"Take it into the boat with you." said the Master. "That's all.
Goodbye. See you at the Beauville show."

Waiting only for the canoe and its four vociferous occupants to
start safely from shore, the Master returned to the house; Lad at
his heels; pursued by a quadruple avalanche of abuse from the
damp trespassers.

"There'll be a comeback of some kind to this, Laddie," he told
the collie, as they moved on. "I don't know just what it'll be.
But those two worthy youths didn't look at all lovingly at us.
And there's nothing else in country life so filthily mean as an
evicted trespasser. Don't let's say anything to the Mistress
about it, Lad. It'd only worry her! And--and she'll think I ought
to have invited all those panhandlers up to the house to get dry.
Perhaps she'd be right, too. She generally is."

A week later, Lad received a summons that made his heart sink.
For he knew precisely what it foretold. He was called to the
bathroom; where awaited him a tub half full of warm water.

Now, baths were no novelty to Lad. But when a bath tub contained
certain ingredients from boxes on the dog-closet
shelf,--ingredients that fluff the coat and burnish it and make
all its hairs stand out like a Circassian Beauty's, that meant
but one thing.

It meant a dog-show was at hand.