Away, away!"

"Are they the same kind of beings as you and I?" asked the Snow Man.

"Well, they belong to the master," retorted the yard dog. "Certainly
people know very little who were only born yesterday. I can see that in
you. I have age and experience. I know every one here in the house, and
I know there was once a time when I did not lie out here in the cold,
fastened to a chain. Away, away!"

"The cold is delightful," said the Snow Man. "But do tell me, tell me;
only you must not clank your chain so, for it jars within me when you do
that."

"Away, away!" barked the yard dog. "I'll tell you: they said I was a
pretty little fellow, once; then I used to lie in a velvet-covered
chair, up at the master's house, and sit in the mistress's lap; they
used to kiss my nose, and wipe my paws with an embroidered handkerchief,
and I was called 'Ami, dear Ami, sweet Ami.' But after a while I grew
too big for them, and they sent me away to the housekeeper's room; so I
came to live on the lower story. You can look into the room from where
you stand, and see where I was once master--for I was, indeed, master to
the housekeeper. It was a much smaller room than those upstairs, but I
was more comfortable, for I was not continually being taken hold of and
pulled about by the children, as I had been. I received quite as good
food and even better. I had my own cushion, and there was a stove--it is
the finest thing in the world at this season of the year. I used to go
under the stove and lie down. Ah, I still dream of that stove. Away,
away!"

"Does a stove look beautiful?" asked the Snow Man. "Is it at all like
me?"

"It is just the opposite of you," said the dog. "It's as black as a crow
and has a long neck and a brass knob; it eats firewood, and that makes
fire spurt out of its mouth. One has to keep on one side or under it, to
be comfortable. You can see it through the window from where you stand."

Then the Snow Man looked, and saw a bright polished thing with a brass
knob, and fire gleaming from the lower part of it. The sight of this
gave the Snow Man a strange sensation; it was very odd, he knew not what
it meant, and he could not account for it. But there are people who are
not men of snow who understand what the feeling is. "And why did you
leave her?" asked the Snow Man, for it seemed to him that the stove must
be of the female sex. "How could you give up such a comfortable place?"

"I was obliged to," replied the ya