166 The Iron Dog.

“Indeed, I am. Wouldn't you be thirsty, if
you had had no water for four long weeks ?”” And
Arnold admitted that he would. So the Dog gal-
loped to a watering trough, stopping on the way
to bark at the moon, and a metallic bark it was
too. Then the drink began. ‘Gurgle, gurgle”’
went the water through the hollow body. First
the legs were filled, then the body, the head, and
then the beautiful upright tail.

“There,” said he, ‘‘that ought to last for some
time. And now for my skunk, for there is that
clock actually striking eleven already.”

‘“Oh, must you kill the skunk to-night?” said
Arnold, who did not at all like the idea.

“Certainly, I must. Do I look like one, who
having once seen a skunk, would let him live?”
said the Dog, who really seemed a boastful fellow.

“Indeed you don't,” said Arnold, heartily.

“T was almost upon him last month,” contin-
ued his friend, ‘‘when he suddenly disappeared
in a hole and I had not time to catch him.
Come.” So, swiftly galloped the Dog over
stones and bushes, Arnold with his two arms