d not even trouble to brush them away. It was
too hot for any more exertion than was absolutely necessary.

Miss Johnson, Arethusa's fox terrier, sat right beside her mistress,
with her small red tongue hanging out at one side of her mouth, and
panting as if her small heart would burst through her ribs.

Miss Johnson had been the gift of Timothy, who owned her mother. But it
had needed all his blandishments to induce Miss Eliza to allow Arethusa
to have the little dog, for Miss Eliza cared nothing whatever for dogs
of any kind or size or degree, either far or near. And once Timothy's
cajolements had carried his point, and Miss Johnson had taken up her
abode at the Farm, she had been hedged about with restrictions. She was
never permitted to set foot inside the sacred precincts of the house,
or even on either porch, or to go near the flower garden; and she knew
it quite as well as anybody. Experience still remains the best of
teachers. When Miss Eliza appeared on her horizon, Miss Johnson would
put what was left of her tail between her legs and scuttle for cover.
She was a wise little dog, and did not have to be told who wielded
brooms and slapped.

But out in the open, her disposition was much less humble. She and
Arethusa were boon companions; her mistress had the whole of that small
heart which thumped so violently. One of her paws rested on a dumpy,
round stick which she had selected as a good plaything, and she gave a
short, sharp bark of frantic appeal when she saw Arethusa lie down on
the stone.

It was never too hot for Miss John to play at chasing sticks; her
energy never flagged in the least, even though it might seem that she
would pant herself to death the very next moment.

Arethusa raised her head to one elbow to look very reproachfully at
Miss Johnson.

"I told you twice it was too hot, Miss Johnson."

Miss Johnson barked. There were almost words in that bark, it was so
entreating.

"Yes, 'tis. There's nothing you can say will make me think it isn't,
and it's very bad for you to run in the heat."

Another bark.

"No, I'm not going to throw it for you. I've told you so over and over.
Besides, you ought not to want to run with an old stick when I'm going
away so soon. You ought to be glad to sit with me while you can."

But Miss Johnson believed in snatching at the pleasures of the present
rather than in preparation for the sorrows of the future. She sat up
quite straight and begged beseechingl