t that it was to be
taken, and I gave it a friendly shake.

Hereupon there was a chorus of short sharp whining barks and snaps from
the other dogs, all of which began to strain at their chains with
renewed vigour.

"Go and pat 'em all," said Mr Solomon; "they'll make friends now."

I went to the great shaggy Newfoundland, who smelt me, and then threw
himself up on his hind legs, and hanging against his chain put out his
tongue in the most rollicking fashion, and offered me both his hands--I
mean paws--in token of friendship. Then the retriever literally danced,
and yelped, and jumped over his chain, favouring me with a lick or two
on the hand, while the two spotted coach-dogs cowered down, licked my
boots, and yelped as I patted them in turn.

Only so many dogs, who barked again as I left them, but it seemed to do
me good, and I felt better and readier to help Mr Solomon when he
called me to aid in unharnessing the horse, which trotted of its own
free-will into its stable, while we ran the cart back into the shed, and
lifted my box out on to the stones.

"That'll be all right till we fetch it," said Mr Solomon in his quiet
dry way, and he led the way into the stable, where, as I was thinking
how hard and unfriendly he seemed, he went up to the horse, patted it
kindly, and ended by going to a bin, filling a large measure with oats;
and taking them to the horse, which gave a snort of satisfaction as they
were turned into its manger.

"Shall I get a pail of water for him, sir?" I said.

He looked at me and nodded, and I went out to a great pump in the middle
of the yard with a hook on its spout, upon which I was able to hang the
stable pail as I worked hard to throw the long handle up and down.

"Wages!" said Mr Solomon, taking the pail from me and holding it for
the horse to drink.

For the moment I felt confused, not knowing whether he meant that as a
question about what wages I required, but he turned his back, and by
degrees I found that he meant that the corn and water were the horse's
wages.

He busied himself about the horse for some minutes in a quiet
punctilious way, for the sour-looking man had gone, and as I waited
about, the great yard seemed with its big wall and gates, and
dog-kennels, such a cold cheerless place that the trees had all turned
the shabby parts of their backs to it and were looking the other way.
Everything was very prim and clean and freshly painted, and only in one
place could