admiring her pet, "this Mr.
Poulton, the tax-gatherer, because I refused to give him our Chloe, whom
my boy is so fond of that he shares his meals with her, poor fellow, has
laid an information against us for keeping a sporting dog--I don't know
what the proper word is--and has had us surcharged; and the first that
ever I have heard of it is by this letter, from which I find that I must
pay I don't know how much money by Saturday next, or else my goods will
be seized and sold. And I have but just managed to pay my rent, and
where to get a farthing I can't tell. I dare say he would let us off now
if I would but give him Chloe; but that I can't find in my heart to do.
He's a hard man, and a bad dog-master. I've all along been afraid that
we must part with Chloe, now that she's growing up like, because of our
living so near the preserves--"

"Oh, grandmother!" interrupted Tom, "poor Chloe!"

"But I can't give her to _him_. Don't cry so, Tom! I'd sooner have my
little goods sold, and lie upon the boards. I should not mind parting
with her if she were taken good care of, but I never will give her to
him."

"Is this the first you have heard of the matter?" inquired my father;
"you ought to have had notice in time to appeal."

"I never heard a word till to-day."

"Poulton seems to say that he sent a letter, nevertheless, and offers to
prove the sending, if need be; it's not in our division, not even in our
county, and I am afraid that in this matter of the surcharge I can
do nothing," observed my father; "though I have no doubt but it's a
rascally trick to come by the dog. She's a pretty creature," continued
be, stooping to pat her, and examining her head and mouth with the air
of a connoisseur in canine affairs, "a very fine creature! How old is
she?"

"Not quite a twelvemonth, sir. She was pupped on the sixteenth of last
October, grandmother's birthday, of all the days in the year," said Tom,
somewhat comforted by his visiter's evident sympathy.

"The sixteenth of October! Then Mr. Poulton may bid good-bye to his
surcharge; for unless she was six months old on the fifth of April, she
cannot be taxed for this year--so his letter is so much waste paper.
I'll write this very night to the chairman of the commissioners, and
manage the matter for you. And I'll also write to Master Poulton, and
let him know that I'll acquaint the board if he gives you any farther
trouble. You're sure that you can prove the day she was puppe