faithful arms,--arms that had never failed her yet. She half opened her
eyes, and seeing that she was safe on her beloved Timothy's shoulder,
clasped her dimpled arms tight about his neck, and with a long sigh
drifted off again into the land of dreams. Bending beneath her weight,
he stepped for the last time across the threshold, not even daring to
close the door behind him.

Up the alley and round the corner he sped, as fast as his trembling legs
could carry him. Just as he was within sight of the goal of his
ambition, that is, the chariot aforesaid, he fancied he heard the sound
of hurrying feet behind him. To his fevered imagination the tread was
like that of an avenging army on the track of the foe. He did not dare
to look behind. On! for the clothes-basket and liberty! He would
relinquish the Japanese umbrella, the cookies, the comb, and the
apron,--all the booty, in fact,--as an inducement for the enemy to
retreat, but he would never give up the prisoner.

On the feet hurried, faster and faster. He stooped to put Gay in the
basket, and turned in despair to meet his pursuers, when a little,
grimy, rough-coated, lop-eared, split-tailed thing, like an animated
rag-bag, leaped upon his knees; whimpering with joy, and imploring, with
every grace that his simple doggish heart could suggest, to be one of
the eloping party.

Rags had followed them!

Timothy was so glad to find it no worse that he wasted a moment in
embracing the dog, whose delirious joy at the prospect of this probably
dinnerless and supperless expedition was ludicrously exaggerated. Then
he took up the rope and trundled the chariot gently down a side street