XXIII 



LOKI is once more Only-dog in London. He is un- 

 speakably grimy, as none of the famiglia except Juvenal 

 are ever able or willing to tub him when he most 

 wants it. Juvenal, his special friend, has been away on 

 his holiday poor little Loki could not understand his 

 absence. He was perpetually rushing out of the rooms 

 and downstairs to see if he had arrived. At last, worn 

 out with suspense, he dashed up to his butler's bedroom 

 and would not be satisfied till he was admitted ,- when, jump- 

 ing on the bed, he began to tear up the clothes, believing, 

 we suppose, that Juvenal shared his propensity for curling 

 under the quilt. Odd little dog ! He has as many moods 

 as a fine lady, and when really annoyed lies in a strained 

 attitude with his hind paws stuck outward like the embryo 

 legs of a little crocodile. This is the sign that he wants 

 "a powder ": what we call in our playful dog-language, 

 " a pow-pow." 



What a freemasonry the love of dogs creates ! Loki's 

 Grandfather, travelling up from our moors the other day, 

 met a family likewise going to London/ and these had 

 with them a small Pekinese, who sat very sadly with 

 drooping head and tail. The owner of Loki watched him 

 sympathetically for some time in silence, then unable to 

 repress his feelings, he leant forward and said very solemnly 

 to the Pekinese's lady : 

 " This little dog wants a pow-wow ! " 

 " Oh ! we know/' eagerly cried the lady in charge, " we 

 know he does ! He should have had it this morning, only 

 we were travelling." 

 166 



