the stable yard. Leo,
our big mastiff, who gained the prize last year, is over at the farm. He
is a splendid fellow, but a trifle fierce to strangers. He pulled a man
down once, a tramp who was lurking about the place. Leo had got loose
somehow, and he was at his throat in a moment. The poor fellow has the
scar now; but I made it up to him, poor wretch."

"I should not care to go near Leo's kennel," returned Bessie, with a
shudder.

"Oh, it would be all right if I were with you. I should just put my hand
on your arm and say, 'A friend, Leo,' and he would be as gentle as Mac,
here. Leo is my faithful servant and guardian at the farm. I always
take him out for a walk on Sunday afternoons. Leo knows Sunday as well
as I do. Now, we must be quick, or the gong will sound. There is no need
to go through the house; this door leads to the kitchen garden, and we
can reach the stables that way." And talking in this easy, friendly
fashion, Richard quickly conducted Bessie down the trim gravel walks,
under the apple and plum trees, and then unlocking a green door in the
wall, Bessie found herself in the stable yard, where the groom was
rubbing down a fine brown mare. The mare neighed as soon as she heard
her master's voice, and Richard went up to her and petted her glossy
sides.

"That is brown Bess," he observed. "She is a skittish young thing, and
plays her pranks with every one but me; but you and I understand each
other, eh, old lady?" And the mare rubbed her nose against him in a
confiding manner. Bessie looked on with an earnest air of interest.

"Do you ride?" asked Richard presently.

Bessie shook her head.

"I have never been on horseback in my life; but I can imagine what a
pleasure riding must be."

"What a pity!" he returned briefly. "There is nothing like it." And so
saying, he unlatched a gate and ushered his guest into a small paved
yard, and then, opening a door, he uttered a prolonged whistle, and
yelps, and a number of dogs, small and large, rushed out upon him.

"Hi, there, Gelert! down, Juno; down, down, good dogs all." And Richard
threatened them with his dogwhip.

"Is this Gelert?" asked Bessie, pointing to a fine black retriever.

"Yes; and that is Brand," patting the head of a handsome pointer. "That
brown setter is Juno; she is the mother of those three puppies--fine
little fellows, aren't they? Look at this curly haired one; two of them
are promised to friends; they are a capital breed. Do you c