Not unless they're provoked.

_I._ Nobody fights unless he is provoked. But more things provoke an
Irish terrier than one might imagine. The postman provoked my old one
so much that it bit the letters out of his hand and ate them.

_They._ Well, you didn't get any bills, then.