deep into the silences as her fat brain wrought over the
suggestion. Then--

"Maybe you HAVE got just a few grains of sense, after all, Ed,"
grudgingly vouchsafed Mrs. Hazen. "It isn't a bad idea. Only
he'll grieve a lot for her."

"He'll be hoping, though," said her husband. "He'll be hoping all
the while. That always takes the razor-edge off of grieving.
Leave it to me."

That was the happiest day Dick Hazen had ever known. And it was
the first actively happy day in all Lass's five months of life.

Boy and dog spent hours in a ramble through the woods. They began
Lass's education--which was planned to include more intricate
tricks than a performing elephant and a troupe of circus dogs
could hope to learn in a lifetime. They became sworn chums. Dick
talked to Lass as if she were human. She amazed the enraptured
boy by her cleverness and spirits. His initiation to the dog-
masters' guild was joyous and complete.

It was a tired and ravenous pair of friends who scampered home at
dinner-time that evening. The pallor was gone from Dick's face.
His cheeks were glowing, and his eyes shone. He ate greedily. His
parents looked covertly at each other. And the self-complacency
lines around Hazen's mouth blurred.

Boy and dog went to bed early, being blissfully sleepy and full
of food--also because another and longer woodland ramble was