Esquire," he went to Shakspere:

"But that I am forbid
To tell the secrets of thy mountain climb,
I could a tail unfold, whose lightest wag
Would harrow up the roof of thy mouth, draw thy young blood,
Make thy two eyes, like a couple of safety-matches, start from their
spheres;
Thy knotted and combined locks to part right straight down the middle
of thy back,
And each particular brick-red hair to stand on end
Full of quills, shot out by a fretful Onteora porcupine.
But this eternal blazon must not be
To ears that are quite as handsome as is the rest of thy beautiful body.

("'Hamlet,' altered to suit, by)

his
"Roy x Hutton.
mark.
"Witness: John Johnson."

His latest poetical effort was the result of his affection for a
Scottish collie, in his neighborhood, and was indited

TO LADDIE PRUYN, ESQ.

Should Auld Acquaintance be forgot,
And the Dogs of Auld Lang Syne?
I'll wag a tail o' kindness yet,
For the sake of Auld Ladd Pruyn.

Witnesses:
Marion Lyman,
Effie Waddington,
Katherine Lyman.

[Illustration: Punch. Whiskie. Mop.
THE WAITING THREE]

While Roy was visiting the Fitches and the Telford children, and little
Agnes Ogden, at Wilton, Conn., some time afterwards, he dictated a long
letter to his master, some portions of which, perhaps, are worth
preserving. After the usual remarks upon the weather and the general
health of the family, he touched upon serious, personal matters which
had evidently caused him some mental and physical uneasiness. And he
explained that while he was willing to confess that he _did_ chase the
white cat into a tree, and keep her away from her kittens for a couple
of hours, he _did not_ kill the little chicken. The little chicken,
stepped upon by its own mother, was dead, quite dead, when he picked it
up, and brought it to the house. And he made Dick Fitch, who was an
eye-witness to the whole transaction, add a post-script testifying that
the statement was true.

John says the letter sounds exactly like Roy!

Roy's is a complex character. There is little medium about Roy. He is
very good when he is good, and he is very horrid indeed when he is bad.
He is a strange admixture of absolute devotion and