ams flickering up the
wall, when I hears a queer, scratching, whining noise at the door.

"Mother was putting out the tea-cups, and she didn't hear it at first.
But I, sitting in front of the fire, heard it well enough, and I tumbled
off my stool and ran to the door to get it open, for I thought I knew
what it was. But mother had pulled the bar across at the top and I
couldn't stir it.

"'There's something at the door that wants to come in,' I says, pulling
at it.

"'There ain't nothing of the sort,' says mother shortly, and goes on
putting out the tea. 'Let the door alone.'

"'Yes, there is,' I says. 'It's a dog. It's Nip, or Juno,' meaning the
brace of pointers that dad had usually in the kennels outside.

"Then mother, thinking that perhaps dad had found that one of the dogs
could be spared after all, and had told it to go home, went to the door
and opened it. I had been right and wrong too, for on the doorstep there
was a large black dog.

"My word! but he was a beautiful creature, sir, the finest dog I ever
set eyes on. Like a setter in the make of him, but no setter that ever
I saw could match him for size or looks. His coat was jet-black, as
glossy as the skin of a thoroughbred, with just one streak of white
showing down the breast, and his eyes--well, they were the very
humanest, sir, that ever I see looking out of a dog's face.

"Now mother, although she had expected to find a dog outside, hadn't
dreamt of anything except one of ourn, and she made like to shut the
door on him. But the creature was too quick for her. He had pushed his
head through before she knew it, and she scarcely saw how, or even felt
the door press against her when he had slipped past and was in the room.

"Mother was used to dogs, and hadn't no fear of them, but she didn't
altogether like strange ones, you see, sir, me being such a child and
all; and her first thought was to put the creature out. So she pulled
the door wide open and pointed to it, stamping her foot and saying, 'Be
off! Go-home.'

"It was all very well to say that, but the dog wouldn't go. Not a step
would he budge, but only stood there, wagging his tail and looking at
her with them beautiful eyes of his, as were the biggest and
beautifullest and softest I ever see in dog before or since. She took up
a stick then, but his eyes were that imploring that she hadn't the heart
to use it; and at last, for the odd kind of uneasiness that had hung
about her ever since da