of utter inconstancy.
Nothing will entice him away from John on one day, neither threats nor
persuasion. The next day he will cut John dead in the road, with no sign
of recognition. He sees John, and he goes slowly and deliberately out of
his way to pass John by, without a look or a sniff. He comes up-stairs
every morning when his master's shaving-water is produced. He watches
intently the entire course of his master's toilet; he follows his
master, step by step, from bed to bureau, from closet to chair; he lies
across his master's feet; he minds no sprinkling from his master's
sponge, so anxious is he that his master shall not slip away, and go to
his breakfast without him. And then, before his master is ready to
start, Roy goes off to breakfast, alone--at the Williamsons'! He will
torment his master sometimes for hours to be taken out to walk; he will
interrupt his master's work, disturb his master's afternoon nap, and
refuse all invitations to run away for a walk on his own account. And
the moment he and his master have started, he will join the first
absolute stranger he meets, and walk off with that stranger in the
opposite direction, and in the most confidential manner possible!

There are days when he will do everything he should do, everything he is
told to do, everything he is wanted to do. There are days and days
together when he does nothing that is right, when he is disobedient,
disrespectful, disobliging, disagreeable, even disreputable. And all
this on purpose!

It is hard to know what to do with Roy: how to treat him; how to bring
him up. He may improve as he grows older. Perhaps to his unfortunate
infirmity may be ascribed his uncertainty and his variability of temper
and disposition. It is possible that he cannot hear even when he wants
to hear. It is not impossible that he is making-believe all the time.
One great, good thing can be said for Roy: he is never really cross; he
never snaps; he never snarls; he never bites his human friends, no
matter how great the provocation may be. Roy is a canine enigma, the
most eccentric of characters. His family cannot determine whether he is
a gump or a genius. But they know he is nice; and they like him!

Long may Roy be spared to wag his earthly tail, and to bay deep-mouthed
welcome to his own particular people as they draw near home. How the
three dogs who have gone on ahead agree now with each other, and how
they will agree with Roy, no man can say. They did