olds of the cooper-shops. The monotony of these shops and dogs
took Kitty's humor, and as they went slowly by she made a jest of them,
as she used to do with things she saw.

"But here's a door without a dog!" she said, presently. "This can't be a
genuine cooper-shop, of course, without a dog. O, that accounts for it,
perhaps!" she added, pausing before the threshold, and glancing up at a
sign--"_Academie commerciale et litteraire_"--set under an upper window.
"What a curious place for a seat of learning! What do you suppose is the
connection between cooper-shops and an academical education, Mr.
Arbuton?"

She stood looking up at the sign that moved her mirth, and swinging her
shut parasol idly to and fro, while a light of laughter played over her
face.

Suddenly a shadow seemed to dart betwixt her and the open doorway, Mr.
Arbuton was hurled violently against her, and, as she struggled to keep
her footing under the shock, she saw him bent over a furious dog, that
hung from the breast of his overcoat, while he clutched its throat with
both his hands.

He met the terror of her face with a quick glance. "I beg your pardon;
don't call out please," he said. But from within the shop came loud
cries and maledictions, "O nom de Dieu c'est le boule-dogue du capitaine
anglais!" with appalling screams for help; and a wild, uncouth little
figure of a man, bareheaded, horror-eyed came flying out of the open
door. He wore a cooper's apron, and he bore in one hand a red-hot iron,
which, with continuous clamor, he dashed against the muzzle of the
hideous brute. Without a sound the dog loosed his grip, and, dropping to
the ground, fled into the obscurity of the shop as silently as he had
launched himself out of it, while Kitty yet stood spell-bound, and
before the crowd that the appeal of Mr. Arbuton's rescuer had summoned
could see what had happened.

Mr. Arbuton lifted himself, and looked angrily round upon the gaping
spectators, who began, one by one, to take in their heads from their
windows and to slink back to their thresholds as if they had been guilty
of something much worse than a desire to succor a human being in peril.

"Good heavens!" said Mr. Arbuton, "what an abominable scene!" His face
was deadly pale, as he turned from these insolent intruders to his
deliverer, whom he saluted, with a "Merci bien!" spoken in a cold,
steady voice. Then he drew off his overcoat, which had been torn by the
dog's teeth and irreparabl