that my dog-boy returned next day to his father, who proved to be in
service next door. He was succeeded by a smart little fellow, well-
dressed and scrupulously clean, but quite above his profession. It
seemed absurd to expect him to wash a dog, so, on the demise of his
grandmother, or some other suitable occasion, he left me to find more
congenial service elsewhere as a dressing-boy. My next was a charity
boy, the son of an ancient ghorawalla. His father had been a
faithful servant, and as regards domestic discipline, no one could
say he spared the rod and spoiled the child. On the contrary, as
Shelley, I think, expresses it,


"He spoilt the rod and did not spare the child."


But if my last Boy had been above his work, this one proved to be
below it. You could not easily have disinfected any dog which he had
been allowed to handle. I tried to cure him, but nothing short of
boiling in dilute carbolic acid would have purified him, and even
then the effect would, I feel sure, have been only temporary. So he
returned to his stable litter and I engaged another. This was a
sturdy little man, with a fine, honest-looking face. He had a dash
of Negro blood in him, and wore a most picturesque head-dress. In
fact I felt that, aesthetically, he raised the tone of my house. He
was hardworking, too, and would do anything he was told, so that I
seemed to have nothing to wish for now but that he might not grow old
too soon. But, alas! I started on an excursion one night, leaving
him in charge of my birds. He promised to attend to them faithfully,
and having seen me off, started on an excursion of his own, from
which he did not get back till three o'clock next day. I arrived at