OUR FRIEND THE DOG 



nothing to say to them, they 

 are irresponsible, 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. ... -i 



L_. Ha9H 



