clipped poodles and toy spaniels; in
all the fashionable churches you will see dogs bowed at their devotions.

It was a fair struggle. The child had its chance and was beaten. The
child couldn't dress: the dog could. The child couldn't or wouldn't
pray: the dog could,--or at least he learnt how. No doubt it came
awkwardly at first, but he set himself to it till nowadays a French dog
can enter a cathedral with just as much reverence as his mistress, and
can pray in the corner of the pew with the same humility as hers. When
you get to know the Parisian dogs, you can easily tell a Roman Catholic
dog from a Low Church Anglican. I knew a dog once that was
converted,--everybody said from motives of policy,--from a
Presbyterian,--but, stop, it's not fair to talk about it,--the dog is
dead now, and it's not right to speak ill of its belief, no matter how
mistaken it may have been.

However, let that pass, what I was saying was that between the child and
the dog, each had its chance in a fair open contest and the child is
nowhere.

People, who have never seen, even from the outside, the Parisian world
of fashion, have no idea to what an extent it has been invaded by the
dog craze. Dogs are driven about in motors and open carriages. They are
elaborately clipped and powdered and beribboned by special "coiffeurs."
They wear little buckled coats and blankets, and in motors,--I don't
feel quite sure of this,--they wear motor goggles. There are at least
three or four--and for all I know there may be more--fashionable shops
in Paris for dogs' supplies. There is one that any curious visitor may
easily find at once in the Rue des Petits Champs close to the Avenue de
l'Opera. There is another one midway in the galleries of the Palais
Royal. In these shops you will see, in the first place, the chains,
collars, and whips that are marks of the servitude in which dogs still
live (though, by the way, there are already, I think, dog suffragettes
heading a very strong movement). You will see also the most delicious,
fashionable dog coats, very, very simple, fastened in front with one
silver clasp, only one. In the Palais Royal shop they advertise, "Newest
summer models for 1913 in dogs' tailoring." There are also dogs' beds
made in wickerwork in cradle shape with eider-down coverlets worked over
with silk.

A little while ago, the New York papers were filled with an account of a
dog's lunch given at the Vanderbilt Hotel by an ultra-fashiona