not so inequitably fixed,' snapped Dr. Hansen.
'There is really no sense in a respectable old lady, who keeps a dog in
a hand-bag, having to pay as much as a man who takes pleasure in
annoying his fellow-creatures by owning a half-wild animal as big as a
little lion.'

'May I ask how you would have the dog-tax reckoned, Dr. Hansen?'

'According to weight, of course,' replied Dr. Viggo Hansen without
hesitation.

The old merchants and councillors laughed so heartily at this idea of
weighing the dogs, that the disputants at the lower end of the table,
who were still vigorously bombarding each other with unalterable
opinions, became attentive and dropped their opinions, in order to
listen to the discussion on dogs. And the question, 'Can one call a lady
a fine lady--a really fine lady--if it be known that on a steamboat she
has put her feet up on a stool, and disclosed small shoes and
embroidered stockings?' also floated away in the air, unsolved.

'You seem to be a downright hater of dogs, Dr. Hansen!' said the lady
next to him, still laughing.

'I must tell you, madam,' cried a gentleman across the table, 'that he
is terribly afraid of dogs.'

'But one thing,' continued the lady--'one thing you must admit, and that
is, that the dog has always been the faithful companion of man.'

'Yes, that is true, madam, and I could tell you what the dog has learned
from man, and man from the dog.'

'Tell us; do tell us!' was simultaneously exclaimed from several
quarters.

'With pleasure. In the first place, man has taught the dog to fawn.'

'What a very queer thing to say!' cried old grandmother.

'Next, the dog has acquired all the qualities that make man base and
unreliable: cringing flattery upward, and rudeness and contempt
downward; the narrowest adhesion to his own, and distrust and hatred of
all else. Indeed, the noble animal has proved such an apt pupil that he
even understands the purely human art of judging people by their
clothes. He lets well-dressed folks alone, but snaps at the legs of the
ragged.'

Here the doctor was interrupted by a general chorus of disapproval, and
Miss Thyra bitterly gripped the fruit-knife in her little hand.

But there were some who wanted to hear what mankind had learned from the
dog, and Dr. Hansen proceeded, with steadily-growing passion and
bitterness:

'Man has learned from the dog to set a high price upon this grovelling,
unmerited worship. When neither injustice nor ill-