and civilizing
sentiments--I have never seen. As George said, he looked more like some
heathen idol than a happy English dog.

He appeared to have been waiting for us; and he rose up and greeted us
with a ghastly grin, and got between us and the door.

We smiled at him--a sickly, propitiatory smile. We said, "Good dog--poor
fellow!" and we asked him, in tones implying that the question could
admit of no negative, if he was not a "nice old chap." We did not really
think so. We had our own private opinion concerning him, and it was
unfavorable. But we did not express it. We would not have hurt his
feelings for the world. He was a visitor, our guest, so to speak--and,
as well-brought-up young men, we felt that the right thing to do was for
us to prevent his gaining any hint that we were not glad to see him, and
to make him feel as little as possible the awkwardness of his position.

I think we succeeded. He was singularly unembarrassed, and far more at
his ease than even we were. He took but little notice of our flattering
remarks, but was much drawn toward George's legs. George used to be,
I remember, rather proud of his legs. I could never see enough in them
myself to excuse George's vanity; indeed, they always struck me
as lumpy. It is only fair to acknowledge, however, that they quite
fascinated that bull-dog. He walked over and criticized them with the
air of a long-baffled connoisseur who had at last found his ideal. At
the termination of his inspection he distinctly smiled.

George, who at that time was modest and bashful, blushed and drew them
up on to the chair. On the dog's displaying a desire to follow them,
George moved up on to the table, and squatted there in the middle,
nursing his knees. George's legs being lost to him, the dog appeared
inclined to console himself with mine. I went and sat beside George on
the table.

Sitting with your feet drawn up in front of you, on a small and rickety
one-legged table, is a most trying exercise, especially if you are not
used to it. George and I both felt our position keenly. We did not like
to call out for help, and bring the family down. We were proud young
men, and we feared lest, to the unsympathetic eye of the comparative
stranger, the spectacle we should present might not prove imposing.

We sat on in silence for about half an hour, the dog keeping a
reproachful eye upon us from the nearest chair, and displaying
elephantine delight whenever we made any movem