easant to think that for a short time I could do just as I
liked. I soon found, however, that this was very far from the case.

"At first I trotted along the pavement in the best spirits, meeting very
few dogs, and those of a very rough kind, so that I did not care to
speak to them. It was, as you remember, a very hot day. The ground felt
quite burning under my feet, and soon I should have been thankful to be
carried a little while. I got thirsty too, and I began to look about for
a shady place where I could lie down and rest out of the sun. Presently
I came to a narrow turning, which looked dark and cool compared to the
bright hot streets. It was quiet too, for there was only a man in the
yard washing a cart, and a rough-coated grey dog sitting near. I made up
my mind to try this, and trotting up to the dog made a few remarks about
the heat of the weather. From his replies I soon perceived that he was
quite a common dog, though very good-natured in manner, and he shortly
told me he belonged to the green-grocer and that his name was 'Bob'.

"We continued to talk, and before long I learnt a good deal about his
way of life, which interested me extremely from its great contrast to my
own. In spite of its hardships there was something attractive about it
too, though quite out of the question for anyone of delicacy and
refinement. For Bob was a working dog. He had to be at Covent Garden by
daybreak with his master, to go on all his rounds with him, and to take
care of the vegetables in the cart while he called at the different
houses.

"'And what do you get for all that?' I asked.

"'I get my food, and a good many kicks sometimes,' he answered.

"'Poor dog!' I exclaimed, for my heart was filled with pity for him, and
I no longer thought his an attractive life. 'Why don't you run away?'

"Bob grinned. 'I'm not so stupid as that,' he replied. 'Dogs that run
away come to bad ends. Besides, I'm happy enough. I get a holiday
sometimes, and a walk in the park, and on Sunday I can do what I like.'

"'Dear me!' I exclaimed languidly. 'What a dreadful life! Now, _I_ have
nothing to do but to please myself every day in the week, and as for
the park, I go there so often I'm perfectly sick of it.'

"'Do you get your Sundays out?' asked Bob.

"I hesitated. 'This is really my first Sunday out,' I replied at length,
'but I intend in future----'

"'What's your name?' rudely interrupted Bob.

"He certainly had no manners at all, b