Mrs. Terhune taking
afternoon tea, entirely surrounded by magnificently coated collies. You
will also find, if you stray into a bookstore this autumn, a book with a
jacket drawn by Charles Livingston Bull--a jacket from which looms a
colossal collie. He carries in a firmly knotted shawl or blanket or sheet
or something (the knot clenched between his teeth) a new-born babe.
New-born or approximately so. The title of this book is _Further
Adventures of Lad_.

Mr. Terhune writes the best dog stories. Read a little bit from the first
chapter of _Further Adventures of Lad_:

"Even the crate which brought the new dog to the Place failed somehow to
destroy the illusion of size and fierceness. But the moment the crate door
was opened the delusion was wrecked by Lad himself.

"Out on to the porch he walked. The ramshackle crate behind him had a
ridiculous air of chrysalis from which some bright thing had departed. For
a shaft of sunlight was shimmering athwart the veranda floor. And into the
middle of the warm bar of radiance Laddie stepped--and stood.

"His fluffy puppy-coat of wavy mahogany-and-white caught a million
sunbeams, reflecting them back in tawny-orange glints and in a dazzle as
of snow. His forepaws were absurdly small even for a puppy's. Above them
the ridging of the stocky leg bones gave as clear promise of mighty size
and strength as did the amazingly deep little chest and square shoulders.

"Here one day would stand a giant among dogs, powerful as a timber-wolf,
lithe as a cat, as dangerous to foes as an angry tiger; a dog without fear
or treachery; a dog of uncanny brain and great lovingly loyal heart and,
withal, a dancing sense of fun. A dog with a soul.

"All this, any canine physiologist might have read from the compact frame,
the proud head carriage, the smoulder in the deep-set sorrowful dark eyes.
To the casual observer, he was but a beautiful and appealing and
wonderfully cuddleable bunch of puppyhood.

"Lad's dark eyes swept the porch, the soft swelling green of the lawn. The
flash of fire-blue lake among the trees below. Then he deigned to look at
the group of humans at one side of him. Gravely, impersonally, he surveyed
them; not at all cowed or strange in his new surroundings; courteously
inquisitive as to the twist of luck that had set him down here and as to
the people who, presumably, were to be his future companions.

"Perhaps the stout little heart quivered just a bit, if memory went bac