198 Pomposity.

piece of Persian embroidery was torn as we passed
through it. ‘Crash,’ and another vase was
broken, and then—then, I caught him and gave
him a terrific bite on his hind-leg. But that one
bite was enough for me. Ugh! Think of a dog
guilty of such dad éaste as that, pretending to be
a dog of breeding.

He had now jumped upon me and gave mea
slight bite on the nose, but just at that moment
my picture-mistress called him. He ran at once,
and putting his two wet paws on the beautiful
gold frame pulled himself up and into the picture
and jumped on his mistress’s lap. I was of course
very indignant with her for interfering, and run-
ning to the picture, said: .

‘“Madame, did you ever hear of ‘Woman's
Sphere’? That frame is yours. Remain in it.”
At these words, she was of course very much
ashamed of herself, and could not say one word
in answer.

And now comes the sad, sad part of my story.
When Master came in the next morning, I went
up to him like an honest dog, and explained mat-