AN EVENING IN JULY 



" Soon as the evening shades prevail 

 The moon takes up the wondrous tale." 



— Addison. 



It has been a busy day at the kennels, and the 

 huntsman turns into his pretty garden with a 

 sigh of content as he hears the clash of a gate 

 a quarter of a mile off which proclaims that the 

 last of his guests, or his master's guests, save a 

 privileged few, is well on his homeward way. 



It has been the annual Puppy Show, and from 

 early morning his has been a life of constant 

 anxiety. For much of the success of these 

 annual gatherings — that is the real success of 

 them as distinguished from the apparent success 

 which is expressed in the frequently meaning- 

 less words, " We have had a good time " — is 

 due in great measure to the tact of the huntsman 

 or his wife, who have to smooth out the little 



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