Cat and Dog | Page 4

the country dull, he had been obliged to come the last twenty miles cramped up inside a coach. Such a shame that the railroad did not go the whole way! He was very glad to get to his journey's end, but it seemed to be more for the sake of his own comfort than for the pleasure of seeing his friends. His troubles had not hurt his appetite, as I plainly perceived, for I peeped into the room several times during dinner to watch him, and listen to his conversation. It was all in the same style, some fault to be found with everything. Even Lily could not put him in good humour, though she seemed to be trying to talk about everything likely to please him. After the failure of various attempts to find a fortunate topic, she asked if he had had much shooting this season.
"Plenty of it," he answered; "only so bad. My brother's dogs are wretched. There is no doing any thing with such brutes."
Lily coloured a little, and said that she thought Rodolph's dogs beautiful, and that it was very unlike him to have any thing wretched belonging to him.
"Oh," replied the other, "he is the greenest fellow in the world. He is always satisfied. I assure you his dogs are good for nothing. I did not bring down a single bird any time I went out with them."
"Well," said my master, "I hope we shall be able to make amends for that misfortune. To-morrow you shall go out with the best dog in the country."
I whined, for I knew he meant me; and I did not like the idea of a sportsman who began by finding fault with his dogs. I suspected that the dogs were not to blame. But nobody listened to me.
Next day, while Lily and I were playing in the garden, my master appeared at the usual time in his shooting-jacket.
"Where is Craven?" he inquired of Lily; "I told him to be ready."
"He is dressing again," answered she, laughing; "his boots had done something wrong, or his waistcoat was naughty; I forget which."
"Pshaw!" exclaimed my master; "he will waste half the day with his nonsense. I cannot wait for him. Tell him I am gone on, and he must follow with John. Go back, Captain," continued he, for I was bounding after him in hopes of escaping my threatened companion; "go back. You must do your best this morning, for I suspect you will know more about the matter than your commander."
Most reluctantly I obeyed, and stayed behind, looking wistfully after him as he strode away. I consoled myself with Lily's praises, which I almost preferred to the biscuits she bestowed upon me in equal profusion. After various compliments, she took a graver tone. "Now, Captain," she said, "listen to me."
I sat upright, and looked her full in the face.
"You know you are the best of dogs."
I wagged my tail, for I certainly did know it. She told me so every day, and I believed every thing she said.
"Here is another biscuit for you: catch!"
I caught, and swallowed it at one gulp.
"Good boy. Now that is enough; and I have something to say to you. You are going out shooting with Craven. He is not his brother, but that cannot be helped. I hope he will be good-natured to you, but I am not sure. Now mind that you behave well, and set him a good example. Do your own work as well as you can, and don't growl and grumble at other people. And if you are angry, you must not bark, nor bite him, but take it patiently."
What more she might have added I do not know, for her harangue was interrupted by old John the groom, who was, like myself, waiting for the gentleman in question. John's wife had been Lily's nurse, and he himself taught her to ride and helped her to garden, and had a sort of partnership with me in taking care of her; so that there was a great friendship between us all three. He had been listening to our conversation, and now observed, while he pointed towards the house with a knowing jerk of his head, "There are those coming, Miss Lily, who need your advice as much as the poor animal; and I guess it wouldn't be of much more use."
The last words he said to himself, in an undertone, while Lily went forward to meet Craven, who now appeared in full costume. He was so hung about with extra shooting-pouches, belts, powder-flasks, and other things dangling from him in all directions, that I wondered he could move at all. Old John shook his head as he looked at him, and muttered, "Great cry and little wool."
Lily began to explain her father's