con at home. I'd rather not go myself."

"But, girlie, we couldn't very well----"

"Why, Uncle Bob! You don't mean to say you thought of leaving Beacon!
If you did I simply sha'n't go. That's all there is about it. I shall
never, never be parted from Beacon--never!"

"Listen, dear. Beacon wouldn't enjoy going. We could not get for him
the food to which he is accustomed, nor would they admit him to the
picture galleries which we shall visit. I doubt if he would even care
for the gondolas."

"No, I'm sure he would not like the gondolas," admitted Jean smiling
faintly, "because Hannah and I tried him on the swan-boats in the
Public Garden and he hated them; he just barked and snarled all the
time, and wriggled about so in my arms that he nearly went overboard
and carried me with him."

"That's just it! That is precisely the way he would feel on shipboard.
Now my plan is this. We'll send him out to Pittsburgh for Uncle Tom to
take care of until you get back. Then when you go out there in October
your doggie will be nicely settled in his other home and waiting for
you. In fact," confessed Uncle Bob a little sheepishly, "I wrote Uncle
Tom and asked how he would feel about adding a puppy to his household.
This is his answer:

"'_European plan excellent. Send Beacon. Next best thing to
Jean._'"

"Dear Uncle Tom! He is awfully good, isn't he?"

"Yes, he is. I fancy he will decide so, too, when he finds all his sofa
cushions torn, and his shoes chewed up," chuckled Uncle Bob. "Let him
take his turn at it."

Beacon provided for, the remainder of the European plan seemed simple
enough. To be sure there was Hannah, who at first flatly refused to be
separated from the golden dome of the State House or from the Boston
"Evening Transcript." At last, however, after much persuasion she
consented to suffer these deprivations for the common good, and brought
herself to purchasing the necessary clothing for Jean and herself. To
these she added French, German and Italian dictionaries because, as she
explained: "We might get lost or parted from your Uncle Bob somehow,
and you never can tell what will happen in those heathen countries
where the poor people cannot speak English. How men and women can live
in places where they talk those dreadful languages and use that queer
money when they might come over here to Boston----"

"That's right, Hannah," agreed Uncle Bob, playfully urging her on.

"And all that strange weather!