SRGflCITY. 



MANY years ago, two decades or more, the writer was 

 the possessor of a little dog a French poodle by 

 breed. A more knowing animal of his kind never lived. 

 He was a pretty creature, with hair as white as driven snow, 

 and manners the most agreeable. Great pride was taken in 

 his appearance. That his dress should maintain its natural 

 purity, he was weekly subjected to a warm-water bath. This 

 task devolved upon a little brunette, for whom the canine 

 had contracted a strong affection. 



Frisky, for such was our pet's name, had never before 

 coming into the family known what it was to receive a good 

 washing. His first experience was as uninteresting as it was 

 novel and strange. It was anything but pleasant to him, 

 but the little fellow bore it like a martyr. 



Such treatment, by the ordinary cur, would have been 

 resented with snaps and snarls, but his was a gentle nature that 

 knew no such untoward manifestations. But there was, all 

 the same, an aversion to the bath, as looks only too plainly 

 indicated. So pronounced was the dislike, that the very 

 sight of water caused his delicate frame to shake like a 

 child's with the cold. 



Had not the greatest care been taken in the preparation of 

 the bath, it might have been thought that the tremors that 

 shook his by no means robust frame were induced by the 

 water's chilliness or by its undue warmth. But this could 

 not be the case, as the fluid was always tempered to the most 

 sensitive touch. 



But there came a time, however, when Frisky was deter- 

 mined to evade these kindnesses upon the part of his 



