where he went, and Uncle Carey called him the "funeral dog" and
said he was doubtless looking for his dead master. Satan even made
friends with a scrawny little yellow dog that followed an old
drunkard around--a dog that, when his master fell in the gutter,
would go and catch a policeman by the coat-tail, lead the officer
to his helpless master, and spend the night with him in jail.

By and by Satan began to slip out of the house at night, and Uncle
Billy said he reckoned Satan had "jined de club"; and late one
night, when he had not come in, Uncle Billy told Uncle Carey that
it was "powerful slippery and he reckoned they'd better send de
kerridge after him"--an innocent remark that made Uncle Carey send
a boot after the old butler, who fled chuckling down the stairs,
and left Uncle Carey chuckling in his room.

Satan had "jined de club"--the big club--and no dog was too lowly
in Satan's eyes for admission; for no priest ever preached the
brotherhood of man better than Satan lived it--both with man and
dog. And thus he lived it that Christmas night--to his sorrow.

Christmas Eve had been gloomy--the gloomiest of Satan's life.
Uncle Carey had gone to a neighboring town at noon. Satan had
followed him down to the station, and when the train started,
Uncle Carey had ordered him to go home. Satan took his time about
going home, not knowing it was Christmas Eve. He found strange
things happening to dogs that day. The truth was, that policemen
were shooting all dogs found that were without a collar and a
license, and every now and then a bang and a howl somewhere would
stop Satan in his tracks. At a little yellow house on the edge of
town he saw half a dozen strange dogs in a kennel, and every now