In Winter Quarters 



stantly, and be profoundly stirred 

 thereby. 



I once knew a dog that never had 

 her voice forced by any chord or dis- 

 chord whatsoever. You could try all 

 sorts of harmonies or the reverse, test 

 her out with all the minors, flats and 

 sharps known to the scale without 

 audible answer, but strangely enough 

 this dog developed a most peculiar 

 sensitiveness in relation to the Vic- 

 trola's rendition of Journet's basso- 

 profundo solo from the first act of 

 Meyerbeer's "Les Huguenots." From 

 the very first time she heard it this 

 Chow simply would not stand for it. 

 You might play everything you had in 

 the box but that, and she would sleep 

 on undisturbed, but before the first 

 measure of this particular composition 

 could be reeled off the record she would 

 look quickly up, extend her ears to 

 make sure that she was not mistaken, 

 and then slowly rise to her feet, and 

 with tail at half-mast and dejection 



