A furry gold-white whirlwind, she
flashed off of the vine-shaded veranda and tore at top speed up
the hill to meet the coming car.
No, it was not the Mistress and the Master whose approach stirred
the fiery little collie to lightning activity. Lad knew the purr
of the Place's car and he could distinguish it from any other, as
far as his sensitive ears could catch its sound. But to Lady, all
cars were alike; and all were signals for wild excitement.
Like too many other collies, she had a mania for rushing at any
motor vehicle, and for whizzing along beside it, perilously close
to its fast-moving wheels, barking and screaming hysterically and
bounding upward at its polished sides.
Nor had punishment and scolding cured her of the trait. She was
an addict at car-chasing. She was wholly incurable. There are
such dogs. Soon or late, many of them pay high for the habit.
In early days, Lad also had dashed after motors. But a single
sharp lecture from the Master had taught him that this was one of
the direst breaches of the Place's simple Law. And,
thenceforth,--though he might tremble with eagerness,--he stood
statue-still when an automobile spun temptingly past him.
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