2'W N A TUBE AND WOODCIiAFT. 



CHAPTER XXI. 



" GIP." 



A Sketch in Evolution. 



Gip has stood by me through many an hour of 

 adversity, and has always proved true as steel ; 

 and this is why I love him. 



There is no trace of base metal in his composi- 

 tion — nothing but fine gold. And yet I hardly 

 know why this should be, for there is little of 

 ton about him. " Sir Windera," our other dog, 

 came to us with a pedigree as long as his silky 

 tail, but he was sadly lacking in moral qualities. 

 Gip, however, has no pedigree to speak of — 

 cannot even get on the paternal track of his 

 father ; and yet he has a capital nose. 



So far as we can make out, there was only 

 one being in the world who ever cared for Gip, 

 and that was his mother. She belonged to a 



