guide you? You leave it to me, little un."

"Yes, Cecile, come on, for I'm most bitter cold," said Maurice.

"Stay one moment, young uns; you two ha' money, but this yere Joe
ha'n't any, I want to test that dog there. Ef I can teach the dog to
dance a little, why, I'll play my fiddle, and we'll get along fine."

In the intense excitement of seeing Toby going through his first
lesson, Maurice forgot all his cold and discomfort; he jumped to his
feet, and capered about with delight; nay, at the poor dog's awkward
efforts to steady himself on his hind legs, Maurice rolled on the
ground with laughter.

"You mustn't laugh at him," said Joe; "no dog 'ud do anythink ef he
wor laughed at. There now, that's better. I'll soon teach him a trick
or two."

It is to be doubted whether Toby would have put up with the
indignity of being forced to balance himself on the extreme point of
his body were it not for Cecile. Hitherto he had held rather the
position of director of the movements of the little party. He felt
jealous of this big boy, who had come suddenly and taken the
management of everything. When Joe caught him rather roughly by the
front paws, and tried to force him to walk about after a fashion
which certainly nature never intended, he was strongly inclined to
lay angry teeth on his arm. But Cecile's eyes said no, and poor Toby,
like many another before him, submitted tamely because of his love.
He loved Cecile, and for his love he would submit to this indignity.
The small performance over, Joe Barnes, flinging his fiddle over his