fish-bone. "I have a little dawg, sir," says he.

"You can't keep him," says "Mr. Wyndham, sir," very short.

"'Es only a puppy, sir," says my new Master; "'e wouldn't go outside
the stables, sir."

"It's not that," says "Mr. Wyndham, sir;" "I have a large kennel of
very fine dogs; they're the best of their breed in America. I don't
allow strange dogs on the premises."

The Master shakes his head, and motions me with his cap, and I crept
out from behind the door. "I'm sorry, sir," says the Master. "Then I
can't take the place. I can't get along without the dog, sir."

"Mr. Wyndham, sir," looked at me that fierce that I guessed he was
going to whip me, so I turned over on my back and begged with my legs
and tail.

"Why, you beat him!" says "Mr. Wyndham, sir," very stern.

"No fear!" the Master says, getting very red. "The party I bought him
off taught him that. He never learnt that from me!" He picked me up
in his arms, and to show "Mr. Wyndham, sir," how well I loved the
Master, I bit his chin and hands.

"Mr. Wyndham, sir," turned over the letters the Master had given him.
"Well, these references certainly are very strong," he says. "I guess
I'll let the dog stay this time. Only see you keep him away from the
kennels--or you'll both go."