120 
DOM PEDRO’S VERDICT. 
“ Well, I never ! ” 
“ What’ll you bet that dog ain’t stuffed ? ” 
“ Bet ? I’ll bet you a ‘ V ’ you won’t think so 
when he tears your clothes. You’d better let 
him alone ! ” The end of a cane settles the ques- 
tion for them. 
Even Dom Pedro, after inspecting him with his 
royal eyes, said : 
“Very good! Very good! Like live!” and 
he emphasized his verdict by a cordial shake of 
Mrs. Maxwell’s hand, in token of his appreciation 
of her success. Certainly, when first mounted, 
his appearance was natural enough to deceive 
any one. 
There was no one in Mrs. Maxwell’s sitting- 
room when I came into her house one day and 
saw him lying in a large rocking-chair, the very 
one in which I wished to sit. 
“What does this mean?” I thought. “Mrs. 
Maxwell is not a lover of small dogs, and has 
none of her own. For some one else’s dog to be* 
taking such liberties was a piece of unwarranta- 
ble impudence. 
“Get down, sir!” and my hand came down 
on him in anything but a caress. 
Whatever may be general opinion concerning 
my face, it must have been expressive then — 
that dog was as hard as a brick ! 
Had there been a wild cat in that chair, with 
