perfect, because the Pup himself always seemed mortified at the
blatant discords which he made. When it was all achieved, however, it
was not singing, but mere instrumental music, as Libby triumphantly
proclaimed. Her father straightway swore that he was not to be downed
by any canary. A few weeks more, and he had taught the Pup to point
his muzzle skyward and emit long, agonizing groans, the while he kept
flapping the two tin plates against the bucket. It was a wonderful
achievement, which made Toby retreat behind the kitchen stove and gaze
forth upon his friend with grieved surprise. But it obliged Libby, who
was a fair-minded child, to confess to her father that she and her
pet were vanquished.

All this while the Pup was growing, as perhaps no harbor seal of his
months had grown before. When spring came, he saw less of Captain
Ephraim, but he had compensation, for the good captain now diverted
into his modest grounds a no-account little brook which was going
begging, and dug a snug little basin at the foot of the garden for the
Pup to disport himself therein. All through the summer he continued to
grow and was happy, playing with Toby, offending the yellow cat,
amusing Miss Libby, and affording food for speculation to Mrs. Barnes
over her knitting. In the winter Captain Ephraim polished him up in
his old tricks, and taught him some new ones. But by this time he had
grown so big that Mrs. Barnes began to grumble at him for taking up
too much room. He was, as ever, a model of confiding amiability, in
spite of his ample jaws and formidable teeth. But one day toward
spring he showed that this good nature of his would not stand the test
of seeing a friend ill-used.

It happened in this way. Toby, who was an impudent little dog, had
managed to incur the enmity of a vicious half-breed mastiff, which
lived on a farm some distance out of Eastport. The brute was known to
have killed several smaller dogs; so whenever he passed the Barnes'
gate, and snarled his threats at Toby, Toby would content himself with
a scornful growl from the doorstep.

But one morning, as the big mongrel went by at the tail of his
master's sled, Toby chanced to be very busy in the snow near the gate
digging up a precious buried bone. The big dog crept up on tiptoe, and
went over the gate with a scrambling bound. Toby had just time to lift
his shaggy little head out of the snow and turn to face the assault.
His heart was great, and there was no terr