MY QUEST OF THE ARAB HORSE 



with me two worthy Airedale terriers that 

 were more or less (rather more) members of 

 the family. Instantly there went up from the 

 human part of the household, a wail that the 

 dogs would be in the way. One of the dogs 

 had been on a trip as far as Oregon, and had 

 never been in the way; but as this wail went 

 up from everybody who was not in the least 

 concerned in the matter, and notwithstanding 

 that the dogs wanted to go, I chucked the plan. 

 I hated to leave them, for a dog's love in a 

 strange place is comforting, and these two dogs 

 I had known from puppies, and they knew 

 me. But they were left behind and not even 

 allowed to say good-bye to me at the station, 

 and after that, they were forgotten for a time 

 at least. 



On the voyage to Havre we met a traveller, 

 an Englishman, of course, who had lived and 

 hunted everywhere, and who insisted at every 

 point in the conversation "that on the Eu- 

 phrates River, one always needed a dog." 

 That was enough ; I am not a hunter, but I was 

 pining for an excuse to get a dog. So, at 

 Paris, the first thing I inquired for was a dog 

 shop which had for sale the right kind of a 

 dog. Mile after mile I rode in taximeters and 



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