winked his eyes very vigorously. I
was used to his manner now, and could understand his meaning without the
necessity of words. Both his looks and gestures told me that he thought
as I did, and I only waited till I could use my own legs freely, to set
about a resolution I had been forming in my mind.

It was a happy day when I could again mix in the bustle of the streets,
and find my strength once more restored. The first use I made of it was
to go to the great house where the chief dogs of Caneville are accustomed
to sit during a certain time of the day to judge matters relating to the
city. When I arrived, they were almost alone, and I was therefore able to
present myself without delay, and explain my business.

I began by thanking them for what they had done for me and my old friend
Nip, in providing us with a house and with so many comforts. I told them,
although the goodness of Nip rendered him worthy of every attention, as
he had grown old in a useful and laborious life, I had no such claims. I
was still young--my strength had come back to me--I had no right to eat
the food of idleness where so many dogs, more deserving than I, were
often in want of a bone, but whose modesty prevented them making known
their necessities. I would still thankfully enjoy the home, which the
kindness of the great animals of Caneville had furnished me, but they
must permit me to work for it--they must permit me to do something which
might be useful to the city in return, for I should devour the fare
provided for me with a great deal more appetite, if I could say to myself
when I felt hungry, "Job, brother Job, eat your dinner, for you have
_earned_ it."

The assembly of dogs heard me with great attention to the end; not a bark
interrupted my little speech, not a movement disturbed my attention. I
was pleased to see that tails wagged with approbation when I had
concluded, and was charmed to hear the chief among them, who was white
with age, express himself _delighted_, yes, that was the word, delighted
with my spirit.

"We are pleased, Job," he said, at the end of his reply, "we are pleased
to observe that there are yet _true dogs_ in Caneville; there have been
animals calling themselves so, whose character was so base, and whose
manner was so cringing, that they have brought disrepute upon the name;
and we are sorry to say that in many countries the title of a _dog_ is
given to the vilest and most worthless creatures. All the finer