est college policeman, who, Sigurd's
neighbor and friend, solved the problem by consistently turning his
back and refusing to see the dog at all. But one well-nigh fatal day a
special officer, called in by our stern selectmen for the purpose of
hunting down all lawless dogs, beheld Sigurd disporting himself in the
public road, his muzzle, as so often, gayly flapping under his chin.
According to the man's bewildered account, no sooner had he drawn his
revolver and taken good aim at the offender, than "a mob of girls,
coming from nowhere and everywhere," suddenly enveloped his intended
victim and swept the dog off in their midst to the campus. But the
officer had a determined jaw of his own. He kept watch for that fawn
collie and the next time he caught sight of Sigurd, again with a
swinging muzzle, he ran a rope through our poor boy's collar and was
dragging him off to the town lockup and execution ground when again an
excited throng of nymphs blocked the way.

"How can you be so cruel?" blazed one of Sigurd's fondest playmates, as
a dozen arms were thrown about the collie.

"I'm no rougher with that there dog than he is with me," protested the
young officer, purple not only through embarrassment but from the tug
of war in which he and Sigurd had been matching strength. "He may be
your college pet, but his manners ain't no-way ladylike."

Meanwhile one of the girlish hands caressing Sigurd's neck must have
succeeded in slipping a buckle, for suddenly his head shot back through
the collar, left as a keepsake to the dog-catcher, and our innocent was
far on his way toward the safe shelter of home.

This period of persecution extended over some months, for the muzzles
had a bad effect on dog tempers and there were more cases of snapping
and nipping than the town, in Sigurd's lifetime, had ever known, though
no trace of rabies was detected. It was an anxious season for
dog-owners. Our neighboring professor of psychology, she who
specialized in spaniels, was overheard by a guest one evening wearily
informing a new litter of eight:

"Puppies, this has been a sad day. This morning your ma bit the
postman, and this afternoon your pa bit the doctor."

It was a relief to many households when at last the selectmen put their
minds on something else.

Although Sigurd was a member of all classes, as well as faculty, and of
all societies, he bore, as mascot, a special relation to the Class of
1911, whose color he wore by grace o