"But we aren't acquainted with him like we were with Alexis," whispered
the little girl.

She knew his name was Bobo. But always before when she had seen him the
great hound, with his flappy ears and wide mouth, had been chained.

"Do--do you suppose he'll want to bite us?" quavered Mun Bun, admitting
now that he was afraid of the dog. "And what does he want here in our
house, Margy?"

Margy suddenly remembered that when she had seen Bobo before he had been
chained right at this little house. Maybe it was his house, although it
was bigger than any doghouse she had ever seen before.

"We don't want him in here," cried Mun Bun. "There isn't any room for
him." Then he cried to the big hound: "Go 'way! You'll spoil our
Christmas tree."

The big hound came nearer, but more quietly. His eyes were red, and he
sniffed enquiringly at the doorway while the children crowded back
against the tree. Perhaps he was the very kindest dog in the world; but
to Mun Bun and Margy he appeared to be dreadfully savage!

"Go 'way!" they shouted in chorus. And Mun Bun added again: "We don't
want him in here, do we, Margy?"

The dog seemed determined to thrust himself into the house. Perhaps
Bobo felt about Mun Bun and Margy as they did about him--that they had
no right there, and he wanted them to get out. And when he put his great