"It's a shame, Laddie!" declared the Mistress, at one such time.
"It's a SHAME! Why, you are worth a million of those crazy
playdogs! You're a million times wiser and beautifuller and more
lovable. Why do you bother with them? Master and I are ever so
much better company for you; and we love to have you with us.
Stay right here, and forget them."
Lad, perhaps, understood the actual meaning of one word in ten of
the advice. But he understood and loved the Mistress's sweet
voice and the caress of her cool little hand; and the sympathy in
her tone. It all meant much to Laddie. Very much indeed. And he
laid his mighty head against her knee; happy in the comfort of
touch and voice.
Nevertheless, that wistful glint was ever lurking in his deep-set
eyes, nowadays. And his gayly trumpeting bark rang out less often
and less jubilantly than of old. He took to moping. And he spent
more time than before in his beloved "cave," under the music-room
piano.
Moping and solitude are no more beneficial to dogs than to
humans. The Master racked his brain for some way of bringing the
splendid collie back to his olden spirits.
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