d in--"

"I don't care what his ancestors were," snapped the judge. "He's a
throw-back to the dinosaur or the Great Auk. And I won't judge him as a
collie. Take him out of the ring. You're delaying the others."

A judge's decision is final. Red with angry shame and suppressing an
unworthy desire to kick the luckless Bruce, the Master led the pup back
to his allotted bench. Bruce trotted cheerily along with a maddening
air of having done something to be proud of. Deaf to the Mistress's
sympathy and to her timidly voiced protests, the Master scrawled on an
envelope-back the words "For Sale. Name Your Own Price," and pinned it
on the edge of the bench.

"Here endeth the first lesson in collie-raising, so far as The Place is
concerned," he decreed, stalking back to the ringside to watch the rest
of the judging.

The Mistress lingered behind, to bestow a furtive consolatory pat upon
the disqualified Bruce. Then she joined her husband beside the ring.

It was probably by accident that her skirt brushed sharply against the
bench-edge as she went--knocking the "For Sale" sign down into the
litter of straw below.

But a well-meaning fellow-exhibitor, across the aisle, saw the bit of
paper flutter floorward. This good soul rescued it from the straw and
pinned it back in place.

(The world is full of helpful folk. That is perhaps one reason why the
Millennium's date is still so indefinite.)

An hour later, a man touched the Master on the arm.

"That dog of yours, on Bench 48," began the stranger, "the big pup with
the 'For Sale' sign on his bench. What do you want for him?"

The Mistress was several feet away, talking to the superintendent of
the show. Guiltily, yet gratefully, the Master led the would-be
purchaser back to the benches, without attracting his wife's notice.

A few minutes afterward he returned to where she and the superintendent
were chatting.

"Well," said the Master, trying to steel himself against his wife's
possible disappointment, "I found a buyer for Bruce--a Dr. Halding,
from New York. He likes the pup. Says Bruce looks as if he was strong
and had lots of endurance. I wonder if he wants him for a sledge-dog.
He paid me fifteen dollars for him; and it was a mighty good bargain. I
was lucky to get more than a nickel for such a cur."

The Master shot forth this speech in almost a single rapid breath.
Then, before his wife could reply,--and without daring to look into her
troubled eyes,--he disco