some one
had lost him. They made some inquiries the next day, and found that he
belonged to a New York gentleman who had come to Fairport in the summer
in a yacht. This dog did not like the yacht. He came ashore in a boat
whenever he got a chance, and if he could not come in a boat, he would
swim. He was a tramp, his master said, and he wouldn't stay long in any
place. The Morrises were so amused with his impudence, that they did not
send him away, but said every day, "Surely he will be gone to-morrow."

However, Mr. Dandy had gotten into comfortable quarters, and he had
no intention of changing them, for a while at least. Then he was very
handsome, and had such a pleasant way with him, that the family could
not help liking him. I never cared for him. He fawned on the Morrises,
and pretended he loved them, and afterward turned around and laughed and
sneered at them in a way that made me very angry. I used to lecture him
sometimes, and growl about him to Jim, but Jim always said, "Let him
alone. You can't do him any good. He was born bad. His mother wasn't
good. He tells me that she had a bad name among all the dogs in her
neighborhood. She was a thief and a runaway." Though he provoked me so
often, yet I could not help laughing at some of his stories, they were
so funny.

We were lying out in the sun, on the platform at the back of the house,
one day, and he had been more than usually provoking, so I got up to
leave him. He put himself in my way, however, and said, coaxingly,
"Don't be cross, old fellow. I'll tell you some stories to amuse you,
old boy. What shall they be about?"

"I think the story of your life would be about as interesting as
anything you could make up," I said, dryly.

"All right, fact or fiction, whichever you like. Here's a fact,
plain and unvarnished. Born and bred in New York. Swell stable. Swell
coachman. Swell master. Jewelled fingers of ladies poking at me, first
thing I remember. First painful experience being sent to vet. to have
ears cut."

"What's a vet.?" I said.

"A veterinary animal doctor. Vet. didn't cut ears enough. Master sent
me back. Cut ears again. Summer time, and flies bad. Ears got sore and
festered, flies very attentive. Coachman set little boy to brush flies
off, but he'd run out in yard and leave me. Flies awful. Thought they'd
eat me up, or else I'd shake out brains trying to get rid of them.
Mother should have stayed home and licked my ears, but was cruising
about