four months old and has lost an eye and had a leg broken,
but he is a very good little boy all the same. He is very fond of Bonfire,
and Bonneau, and me. I go to the stable and whistle, and Bonneau and Mike
come running out squealing with joy, to go for a little walk with me.
When Mike comes to steps, he puts his feet on the lowest steps
and turns and looks at me and I lift him up. He is a dear ugly little chap.

The dogs are often to be seen sprawled on the floor of my tent.
I like to have them there for they are very home-like beasts.
They never seem French to me. Bonneau can "donner la patte"
in good style nowadays, and he sometimes curls up inside the rabbit hutch,
and the rabbits seem to like him.

I wish you could see the hundreds of rabbits there are here
on the sand-dunes; there are also many larks and jackdaws.
(These are different from your brother Jack, although they have black faces.)
There are herons, curlews, and even ducks; and the other day
I saw four young weasels in a heap, jumping over each other from side to side
as they ran.

Sir Bertrand Dawson has a lovely little spaniel, Sue, quite black,
who goes around with him. I am quite a favourite, and one day
Sir Bertrand said to me, "She has brought you a present," and here she was
waiting earnestly for me to remove from her mouth a small stone.
It is usually a simple gift, I notice, and does not embarrass by its value.

Bonfire is very sleek and trim, and we journey much. If I sit down
in his reach I wish you could see how deftly he can pick off my cap
and swing it high out of my reach. He also carries my crop;
his games are simple, but he does not readily tire of them.