ondered whether he knew anything about it.
Hamlet, in spite of his mongrel appearance, was a very clever dog. He
had his especial corners in the garden, the kitchen and the nursery. He
never misbehaved, was never in the way, and was able to amuse himself
for hours together. Although he attached himself quite deliberately to
Jeremy, he did this in no sentimental fashion, and in his animosities
towards the Jampot, Aunt Amy and the boy who helped with the boots and
the knives, he was always restrained and courteous. He did indeed
growl at Aunt Amy, but always with such a sense of humour that everyone
(except Aunt Amy) was charmed, and he never actually supported the
children in their rebellions against the Jampot, although you could see
that he liked and approved of such things. The Jampot hated him with a
passion that caused the nursery to quiver with emotion. Was he not the
cause of her approaching departure, his first appearance having led her
into a tempest of passion that had caused her to offer a "notice" that
she had never for an instant imagined would be accepted? Was he not a
devilish dog who, with, his quiet movements and sly expressions, was
more than human? "Mark my words," she said in the kitchen, "there's
a devil in that there animal, and so they'll find before they're many
years older--'Amlet indeed--a 'eathenish name and a 'eathenish beast."

Her enemy had discovered that in one corner of the nursery there were
signs and symbols that witnessed to something in the nature of a
mouse or a rat. That nursery corner became the centre of all his more
adventurous instincts. It happened to be just the corner where the
Jampot kept her sewing machine, and you would think, if you came to the
nursery as a stranger, and saw him sitting, his eyes fixed beamingly
upon the machine, his tail erect, and his body here and there quivering
a little, that from duties of manly devotion he was protecting the
Jampot's property. She knew better; she regarded, in some undefined way,
this continued contemplation by him of her possessions as an ironical
insult. She did everything possible to drive him from the corner; he
inevitably returned, and as he always delicately stepped aside when she
approached, it could not be said that he was in her way. Once she struck
him; he looked at her in such a fashion that "her flesh crept."... She
never struck him again.

For Jeremy he became more and more of a delight. He understood so
much. He symp