when I dream that dream again--I shall be able to earn
more money."

"'Tis shame that one of thy name should have to work for money," said
the nurse.

"It _isn't_ my name there," said Dickie; "and old Sebastian told me
every one ought to do some duty to his country, or he wasn't worth his
meat and ale. And you don't know how good it is having money that you've
_earned yourself_."

"I ought to," she said; "I've earned mine long enough. Now haste and
dress--and then breakfast and thy fencing lesson."

When the fencing lesson was over, Dickie hesitated. He wanted, of
course, to hurry off to Sebastian and to go on learning how to make a
galleon. But also he wanted to learn some trade that he could teach
Beale at Deptford, and he knew, quite as surely as any master craftsman
could have known it, that nothing which required delicate handling, such
as wood-carving or the making of toy boats, could ever be mastered by
Beale. But Beale was certainly fond of dogs. Dickie remembered how
little True had cuddled up to him and nestled inside his coat when he
lay down to sleep under the newspapers and the bits of sacking in
Lavender Terrace, Rosemary Lane.

So Dickie went his way to the kennels to talk to the kennelman. He had
been there before with Master Roger Fry, his fencing master, but he had
never spoken to the kennelman. And when he got to the kennels he knocked
on the door of the kennelman's house and called out, "What ho! within
there!" just as people do in old plays. And the door was thrown open by
a man in a complete suit of leather, and when Dickie looked in that
man's face he saw that it was the face of the man who had lived next
door in Lavender Terrace, Rosemary Lane--the man who dug up the garden
for the parrot seed.

"Why," said Dickie, "it's you!"

"Who would it be but me, little master?" the man asked with a respectful
salute, and Dickie perceived that though this man had the face of the
Man Next Door, he had not the Man Next Door's memories.

"Do you live here?" he asked cautiously--"always, I mean."

"Where else should I live?" the man asked, "that have served my lord,
your father, all my time, boy and man, and know every hair of every dog
my lord owns."

Dickie thought that was a good deal to know--and so it was.

He stayed an hour at the kennels and came away knowing very much more
about dogs than he did before, though some of the things he learned
would surprise a modern veterinary surgeon very m