that morning, interrupting herself from time to time to glance
proudly up into her mate's face, as who should say: "See what I have
given you! Now you understand. These, my lord, are princes of your royal
blood and mine."

Neither she nor Finn could realize, of course, just why these children
of their union--their lamentable _mesalliance_, as the fanciers would
have said--were the first of their kind the world had ever seen: the
offspring of an Irish wolfhound champion and a daughter of generations
of bloodhound champions. But to Desdemona it was clear enough that a
miracle unique in history had occurred; and as for Finn, he looked and
looked, and his bowels yearned over the group at his feet even more
mightily than over Desdemona, his mate, on the previous evening.

Here certainly was food for wonder and astonishment. Two dog people had
met outside this lonely cave the night before; and here there were
seven. The new-comers were, with one exception, black and golden-brown
in color, like their mother; yet their short coats were sensibly
different from hers in texture. The exception was black as to his saddle
and head, but iron-gray for the rest, a blend one sometimes sees in
other hounds. And Finn noticed that this exception was somewhat larger
than either of his four brothers and sisters. (Two of them were
brothers, and two sisters; the black-and-gray fellow was a brother.)

Finn gently licked the round back of one of the pups. A moment before
Desdemona's tongue had crossed the same fat back. Yet its blind little
owner whimpered instant complaint at the very gentle touch of Finn's
tongue.

"Be very careful!" whined the mother.

So Finn turned to the bigger pup, the black-and-gray, and licked him
carefully. There was no sign of a whimper from this sturdy chap. On the
contrary, he wriggled over on his round back and presented his equally
round, gray belly for the same treatment. So Finn gravely licked his
largest son all over in the approved maternal fashion, while Desdemona
looked on with a quaint mixture of expressions in her pain-drawn eyes.
The mixture was of pride and jealousy, approval and solicitude,
motherhood and matehood--quite a curious little study in expression.

And then came an odd, rather touching little incident. Using infinite
care to avoid disturbing or unsettling her full-fed little ones, the
bloodhound mother slowly, gently, and with much effort, raised her
aching body from the ground and stoo