extremely fond of his master, and never happy unless with him. His
master returned his affection warmly, and the two were close
companions; went out for long walks together, when it was not too hot;
had their meals together, and would have shared the same room in the
bungalow, had it not been that Jinks had a most unpleasant smell at
times, which civilization could not dispel, and which made it quite
impossible for him to be kept indoors at night. Indeed, there were
times when this unpleasant odor was so manifest in the daytime, that
Jinks was sent to his kennel in disgrace.

He always felt the disgrace keenly, and, although he invariably went
at once when he was told, he did so under protest, with his bushy tail
and dog-like head held down in a shamefaced manner, and a peculiar
gleam in his eyes which spoke not only of shame, but of anger, only
kept under through force of discipline. For his master, understanding
his nature, had never allowed Jinks for one moment to get the better
of him or disobey him in the smallest thing, and Jinks knew too well
how a certain small dog-whip felt to wish for any more of it. He had
been a pup up to this time, and just as full of wickedness and
mischief as he could be.

The occupants of the bungalow had gone through the same experiences--
somewhat worse, perhaps--as most people have who bring up a puppy by
hand, and had not only found all kinds of small garments strewed about
indiscriminately, dragged out and pulled to pieces, but had at times
lost articles altogether. Occasionally, a few particles would be found
in Jinks' kennel, but Jinks never appeared to know anything about
them, and, in answer to their accusations and scoldings, only put on a
quizzical, enquiring air, as though he really had not the least idea
what they were talking about. Even when caught in the very act, he