ne on his own account and on the
Mistress's,--when he bought a second collie, to share Lad's realm of
forest and lawn and lake. For, it is always a mistake to own two dogs
at a time. A single dog is one's chum and guard and worshiper. If he be
rightly treated and talked to and taught, he becomes all-but human.
Because he is forced to rely solely on humans, for everything. And his
mind and heart respond to this. There is no divided allegiance.

One dog in a home is worth ten times as much to his owners, in every
way, as are two or more dogs. Especially if the one dog be such a
collie as Sunnybank Lad. This the Master was due to discover.

On a sloppy and drippy and muggy afternoon, late in October,--one of
those days nobody wants,--the Master came home from town; his fall
overcoat showing a decided list to starboard in the shape of an
egregiously bulged side-pocket.

The Mistress and Lad, as ever, came forth to greet the returning man.
Lad, with the gayly trumpeting bark which always he reserved for the
Mistress or the Master after an absence of any length, cavorted
rapturously up to his deity. But, midway in his welcoming advance, he
checked himself; sniffing the sodden October air, and seeking to locate
a new and highly interesting scent which had just assailed his
sensitive nostrils.

The Master put an end to the mystery, forthwith, by reaching deep into
his overcoat's swollen pocket and fishing out a grayish golden ball of
squirming fluff.

This handful of liveliness he set gingerly on the veranda floor; where
it revealed itself as an eight-weeks old collie pup.

"Her name is 'Lady,'" expounded the Master, as he and the Mistress
gazed interestedly down upon the sprawling and wiggling puppy. "Her
pedigree reads like a page in Burke's Peerage. She--"

He paused. For Lad had moved forward to where the infant collie was
trying valiantly to walk on the slippery boards. The big dog regarded
the puppy; his head on one side, his tulip ears cocked; his deep-set
eyes friendily curious. This was Lad's first experience with one of the
young of his species. And he was a bit puzzled; albeit vastly
interested.

Experimentally, he laid one of his tiny white forepaws lightly on the
mite's fuzzy shoulder. Instantly, the puppy growled a falsetto warning
to him to keep his distance. Lad's plumed tail began to wag at this
sign of spirit in the pigmy. And, with his curved pink ribbon of
tongue, he essayed to lick the shivering L