et them have them, Phil," urged his wife, "where would be the
use of keeping the things back after spending your money for them?"

"To teach them a good lesson. I'm afraid both you and I are foolishly
indulgent, Lucy."

"Oh, they'll be good next time."

"This once then, but only this once, unless they keep their word," he
said, producing his gifts--a book or toy for each of his own children, and
a package of sweetmeats which he divided among all present.

He had brought a new dog home with him, but no one but Eddie had noticed
it yet. He was stroking and patting it, saying, "Poor fellow, what kind of
a dog are you?"

"A French poodle," said Mr. Ross, coming up to them, "A good watch dog,
and excellent for scaring up the wild ducks for the sportsmen. Do you and
papa keep up the shooting lessons, master Eddie?"

"Yes, sir; papa has always said he meant to make me as good a shot as
himself, and mamma says it was never his way to give up till a thing's
thoroughly done," returned the boy, proudly.

"And you don't equal him as a shot yet, eh?"

"No, sir! no, indeed! Why, even cousin Cal Conly--a big man--can't shoot
as well as papa."

"What an ugly dog!" exclaimed the other children, gathering round.

"What did you buy it for, papa?" asked Gertrude.

"Not for beauty, certainly," laughed Mr. Ross, stroking and patting the
shaggy head of the dog, who was covered with curly hair of a dirty white,
mottled with dull brown, "but for worth which is far better. Isn't it,
Ranger?"

A wag of his bushy tail, was Ranger's only reply.

"Will he bite?" asked little Herbert, shrinking back as the newcomer
turned toward him.

"Tramps and burglars; but not good children," replied Mr. Ross. "You
needn't be afraid of him, my little man."

Through the evening there was a great deal of romping between the children
and the new dog, but little Elsie seemed unusually quiet, scarcely
stirring from her mother's side. She was suffering with toothache, but
kept her trouble to herself; principally, because she had a great dread of
the dentist's instruments.

But in the night the pain grew so severe that she could not keep from
crying and groaning. She did not want to wake any one, so buried her face
in the pillow to smother the sound of her sobs; but presently a gentle
hand touched her caressingly, and mamma's sweet voice asked, "What ails my
little daughter?"

"O mamma I did not mean to wake you!" cried the little girl sitting up
w