d high with logs fiercely
ablaze. Again on either side of the fireplace are the hounds gazing
meditatively into the fire. The same big table, and on it the same
great book, leather-bound and worn by the hands of many generations.
And at the strong table, bending over the sacred book, with one huge
finger marking a sentence, the same whitened head, the same man, large
of limb and large of feature--John Norton, the Trapper.

"Yis, pups," said the Trapper, speaking to his dogs as one speaks to
companions in council, "yis, pups, it must go in, for here it be writ
in the Book--Rover, ye needn't have that detarmined look in yer
eye--for here it be writ in the Book, I say, '_Do unto others as ye
would that others should do unto you._'

"I know, old dog, that ye have seed me line the sights on the
vagabonds, when ye and me have ketched 'em pilferin' the traps or
tamperin' with the line, and I have trusted yer nose as often as my
own eyes in trackin' the knaves when they'd got the start of us. And I
will admit it, Rover, that the Lord gave ye a great gift in yer nose,
so that ye be able to desarn the difference atween the scent of an
honest trapper's moccasin and that of a vagabond. But that isn't to
the p'int, Rover. The p'int is, Christmas be comin' and ye and me and
Sport, yender, have sot it down that we're to have a dinner, and the
question in council to-night is, Who shall we invite to our dinner?
Here we have been arguin' the matter three nights atween us, pups, and
we didn't git a foot ahead, and the reason that we didn't git a foot
ahead was, because ye and me, Rover, naterally felt alike, for we have
never consorted with vagabonds, and we couldn't bear the idee of
invitin' 'em to this cabin and eatin' with 'em. So, ye and me agreed
to-night we'd go to the Book and go by the Book, hit or miss. And the
reason we should go to the Book and by the Book is, because, ef it
wasn't for the Book, there wouldn't be any Christmas nor any Christmas
dinner to invite anyone to, and so we went to the Book, and the Book
says--I will read ye the words, Rover. And, Sport, though ye be a
younger dog, and naterally of less jedgment, yit ye have yer gifts,
and I have seed ye straighten out a trail that Rover and me couldn't
ontangle. So do ye listen, both of ye, like honest dogs, while I read
the words:--

"'_Give to him that lacketh and from him that hath not withhold not
thine hand._'

"There it be, Rover,--we are to give to the man