e the perjured statement of some man, or even woman, who, from
spite against the owner, is willing to assert, "the dog is vicious."

"He is very imprudent, a dog is," said Jerome K. Jerome. "He
never makes it his business to inquire whether you are in
the right or wrong--never bothers as to whether you are
going up or down life's ladder--never asks whether you are
rich or poor, silly or wise, saint or sinner. You are his
pal. That is enough for him, and come luck or misfortune,
good repute or bad, honour or shame, he is going to stick to
you, to comfort you, guard you, and give his life for you,
if need be--foolish, brainless, soulless dog!

"Ah! staunch old friend, with your deep, clear eyes, and
bright quick glances that take in all one has to say, before
one has time to speak it, do you know you are only an animal
and have no mind?

"Do you know that dull-eyed, gin-sodden lout leaning against
the post out there is immeasurably your intellectual
superior? Do you know that every little-minded selfish
scoundrel, who never had a thought that was not mean and
base--whose every action is a fraud and whose every
utterance is a lie; do you know that these are as much
superior to you as the sun is to the rush-light, you
honourable, brave-hearted, unselfish brute?

"They are men, you know, and men are the greatest, noblest,
wisest, and best beings in the universe. Any man will tell
you that."

Are the men whom we elect to public office our masters or our
servants? If the former, let us change our form of government; if the
latter, let us hope that from somewhere a little light may penetrate
their craniums and that they may be induced to give the dog a chance.

Twilight

The birds were hushed into silence,
The clouds had sunk from sight,
And the great trees bowed to the summer breeze
That kissed the flowers good-night.

The stars came out in the cool still air,
From the mansions of the blest,
And softly, over the dim blue hills,
Night came to the world with rest.

Women's Clothes in Men's Books

When asked why women wrote better novels than men, Mr. Richard Le
Gallienne is said to have replied, more or less conclusively, "They
don't"; thus recalling _Punch's_ famous advice to those about to
marry.

Happily there is no segregation