even then I have sometimes known him to 

 burst his bars and arrive, pursued by a boy, 

 on the station platform as the train was moving 

 out. How, indeed, is a dog to be assured that 

 he will ever see his departing master again? 

 % I cannot do more than indicate briefly the 

 merits of Rouser, a rough-haired terrier, and 

 Worry, an Irish terrier, friendly dogs, but not 

 my own. Each of them had a distinctive 

 character, but it was lost under the great heap 

 of imaginary attributes which their fond mas- 

 ter had raised about them. Rouser was an 

 amiable dog, not gifted with an over-mastering 

 Intelligence, who could always be made to 

 believe that an army of rats lurked under a 

 sofa-cushion. Yet Rouser was praised to his 

 innocent face for superhuman cleverness. 

 His talents were loudly vaunted, and his sol- 

 emn efforts to destroy a stocking or to tatter 

 a hearthrug were attributed to the deep de- 

 signs of genius rather than to an inborn capac- 

 ity for mischief. Worry was the meekest and 

 kindest dog in the world, and she spent much 

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