er,
an the love is mootooal. Ve've lived together now--off an' on--for the
matter o' six months. Vell, I gits employment in a factory about
fifteen miles from here, in which no dogs is allowed. In coorse, I
can't throw up my sitivation, sir, can I? Neither can my doggie give up
his master wot he's so fond of, so I'm obleeged to leave 'im in charge
of a friend, with stric' orders to keep 'im locked up till I'm fairly
gone. Vell, off I goes, but he manages to escape, an' runs arter me.
Now, wot can a feller do but drive 'im 'ome with sticks an' stones,
though it do go to my 'eart to do it? but if he goes to the factory he's
sure to be shot, or scragged, or drownded, or somethink; so you see,
sir, it's out o' pure kindness I'm a peltin' of 'im."

Confess that I felt somewhat doubtful of the truth of this story; but,
in order to prevent any expression of my face betraying me, I stooped
and patted the dog while the man spoke. It received my attentions with
evident delight. A thought suddenly flashed on me:--

"Will you sell your little dog?" I asked.

"Vy, sir," he replied, with some hesitation, "I don't quite like to do
that. He's such a pure breed, and--and he's so fond o' me."

"But have you not told me that you are obliged to part with him?"

I thought the man looked puzzled for a moment, but only for a moment.
Turning to me with a bland smile, he said, "Ah, sir I that's just where
it is. I am obleeged to part with him, but I ain't obleeged to sell
him. If I on'y part with 'im, my friend keeps 'im for me, and we may
meet again, but if I sell 'im, he's gone for ever! Don't you see?
Hows'ever, if you wants 'im wery bad, I'll do it on one consideration."

"And that is?"

"That you'll be good to 'im."

I began to think I had misjudged the man. "What's his name?" I asked.

Again for one moment there was that strange, puzzled look in the man's
face, but it passed, and he turned with another of his bland smiles.

"His name, sir? Ah, his name? He ain't got no name, sir!"

"No name!" I exclaimed, in surprise.

"No, sir; I object to givin' dogs names on principle. It's too much
like treatin' them as if they wos Christians; and, you know, they
couldn't be Christians if they wanted to ever so much. Besides, wotever
name you gives 'em, there must be so many other dogs with the same name,
that you stand a chance o' the wrong dog comin' to 'e ven you calls."

"That's a strange reason. How then do you c