uve and
bronze hardy chrysanthemums which made gay the flower border at the
crest of the lawn overlooking the lake. Thither fared the Mistress, in
search of blossoms.

Between her and the chrysanthemum border was a bed of canvas. Frost had
smitten the tall, dark stems; leaving only a copse of brown stalks. Out
of this copse, chewing greedily at an uprooted bunch of canna-bulbs,
slouched Romaine's wandering sow. At, sight of the Mistress, she paused
in her leisurely progress and, with the bunch of bulbs still hanging
from one corner of her shark-mouth, stood blinking truculently at the
astonished woman.

Now, Lad had not obeyed the Mistress's soft chirp. It had not reached
his dulling ears;--the ears which, of old, had caught her faintest
whisper. Yet, he would have followed her, as ever, without such
summons, had not his nostrils suddenly become aware of an alien scent.

Lad's sense of smell, like his hearing, was far less keen than once it
had been. But, it was still strong enough to register the trace of
intruders. His hackles bristled. Up went the classically splendid head,
to sniff the light breeze, for further information as to the reek of
pig and the lighter but more disquieting scent of man.

Turning his head, to reinforce with his near-sighted eyes the failing
evidence of his nostrils, he saw the sow emerge from the canna-clump.
He saw, too--or he divined--the look in her pale little red-rimmed
eyes; as they glared defiantly at the Mistress. And Lad cleared the
porch steps at one long leap.

For the instant, he forgot he was aged and stout and that his joints
ached at any sudden motion; and that his wind and his heart were not
what they had been;--and that his once-terrible fangs were yellowed and
blunt; and that his primal strength was forever fled. Peril was facing
the Mistress. That was all Laddie knew or cared. With his wonted
trumpet-bark of challenge, he sped toward her.

The Mistress, recovering from her surprise at the apparition of the
huge pig, noticed the bunch of canna-bulbs dangling from the slobbery
lips. This very week all the bulbs were to have been dug up and taken
into the greenhouse, for the winter. Angered,--with all a true
flower-lover's indignation,--at this desecrating of one of her beloved
plants, she caught up a stick which had been used as a rose-prop.
Brandishing this, and crying "Shoo!" very valiantly indeed, she
advanced upon the sow.

The latter did not stir; except to lowe