dog who had been in the habit of going every morning to a certain baker's shop with a penny in his mouth, in exchange for which he always received a penny bun. One day, the

eet with, "Oh, I must tell you!-such a capital story!" And he thereupon proceeds to relate to you, with much spirit and gusto, one of Noah's best known jokes, or some story that Romulus

astrophes that would seem either to have occurred to, or to have been witnessed by, nearly every one you meet. I never came across a man yet who had not seen some other man jerked

wever, she charges into the wrong room, and, rolling down the bedclothes, presses it lovingly upon the wrong man. I have heard that story so often that I am quite nervous about going to bed in an hotel now. Each man w

her-in-law, and was hurt when Jephson murmured, sotto voce, that that made the twenty-eighth man he had met w

a wicked thing to start dog stories among a party of average sinful men. Let one man

sh, a good and pious man, came to sit with him, and, thinking to cheer him up, told him an anecdote about a dog. When the pas

fell back upon the pillows, and the doctor, stepping

oor fellow's hand in his, and pressed it

wards him with a conso

that," he feebly murmured.

ly away, with a sweet s

of us did not feel equal to settling anybody just then. We were thinking of all the true dog sto

uded a long discourse-to which nobody had listened-by remarking with some pride, "What more

ng his chair a little nearer the table, "that puts me in mind. Di

the bull-dog, is it?" q

ed MacShaughnassy, "but I don't t

rgue the matter would only prolon

me to the conclusion that it was time he laid down a dog. He thought a bull-dog would be the best

e not going to let that brute loose about the house!' she

dy,' replied my father; 'I

e mater; 'it's not like you. We've a right to protect our prope

when they've no business there,' retorted my father, somewhat testily. 'I'm going to fix

d thought the mater absurdly sentimental, and the mater thought the dad unne

Thomas, there's a burglar downstairs, I'm posi

ow, then,' murmured my father, who

here while a fellow-creature is being murdered by a savage

noises. I believe that's all you women come to bed for-to sit up and listen for burgl

the kitchen. My father crept softly forward, and peeped through the partly open door. There sat the burglar, eating cold beef and pickles, an

ken aback that he fo

a word that I should not ca

t clear off by the window; and the dog seemed

dog back to the trainer

this dog for?' asked my fat

ainer, 'you said you wa

og who'd chum on with a burglar the first time he ever came to the house, and sit with him while he had su

It was my boy Jim as trained this 'ere dawg, and I guess the young beggar's taught 'im more abo

nd of the time the train

man. ''E ain't what I call an intellectual dawg,

ow while the trainer held the dog by a chain. The dog remained perfectly quiet until the man was fairly inside. Then h

in peace; and the mater's alarm for the safety of

me there could be no doubt that the dog was doing something for his living. The din

. The kitchen was in confusion. Tables and chairs were overturned, and on the

, by superhuman effort, dragged our preserver away, an

the gentleman on the flo

father, dropping the revolve

ut not unnatural, indignation. 'Why, in the course of my dooty, that's 'ow I come 'ere.

tch him?' as

h 'im with that blasted dog of yours 'olding me down by the th

was not the animal's fault. Two men broke into the house almost at the same time. The dog could not go for both of them. He did his best, and went for one. Tha

ek he inserted an advertisement in The Field, in which the animal was recommended as a

ver in the Strand one day and its leg broken. A medical student, who was passing at the time, picked it up and carried it to the Cha

t, and had been the most grateful patient they had ever had i

coming down the street. When it came near he noticed that it had a penny in its mouth. A cat

t up to the hospital railings, and raising himself upon his

as a poor outcast, vagrant thing, that had perhaps never possessed a penny before in all its life, and might never have anoth

on the novel, but I did not quite see the fairnes

ever permitted himself to possess one, which is doubtful, having regard to his aggressively independent character), and was now running himself entirely on h

and make his own coffee, so as to be down at the works by six. At eight-thirty he would breakfast in a more sensible fashion wi

dy ever knew. Gadbut swore that twice he had met him coming out of a stockbroker's office in Threadneedle Street, and, improbable though the statement at

ith a great sense of his own dignity; yet, on the promise of a penny, I have seen hi

ing them, and when he had completed his programme he would sit up and beg. All th

The poodle stood on his head, and then, with his hind legs in the air, walked round on his front paws. The people

, and the first evening he did so he made sixpence. It must have been terribly hard work for him at his age, and subject to r

ld snatch at the threepence, and then break his heart because he could not get the penny in as well. You might s

made a frantic and frequently successful effort to get off with the cake and the penny also. His plan of operations was simple. He would walk into the shop with his penny in his mouth, well displayed, and a sweet and lamblike expr

he coin. The man would try to pick it up. The dog would put his foot upon it, and growl savagely. If he could finish the cake before the conte

that, after a time, the majority of the local tradespeople refused to serve him at al

ere his reputation had not yet penetrated. And he would p

root of all evil. It seemed to have r

g smoking and talking; and young Hollis, being in a generous mood, had thrown him, as he thought, a sixpence. The dog grabbed it, and retired under the s

ve given that little beast h

verbal invitation would induce him to stir. So we adopted a mo

t reasonableness at first. We offered him a sixpence in exchange; he looked insulted, and evidently considered the proposa

with the exception of young Hollis, thought the affair a very good joke. He, on the contrary, se

grim death, until, feeling that his little earnings were slowly but surely going from him, he made

ident to happen to him. Hollis rushed into his room and procured a long pair of pincers, and the

m of his night's takings, and resisted vehemently. His struggles fixed the coin firmer, and

*

r in a strange old house. I don't think anybody else dwelt in the house but just we two. One day, wandering about this strange old rambling place, I discov

door, and drew the worn tapestries in front of it again, and

towards me, and we walked together wi

nseen, lest by chance he should learn the secret of t

s and along the silent corridor. The tapestry is drawn aside, and the hidden door stands open, and in the r

. I have a knife in my hand, with a strong, curved blade

ils, and scream, and the dead man grins at me. The light streams in through the chink beneath the massive door, and fades, and comes

n consequence of a headache I did not eat any dinner. So I slip on

lly it is entirely his own fault. It is he who persuades and urges me. I myself would much prefer to remain quietly in bed, and I tell him so. But he insists on my getting up at once and coming down to the theatre. I explain to him that I can't act a bit. He seems to consider this unimportant, and says, "Oh, that will be all right." We argue for a while, but he makes the matter quite a personal one, and to oblige him and get him out of t

am shivering with cold; and it is this shivering, I suppose, that causes me to dream I am wandering about the

ry wide and very long road in the East End of London. It is a curious road to find there. Omnibuses and trams pass up and down, and it is crowded with stalls and barrows, be

hing our way among the tangled vines that cling about our feet, and every now

id, though I do not know why I am afraid. It leads to a house that I once lived in

rses turn into skeletons and gallop away from me, and my feet are like lead, and the

. I recognise the rooms; I laughed and cried in them long ago. Nothing is changed. The chairs stand in their places, emp

amp above his head, and I look at his face, and it is my own face. And another enters, and he also is myself. Then more and more, till the room is thronged with faces, and the stair-way beyond, an

sh from the house in terror, and the faces follow me; and I run fa

*

the incidents of which I have had no connection whatever, except as an unseen and impotent spectator. One of these I have of

s a strange beauty in it. The flickering gleams thrown by street lamps flash

as his lips touch hers, the blood mounts to her cheeks and brow. I see the two faces again. But I cannot tell where they are or how long a time has passed. The man's face has grown a little older, but it is stil

stands in one corner, and beside it is a table on which lie scattered a tumbled mass of paper

. Its lights throw up faint beams into the dark room

window. And I notice that each time she looks towards the door the evil in her face

her face changes, and I see again the evil creature of the night. She wraps around her an old cloak, and creeps out. I hear her footsteps going down th

from out the shadows. I look upon its face, and I see it is the face that the woman's eyes gazed up into and worshipped long ago, when my dream was just begun. But the fairness and the purity are gone from it, and it is old and evil, as the woman's when I looked upon her last. The figure in the gaudy rags moves slowly on. The second figure follows it, and overtakes it. The two pause

*

ds wife or child, towards kith or kin, towards stranger or towards friend, so long will he succeed and prosper in his dealings-so long will all this world's affairs go well with him; and he will grow each day richer and greater and mo

sweetest things in all the world to him. A woman loves him and dies, thirsting for a loving look from hi

never a kindly word comes from his lips; never a kindly thought

s small, wistful face. The child loves him, as the woman, long ago, had loved him, and her ey

child's eyes open and turn towards him; and, as he draws nearer, her little arms stretch out towards him, pleading dumbly. But the man's face never changes, and the little arms fall fee

t, he steals up to the room where the child sti

s arms, and holds it tight against his breast, and kisses the c

the dead child lies always beneath the sheet in that quiet roo

Dream Fairy tells us tales we are only as little children, sitting round w

nd him. Each night he draws away the white sheet, and takes the small dead body in his arms; and through the dark hours he pa

om, he lays the dead child back again, and s

l things, and each day he grows ri