w that poor
little dog howled all night after the battle of Courcelette. Yet he did
not love Walter as much as he loved Jem. If he mourned for Walter like
that, do you suppose he would sleep sound in his kennel the night after
Jem had been killed? No, Rilla dear, little Jem is not dead, and that
you may tie to. If he were, Dog Monday would have known, just as he
knew before, and he would not be still waiting for the trains."

It was absurd--and irrational--and impossible. But Rilla believed it,
for all that; and Mrs. Blythe believed it; and the doctor, though he
smiled faintly in pretended derision, felt an odd confidence replace
his first despair; and foolish and absurd or not, they all plucked up
heart and courage to carry on, just because a faithful little dog at
the Glen station was still watching with unbroken faith for his master
to come home. Common sense might scorn--incredulity might mutter "Mere
superstition"--but in their hearts the folk of Ingleside stood by their
belief that Dog Monday knew.

CHAPTER XXX

THE TURNING OF THE TIDE

Susan was very sorrowful when she saw the beautiful old lawn of
Ingleside ploughed up that spring and planted with potatoes. Yet she
made no protest, even when her beloved peony bed was sacrificed. But
when the Government passed the Daylight Saving law Susan balked. There
was a Higher Power than the Union Government, to which Susan owed
allegiance.

"Do you think it right to meddle with the arrangements of the
Almighty?" she demanded indignantly of the doctor. The doctor, quite
unmoved, responded that the law must be observed, and the Ingleside
clocks were moved on accordingly. But the doctor had no power over
Susan's little alarm.

"I bought that with my own money, Mrs. Dr. dear," she said firmly, "and
it shall go on God's time and not Borden's time."

Susan got up and went to bed by "God's time," and regulated her own
goings and comings by it. She served the meals, under protest, by
Borden's time, and she had to go to church by it, which was the
crowning injury. But she said her prayers by her own clock, and fed the
hens by it; so that there was always a furtive triumph in her eye when
she looked at the doctor. She had got the better of him by so much at
least.

"Whiskers-on-the-moon is very much delighted with this daylight saving
business," she told him one evening. "Of course he naturally would be,
since I understand that the Germans invented it. I hear he came