of dogs who made the Out-of-doors
And fashioned mutts to gambol on all fours,
Grant us a respite from the city's stones!
Grant us a grassy place to bury bones!--A
grassy spot to roll on now and then,
Oh, Lord of dogs who also fashioned men,
Accept our thanks for this brief breath of air,
And grant, Oh, Lord, a humble mongrel's prayer!'

* * * * *

The hoboe, sprawling, scratches in the sun;
While 'round and 'round the happy mongrels run."

"Good Heavens," breathed Neville, "that sort of thing may be modern and
strong, but it's too rank for me, Valerie. Shall we bolt?"

"I--I think we'd better," she said miserably. "I don't think I care
for--for these interesting people very much."

They rose and passed slowly along the walls of the room, which were hung
with "five-minute sketches," which probably took five seconds to
conceive and five hours to execute--here an unclothed woman, chiefly
remarkable for an extraordinary development of adipose tissue and
house-maid's knee; here a pathological gem that might have aptly
illustrated a work on malformations; yonder a dashing dab of balderdash,
and next it one of Rackin's masterpieces, flanked by a gem of Stanley
Pooks.

In the centre of the room, emerging from a chunk of marble, the back and
neck and one ear of an unclothed lady protruded; and the sculptured
achievement was labelled, "Beatrice Andante."

"Oh, Lord," whispered Neville, repressing a violent desire to laugh.
"Beatrice and Aunty! I didn't know he had one."

"Is it Dante's Beatrice, Kelly? Where is Dante and his Aunty?"

"God knows. They made a mess of it anyway, those two--andante--which I
suppose this mess in marble symbolises. Pity he didn't have an aunty to
tell him how."

"Louis! How irreverent!" she whispered, eyes sparkling with laughter.

"Shall I try a five-minute fashionable impromptu, dear?" he asked:

"If Dante'd had an Aunty
Who ante-dated Dante
And scolded him
And tolded him
The way to win a winner,
It's a cinch or I'm a sinner,
He'd have taken Trix to dinner,
He'd have given her the eye
Of the fish about to die,
And folded her,
And moulded her
Like dough within a pie--
sallow, pallid pie--
And cooked a scheme to marry her,
And hired a hack to carry her
To stately Harlem-by-the-Bronx,
Where now the lonely taxi honks--"

"Kelly!" she gasped.

They both were laughing so that they hastened the