n Mr. Lavender's arm. "Come with me,
sir," she said, "and your nice doggie."

Mr. Lavender, whose politeness to ladies was invariable, bowed, and
resuming his coat accompanied her through the 'garden gate. "He kicked
my dog," he said; "no action could be more despicable."

"Yes, yes," said the old lady soothingly. "Poor doggie!"

The crowd, who had hoped for better things, here gave vent to a
prolonged jeer.

"Stop!" said Mr. Lavender; "I am going to take a collection.

"There, there!" said the old lady. "Poor man!"

"I don't know what you mean by that, madam," said Mr. Lavender,
whose spirit was roused; "I shall certainly take a collection, in
the interests of our population." So saying he removed his hat, and
disengaging his arm from the old lady's hand, moved out into the throng,
extending the hat. A boy took it from him at once, and placing it on
his head, ran off, pursued by Blink, who, by barking and jumping up
increased the boy's speed to one of which he could never have thought
himself capable. Mr. Lavender followed, calling out "Blink!" at the top
of his voice. The crowd followed Mr. Lavender, and the old lady followed
crowd. Thus they proceeded until the boy, arriving at a small piece of
communal water, flung the hat into the middle of it, and, scaling the
wall, made a strategic detour and became a disinterested spectator among
the crowd. The hat, after skimming the surface of the pond, settled like
a water-lily, crown downwards, while Blink, perceiving in all this the
hand of her master, stood barking at it wildly. Mr. Lavender arrived at
the edge of the pond slightly in advance of the crowd.

"Good Blink!" he said. "Fetch it! Good Blink!"

Blink looked up into his face, and, with the acumen for which her breed
is noted, perceiving he desired her to enter the water backed away from
it.

"She is not a water dog," explained Mr. Lavender to the three soldiers
in blue clothes.

"Good dog; fetch it!" Blink backed into the soldiers, who, bending down,
took her by head tail, threw her into the pond, and encouraged her
on with small stones pitched at the hat. Having taken the plunge, the
intelligent animal waded boldly to the hat, and endeavoured by barking
and making little rushes at it with her nose, to induce it to return to
shore.

"She thinks it's a sheep," said Mr. Lavender; "a striking instance of
hereditary instinct."

Blink, unable to persuade the hat, mounted it with her fore-paws and
trod i