e decided to tolerate the nuisance and in course of time
found her gypsy pranks amusing, even although she treated him with
increasing levity. As he took his prolonged siesta, she would frisk
about him, biting first one ear and then the other, till at last he
would rise in magnificent menace and go chasing after her, his
middle-aged dignity melting from him in the fun of the frolic, till his
antics outcapered her own.

Dora's wits were brighter than his. If the Lady of Cedar Hill, after
tossing a ball several times to the further end of the hall, for them
to dash after in frantic emulation and bring back to her, only made a
feint of throwing it, Ralph would hunt and hunt through the far corners
of the room, while Dora, soon satisfying herself that the ball was not
there, would dance back again and nose about the hands and pockets of
her mistress, evidently concluding that the ball had not been thrown.
Or if a door were closed upon them, Ralph would scratch long and
furiously at its lower edge, while Dora, finding such efforts futile,
would spring up and strike with her paw at the knob.

The date made momentous by the arrival of the ten puppies was August
20, 1902. The Lady of Cedar Hill, home from the Norland, found Dora
full of the prettiest pride in her fuzzy babies, while Ralph, stalking
about in jealous disgust, did his best to convey the impression that
those troublesome absurdities were in no way related to him. This was
not so easy, for they, one and all, were smitten with admiration of
their august father and determination to follow in his steps. No sooner
did Ralph, after casting one glare of contempt upon his family, stroll
off nonchalantly toward the famous Maze, the Mecca of all the children
in the neighboring factory town, than a line of eager puppies went
waddling after. Glancing uneasily back, Ralph would give vent to a
fierce paternal snarl, whereat squat on their stomachs would grovel the
train, every puppy wriggling all over with delicious fright. But no
sooner did Ralph proceed, with an attempt to resume his careless
bachelor poise, than again he found those ten preposterous puppies
panting along in a wavy procession at his very heels.

Only one of the puppies failed to thrive. Fragile little Kari,
inappropriately named for one of the most terrible of the Vikings, died
at the end of three months. But Helgi and Helga, Hauskuld and
Hildigunna, Hrut, Unna and Flosi, Gunnar and Njal, waxed in size,
act