rush at a neurotic mother hen and her golden convoy of chicks.
The Mistress,--luckily for all concerned,--was within call. At
her sharp summons the puppy wheeled, midway in his charge, and
trotted back to her. Severely, yet trying not to laugh at his
worried aspect, she scolded Lad for his misdeed.

An hour later, as Lad was scampering ahead of her, past the
stables, they rounded a corner and came flush upon the same
nerve-wrecked hen and her brood. Lad halted in his scamper, with
a suddenness that made him skid. Then, walking as though on eggs,
he made an idiotically wide circle about the feathered dam and
her silly chicks. Never thereafter did he assail any of the
Place's fowls.

It was the same, when he sprang up merrily at a line of laundry,
flapping in alluring invitation from the drying ground lines. A
single word of rebuke,--and thenceforth the family wash was safe
from him.

And so on with the myriad perplexing "Don'ts" which spatter the
career of a fun-loving collie pup. Versed in the patience-fraying
ways of pups in general, the Mistress and the Master marveled and
bragged and praised.

All day and every day, life was a delight to the little dog. He
had friends everywhere, willing to romp with him. He had
squirrels to chase, among the oaks. He had the lake to splash
ecstatically in: He had all he wanted to eat; and he had all the
petting his hungry little heart could crave.