sible, they obey the wind, which 

 has no principles. . . . But what 

 is that ? I hear steps ! . . . Up, 

 ears open ; nose on the alert ! 

 ♦ . . It is the baker coming up to 

 the rails, while the postman is 

 opening a little gate in the hedge 

 of lime-trees. They are friends ; 

 it is well ; they bring something : 

 you can greet them and wag your 

 tail discreetly twice or thrice, with 

 a patronizing smile. . . . 



Another alarm ! What is it 

 now? A carriage pulls up in 

 front of the steps. The problem 



