sk to which
your conduct has exposed others. Think of the pollution of the air, the
contamination of the atmosphere! Think, M'sieur, of the typhoid! the
fever!! the cholera!!!"

He looked round upon the others, and a sympathetic shudder of horror
passed over them.

As an Englishman, of course, I felt strongly inclined to derisive
laughter. However, I merely said,--

"Well, what is to be done next?"

"The body must be removed, M'sieur!" he answered, with a touch of
severity, "at once!!"

"How?"

"A scavenger will remove it."

I stood silent. The idea repelled me. This thing that had been petted
and cared for by me for ten years, had slept at my side, and often been
held in my arms, now to be flung upon a dust heap, with the rotting
matter of a Paris street. The mind will not change its associations so
quickly. I looked at the man and said,--

"Can I not bury the dog somewhere myself?"

"I am afraid--I hardly know--" he said. "These are the rules,--that all
dead animals are taken by the municipality."

He spoke reluctantly now. His personal animosity against me was
evidently dead. Fortunate that I had not offended him earlier in the
interview; if I had, he would certainly now have dragged the dog from
me with every species of indignity and insult, and I could have done
nothing against him, armoured up as he was with the law. As things
stood, he was clearly on my side.

"Perhaps this gentleman," I said, indicating the master of the hotel,
"would let me purchase a piece of ground for a grave in his courtyard.
If so, would you allow me to bury the dog there?"

The master of the hotel, who saw now that after all there would be no
serious row with the police, nor discredit on his hotel, and began to
think his fury had been somewhat misdirected, hastened to assure me
that I need not consider the matter; that not only was a portion, but
the whole courtyard at my disposition, and not as a purchase, but as a
free gift, if M'sieur le Commissionaire sanctioned the proceeding.

The official hesitated, and the onlookers, their sympathies engaged,
murmured,--

"Ah, pauvre chien!"

"C'est l'affection vois-tu?"

"Il aime le chien, c'est naturel!"

"L'affection, c'est toujours touchante!"

The Commissionaire, his own inclination thus backed up by the
prevailing sentiment, turned to me, and said--

"Well, M'sieur, I ought to take your dog from you, but still, as you
say you will bury the dog yourself, and, as I a