And, at the last, these
lesser dogs had won the victory without his aid. Still worse, his
beloved Mistress,--for whom he had so blithely staked his aged
life,--the Mistress had held him back by force from joining in
the delirious last phases of the battle. She had made him stand
tamely by, while others finished the grand work he had begun.
It was not fair. And Laddie let everyone in sight know it was not
fair; and that he had no intention of being petted into a good
humor.
Still, when, by and by, the Mistress sat down on the floor beside
him and told him what a darling and wonderful and heroic dog he
was and how proud she felt of his courage, and when her dear hand
rumpled the soft hair behind his ears,--well, somehow Lad found
himself laying his head in her lap; and making croony low sounds
at her and pretending to bite her little white hand.
It was always hard to stay offended at the Mistress.
CHAPTER XI. The Guard
Lad was old--very, very old. He had passed his sixteenth
birthday. For a collie, sixteen is as old as is ninety-five for a
human.
Pages:
331
332
333
334
335
336
337
338
339
340
341
342
343
344
345
346
347
348
349
350
351
352
353
354
355