d--- dog now!"

So, religiously, every evening, my uncle would fasten a long chain to
that poor dog, and drag him away from his happy home with the idea of
exhausting him; and the dog would come back as fresh as paint, my
uncle behind him, panting and clamoring for brandy.

My uncle said he should never have dreamed there could have been such
stirring times in this prosaic nineteenth century as he had, training
that dog.

Oh, the wild, wild scamperings over the breezy common--the dog trying
to catch a swallow, and my uncle, unable to hold him back, following
at the other end of the chain!

Oh, the merry frolics in the fields, when the dog wanted to kill a
cow, and the cow wanted to kill the dog, and they each dodged round my
uncle, trying to do it!

And, oh, the pleasant chats with the old ladies when the dog wound the
chain into a knot around their legs, and upset them, and my uncle had
to sit down in the road beside them, and untie them before they could
get up again!

But a crisis came at last. It was a Saturday afternoon--uncle being
exercised by dog in usual way--nervous children playing in road, see
dog, scream, and run--playful young dog thinks it a game, jerks chain
out of uncle's grasp, and flies after them--uncle flies after dog,
calling it names--fond parent in front garden, seeing beloved children
chased by savage dog, followed by careless owner, flies after uncle,