was that tied up in bandages he couldn't even waddle. So when he
heard that side of it, "Mr. Wyndham, sir," told us that if Nolan put
me on a chain, we could stay. So it came out all right for everybody
but me. I was glad the Master kept his place, but I'd never worn a
chain before, and it disheartened me--but that was the least of it.
For the quality-dogs couldn't forgive my whipping their champion, and
they came to the fence between the kennels and the stables, and
laughed through the bars, barking most cruel words at me. I couldn't
understand how they found it out, but they knew. After the fight
Jimmy Jocks was most condescending to me, and he said the grooms had
boasted to the kennel-men that I was a son of Regent Royal, and that
when the kennel-men asked who was my mother they had had to tell them
that too. Perhaps that was the way of it, but, however, the scandal
was out, and every one of the quality-dogs knew that I was a street-
dog and the son of a black-and-tan.

"These misalliances will occur," said Jimmy Jocks, in his old-
fashioned way, "but no well-bred dog," says he, looking most scornful
at the St. Bernards, who were howling behind the palings, "would
refer to your misfortune before you, certainly not cast it in your
face. I, myself, remember your father's father, when he made his
debut at the Crystal Palace. He took four blue ribbons and three
specials."

But no sooner than Jimmy would leave me, the St. Bernards would take
to howling again, insulting mother and insulting me. And when I tore
at my chain, they, seeing they were safe, would howl the more. It was
never the same after that; the laughs and the jeers cut into my
heart, and the chain bore heavy on my spirit. I was so sad that
sometimes I wished I was back in the gutter again, where no one was