were his feelings when he beheld Snarleyyow lying in a corner
tailless, with a puddle of blood behind him.

"My poor, poor dog!" exclaimed Vanslyperken, covering up his face.

His sorrow soon changed to rage--he invoked all the curses he could
imagine upon Moggy's head--he vowed revenge--he stamped with rage--and
then he patted Snarleyyow; and as the beast looked wistfully in his
face, Vanslyperken shed tears. "My poor, poor dog! first your eye--and
now your tail--what will your persecutors require next? Perdition seize
them! may perdition be my portion if I am not revenged. Smallbones is
at the bottom of all this; I can--I will be revenged on him."

Vanslyperken rang the bell, and the corporal made his appearance with
the dog's tail still in his hand.

"Lay it down on the table, corporal," said Vanslyperken, mournfully,
"and tell me how this happened."

The corporal then entered into a long detail of the way in which the dog
had been detailed--how he had been cutting up beef--and how, while his
back was turned, and Snarleyyow, as usual, was at the block, picking up
the bits, Moggy Salisbury, who had been allowed to come on board by Mr
Short, had caught up the cleaver and chopped off the dog's tail.

"Was Smallbones at the block?" inquired Vanslyperken.

"He was, mynheer," replied the corporal.

"Who held the dog while his tail was chopped off?" inquired
Vanslyperken; "some one must have held him."

This was a home question but the corporal replied, "Yes, mynheer, some
one must have held the dog."

"You did not hear who it was, or if it were Smallbones?"

"I did not, mynheer," replied the corporal: "but," added he with a
significant look, "I tink I could say."

"Yes, yes, corporal I know who you mean. It was him--I am sure--and as
sure as I sit here I'll be revenged. Bring a swab, corporal, and wipe
up all this blood. Do you think the poor animal will recover?"

"Yes, mynheer; there be togs with tail and togs without tail."

"But the loss of blood--what must be done to stop the bleeding?"

"Dat damn woman Moggy, when I say te tog die--tog bleed to death, she
say, tell Mynheer Vanslyperken dat de best ting for cure de cur be de
red hot poker."

Here Vanslyperken stamped his feet and swore horribly.

"She say, mynheer, it stop all de bleeding."

"I wish she had a hot poker down her body," exclaimed Vanslyperken,
bitterly.

"Go for the swab, corporal, and send Smallbones here."

Smallbones mad