could most see clear through 'em, and sprinkles me over with pipe-
clay, till I shines like a Tommy's cross-belts.

"Upon my word!" says Jimmy Jocks when he first sees me. "What a swell
you are! You're the image of your grand-dad when he made his debut at
the Crystal Palace. He took four firsts and three specials." But I
knew he was only trying to throw heart into me. They might scrub, and
they might rub, and they might pipe-clay, but they couldn't pipe-clay
the insides of me, and they was black-and-tan.

Then we came to a Garden, which it was not, but the biggest hall in
the world. Inside there was lines of benches, a few miles long, and
on them sat every dog in the world. If all the dog-snatchers in
Montreal had worked night and day for a year, they couldn't have
caught so many dogs. And they was all shouting and barking and
howling so vicious, that my heart stopped beating. For at first I
thought they was all enraged at my presuming to intrude, but after I
got in my place, they kept at it just the same, barking at every dog
as he come in; daring him to fight, and ordering him out, and asking
him what breed of dog he thought he was, anyway. Jimmy Jocks was
chained just behind me, and he said he never see so fine a show.
"That's a hot class you're in, my lad," he says, looking over into my
street, where there were thirty bull-terriers. They was all as white
as cream, and each so beautiful that if I could have broke my chain,
I would have run all the way home and hid myself under the horse-
trough.

All night long they talked and sang, and passed greetings with old
pals, and the home-sick puppies howled dismal. Them that couldn't
sleep wouldn't let no others sleep, and all the electric lights