tle hairless terrier from Brazil, to a huge, badly cow-hocked animal,
of perhaps two hundred pounds in weight, said to combine St. Bernard and
mastiff blood in his veins.

There was also an Arab hunting-dog, a slogi from Morocco, two boarhounds
of sorts, some Polar dogs, several bulldogs and collies, and a
considerable group of terrier varieties in one way or another
exceptional. One of the bulldogs was a really magnificent creature of
the famous Stone strain, whose only fault seemed to be a club-foot.
There was also a satanic-looking creature of enormous stature; a great
Dane, with very closely cropped prick ears, and a tail no more than five
inches long. This gentleman was further distinguished by wearing a
muzzle, and by the fact that his leader carried a venomous-looking whip.
The lady with the hairless terrier was particularly careful to avoid the
proximity of this rather ill-conditioned brute, and of the weedy-looking
little man in a frock-coat who led him.

In the course of ten or fifteen minutes, during which the ring was
uncomfortably crowded, the judge managed to reduce his field of
selection down to a group of six, which did not include the crop-eared
Dane or exclude Jan.

"Well, come," said the Mistress to Betty, "this does not look like
prejudice against the larger breeds: Jan, and two other big dogs, with
one bulldog and two terriers." Betty only nodded. She was too much
excited on Jan's behalf for conversation; and her bright eyes missed no
single movement in the ring. It was all very well to say that Jan was
only shown "for the fun of the thing," and because "a one-day show is
rather a joke, and not long enough to bore him." But from the moment her
Jan had entered that ring with the Master, Betty knew that in all
seriousness she badly wanted him to--well, if not to win outright, at
all events to "get a card"; to come honorably through the ordeal.

The dogs now left in the ring were the Moorish hound--a creature full of
feline grace and suppleness, with silky drop-over ears and a tufted
tail--an exceptionally fine cross-bred collie, the Stone bulldog, a
Dandie Dinmont, and a Welsh terrier, the last extraordinarily small,
bright, shapely, and game. The slogi had apparently been most carefully
trained for the ring. He entirely ignored the other dogs, stood erect on
his hind feet at his master's word of command, jumped a chair with
exquisite grace and agility, and in a variety of other ways exhibited
bot