scent out old acquaintances. Out in the
country, he lived exclusively for the sake of his health; he bathed,
rolled in the flower-beds, and then went into the parlour to rub himself
dry upon the furniture, the ladies, and finally upon the hearthrug.

But for the remainder of the year the whole of Copenhagen was at his
disposal, and he availed himself of his privileges with much assurance.

What a treat it was, early in the spring, when the fine grass began to
shoot upon the public lawns, which no human foot must tread, to run up
and down and round in a ring with a few friends, scattering the tufts of
grass in the air!

Or when the gardener's people had gone home to dinner, after having
pottered and trimmed all the forenoon among the fine flowers and bushes,
what fun it was to pretend to dig for moles; thrust his nose down into
the earth in the centre of the flower-bed, snort and blow, then begin
scraping up the earth with his fore-feet, stop for a little, thrust his
muzzle down again, blow, and then fall to digging up earth with all his
might, until the hole was so deep that a single vigorous kick from his
hind-legs could throw a whole rose-bush, roots and all, high in the air!

When Trofast, after such an escapade, lay quietly in the middle of the
lawn, in the warm spring sunshine, and saw the humans trudge wearily
past outside, in dust or mud, he would silently and self-complacently
wag his tail.

Then there were the great fights in Groenningen, or round the horse in
Kongens Nytorv. [Footnote: King's Square.] From thence, wet and
bedraggled, he would dash up Oestergade [Footnote: East Street.] among
people's legs, rubbing against ladies' dresses and gentlemen's
trousers, overthrowing old women and children, exercising an unlimited
right-of-way on both sides of the pavement, now rushing into a backyard
and up the kitchen stairs after a cat, now scattering terror and
confusion by flying right at the throat of an old enemy. Or Trofast
would sometimes amuse himself by stopping in front of a little girl who
might be going an errand for her mother, thrusting his black nose up
into her face, and growling, with gaping jaws, 'Bow, wow, wow!'

If you could see the little thing! She becomes blue in the face, her
arms hang rigidly by her sides, her feet keep tripping up and down; she
tries to scream, but cannot utter a sound.

But the grown ladies in the street cry shame upon her, and say:

'What a little fool! How _can