cats around them, and female women. Why isn't a female dog--"

"That will do, Dick!" broke in his shocked mother. "Take her
away."

"I won't," said the boy, speaking very slowly, and with no
excitement at all.

A slap on the side of his head, from his mother's punitive palm,
made him stagger a little. Her hand was upraised for a second
installment of rebellion-quelling--when a slender little body
flashed through the air and landed heavily against her chest. A
set of white puppy-teeth all but grazed her wrathful red face.

Lass, who never before had known the impulse to attack, had
jumped to the rescue of the beaten youngster whom she had adopted
as her god. The woman screeched in terror. Dick flung an arm
about the furry whirlwind that was seeking to avenge his
punishment, and pulled the dog back to his side.

Mrs. Hazen's shriek, and the obbligato accompaniment of the
washerwoman, made an approaching man quicken his steps as he
strolled around the side of the house. The newcomer was Dick's
father, superintendent of the local bottling works. On his way
home to lunch, he walked in on a scene of hysteria.

"Kill her, sir!" bawled the washerwoman, at sight of him. "Kill
her! She's a mad dog. She just tried to kill Miz' Hazen!"

"She didn't do anything of the kind!" wailed Dick. "She was