he cheeks of a little seamstress who was
passing in a bundle at the door while her sheepish young escort hid in
the shrubbery. It did not take Sigurd thirty seconds to drive that gawk
from cover. To a recognized friend our collie would act as master of
ceremonies, bounding down the walk to give him welcome, barking sharply
to save him the trouble of ringing the bell, dashing in ahead with the
glorious news of the arrival and then scampering back to thrust into
the visitor's palm a cordial, clumsy paw, wagging that plumy tail
meanwhile with an impetuous swing that sometimes swept before it small
articles from cabinet or tea-table. Sometimes he would take a fancy to
an utter stranger and greet him as an angel from the blue, singing
love-at-first-sight to him at the top of his funny squeal, a
four-legged troubadour. College girls he regarded as his natural chums
and would frisk about them or leap upon them as the mood took him;
middle-aged folk, like his mistresses, were all very well in their
serviceable way; but the romance of life centered for Sigurd in old
ladies. The whiter the hair, the more beautiful. For them he would
spring up on his hind feet and rest his forepaws on their shoulders,
pressing his face against their cheeks with such ardor that once, when
such an encounter occurred on the street, a gentleman rushed from
across the road, with upraised cane, to the rescue.

"Kindly let us alone, sir," crisply rebuked the Lovely Object, her
bonnet askew but her face beaming. "This dog and I understand each
other and we want no interference."

When a company of callers were seated, Sigurd, in a rapture of
hospitality, would hurry again and again around the circle, shaking
paws with each in turn and uttering a continuous, soft quaver of
welcome, pleasure and pride. Then he would lie down contentedly in the
very center of the group, now and then rolling over on his back in the
hope that it would occur to somebody to slap his fluffy breast.

At first he often made mistakes in his office of sentinel. It was funny
to see him rush madly to the door at a suspicious step and then,
abashed by the jocular greeting of some household familiar, drop the
role of heroic defender and, waving his tail affably but with a certain
reserve, push by on the pretense that he was just coming out to take a
squint at the weather.

Of sensitive and generous nature, our golden collie was quick to feel
the difference between an intentional hurt