Chapter 5 - Page 2

represented a woman, a young mother, flinging her
little son over her head with one hand and catching him in the
other, and I was entertaining myself on the hearth-rug with this
pretty domestic scene when I heard an unwonted sound from
Porthos, and, looking up, I saw that noble and melancholic
countenance on the broad grin. I shuddered and was for putting
the toy away at once, but he sternly struck down my arm with his,
and signed that I was to continue. The unmanly chuckle always
came, I found, when the poor lady dropped her babe, but the whole
thing entranced him; he tried to keep his excitement down by
taking huge draughts of water; he forgot all his niceties of
conduct; he sat in holy rapture with the toy between his paws,
took it to bed with him, ate it in the night, and searched for it
so longingly next day that I had to go out and buy him the man
with the scythe. After that we had everything of note, the
bootblack boy, the toper with bottle, the woolly rabbit that
squeaks when you hold it in your mouth; they all vanished as
inexplicably as the lady, but I dared not tell him my suspicions,
for he suspected also and his gentle heart would have mourned had
I confirmed his fears.

The dame in the temple of toys which we frequent thinks I want
them for a little boy and calls him "the precious" and "the
lamb," the while Porthos is standing gravely by my side. She is
a motherly soul, but over-talkative.

"And how is the dear lamb to-day?" she begins, beaming.

"Well, ma'am, well," I say, keeping tight grip of his collar.

"This blighty weather is not affecting his darling appetite?"

"No, ma'am, not at all." (She would be considerably surprised if
informed that he dined to-day on a sheepshead, a loaf, and three
cabbages, and is suspected of a leg of mutton.)

"I hope he loves his toys?"

"He carries them about with him everywhere, ma'am." (Has the one
we bought yesterday with him now, though you might not think it
to look at him.)

"What do you say to a box of tools this time?"

"I think not, ma'am."

"Is the deary fond of digging?"

"Very partial to digging." (We shall find the leg of mutton some
day.)

"Then perhaps a weeny spade and a pail?"

She got me to buy a model of Canterbury Cathedral once, she was
so insistent, and Porthos gave me his mind about it when we got
home. He detests the kindergarten system, and as she is absurdly
prejudiced in its favour we have had to try other shops. We went
to the Lowther Arcade for the rocking-horse. Dear Lowther
Arcade! Ofttimes have we wandered agape among