He had ruled as benevolent
monarch of the Place's Little People; had given loyal service to
his two deities, the Mistress and the Master; and had stood
courteously aloof from the rest of mankind. And he had been very,
very happy.
Now, in a breath, all this was changed. Ever at his heels, ever
waiting to find some new way to pester him, was a human too small
and too weak to attack;--a human who was forever setting the
collie's high-strung nerves on edge or else actively hurting him.
Lad could not understand it. And as the child gained in health
and strength, Lad's lot grew increasingly miserable.
The Mistress and the Master were keenly aware of conditions. And
they did their best,--a useless best,--to mitigate them for the
dog. They labored over Cyril, to make him leave Lad alone. They
pointed out to him the mean cowardice of his course of torture.
They even threatened to send him to nearer relatives until his
parents' return. All in vain. Faced with the most undeniable
proofs, the child invariably would lie. He denied that he had
ever ill-used Lad in any way; and would weep, in righteous
indignation, at the charges.
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