perplexities in a long and lugubrious howl, to which certainly none who
heard it could have desired addition or multiplication.

"Stop this instant, sir,--stop; I shoot you! You are dead,--down!"
Waife adjusted his staff to his shoulder gun-wise; and at the word of
command, "Down," Mop was on his side, stiff and lifeless. "Still," said
Waife, "a name connected with profound calculation would be the most
appropriate; for instance, Sir Isaac--"

Before the. Comedian could get out the word Newton, Mop had sprung to
his four feet, and, with wagging tail and wriggling back, evinced a sense
of beatified recognition.

"Astounding!" said Waife, rather awed. "Can it be the name?
Impossible. Sir Isaac, Sir Isaac!"

"Bow-wow!" answered Mop, joyously.

"If there be any truth in the doctrine of metempsychosis," faltered
Gentleman Waife, "if the great Newton could have transmigrated into that
incomparable animal! Newton, Newton!" To that name Mop made no
obeisance, but, evidently still restless, walked round the room, smelling
at every corner, and turning to look back with inquisitive earnestness at
his new master.

"He does not seem to catch at the name of Newton," said Waife, trying it
thrice again, and vainly, "and yet he seems extremely well versed in the
principle of gravity. Sir Isaac!" The dog bounded towards him, put his
paws on his shoulder, and licked his face. "Just cut out those figures
carefully, my dear, and see if we can get him to tell us how much twice