ied to get to work afterwards, but Brown had unsettled us for the
evening. It is a wicked thing to start dog stories among a party of
average sinful men. Let one man tell a dog story, and every other man in
the room feels he wants to tell a bigger one.

There is a story going--I cannot vouch for its truth, it was told me by a
judge--of a man who lay dying. The pastor of the parish, 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 pastor had finished, the sick man sat
up, and said, "I know a better story than that. I had a dog once, a big,
brown, lop-sided--"

The effort had proved too much for his strength. He fell back upon the
pillows, and the doctor, stepping forward, saw that it was a question
only of minutes.

The good old pastor rose, and took the poor fellow's hand in his, and
pressed it. "We shall meet again," he gently said.

The sick man turned towards him with a consoled and grateful look.

"I'm glad to hear you say that," he feebly murmured. "Remind me about
that dog."

Then he passed peacefully away, with a sweet smile upon his pale lips.

Brown, who had had his dog story and was satisfied, wanted us to settle
our heroine; but the rest of us did not feel equal to settling anybody
just then. We were thinking of all the true dog stories we had ever
heard, and wondering which was the one least likely to be generally
disbelieved.

MacShaughnassy, in particular, was growing every moment more restless and
moody. Brown concluded a long discourse--to which nobody had listened--by
remarking with some pride, "What more can you want? The plot has never
been used before, and the characters are entirely original!"

Then MacShaughnassy gave way. "Talking of plots," he said, hitching his
chair a little nearer the table, "that puts me in mind. Did I ever tell
you about that dog we had when we lived in Norwood?"

"It's not that one about the bull-dog, is it?" queried Jephson anxiously.

"Well, it was a bull-dog," admitted MacShaughnassy, "but I don't think
I've ever told it you before."

We knew, by experience, that to argue the matter would only prolong the
torture, so we let him go on.

"A great many burglaries had lately taken place in our neighbourhood," he
began, "and the pater came to the conclusion that it was time he laid
down a dog. He thought a bull-dog would be the best for his purpose, and
he purchased the most sava