o the
side entrance." And the St. Bernard, everything wagging now, walked with
the stranger to the corner, stopping stock still to point with his nose to
the closed door.

Then the stranger bounded down with a scurry and plunge, nervously edging
up to the door, wagging his tail, and with a low, anxious whine springing
one side and another, his paws now on the sill, his nose at the crack,
until the door was finally opened, and he dashed inside.

What happened in the coffee-room I do not know, for I could not see. I am
willing, however, to wager that a dog of his loyalty, dignity, and sense
of duty did just what a dog of quality would do. No awkward springing at
his master's chest with his dusty paws leaving marks on his vest front; no
rushing around chairs and tables in mad joy at being let in, alarming
waitresses and children. Only a low whine and gurgle of delight, a rubbing
of his cold nose against his master's hand, a low, earnest look up into
his face, so frank, so trustful, a look that carried no reproach for being
shut out, and only gratitude for being let in.

A moment more, and he was outside again, head in air, looking for his
friend. Then a dash, and he was around by the archway, licking the
concierge in the face, biting his neck, rubbing his nose under his
forelegs, saying over and over again how deeply he thanked him,--how glad
and proud he was of his acquaintance, and how delighted he would be if he
came down to Vienna, or Milan, or wherever he did come from, so that he
might return his courtesies in some way, and make his stay pleasant.

Just here the landlord called out that the cutlets and coffee were ready,
and, man-like, I went in to breakfast.

BROCKWAY'S HULK

I first saw Brockway's towards the close of a cold October day. Since
early morning I had been tramping and sketching about the northern suburbs
of New York, and it was late in the afternoon when I reached the edge of
that high ground overlooking the two rivers. I could see through an
opening in the woods the outline of the great aqueduct,--a huge stone
centipede stepping across on its sturdy legs; the broad Hudson, with its
sheer walls of rock, and the busy Harlem crowded with boats and braced
with bridges. A raw wind was blowing, and a gray mist blurred the edges of
the Palisades where they cut against the sky.

As the darkness fell the wind increased, and scattered drops of rain,
piloting the coming storm, warned me to seek a