With a puppy it is
still harder. So Colonel was restless. He looked anxiously down the
hill; then he lifted those soft, slantwise eyes to mine very wistfully.
"Go, Colonel," I commanded, pointing to the hollow.
Instead, he came to me and lifted to my knee one of those ponderous
feet of his, and tried to pull me from my log.
"Aren't you coming?" he seemed to say.
"No, old chap," I answered, pulling the long ears gently till he
smiled. "I prefer it here where I can look over the valley, and from
here I can see where Mary lives--down yonder on the hillside; that's
the house by the clump of oaks, where the smoke is curling up so thick."
The slantwise eyes became grave, and the long tail paused. The second
ponderous paw came crashing on my knee.
"Aren't you coming?" young Colonel seemed to say.
[Illustration: "Aren't you coming?" young Colonel seemed to say.]
I was flattering myself that the puppy was choosing my company to the
hunt, for I always value the approval of a dog. Now I found myself
hoping that with a little coddling the young hound would forget the
great doings down in the hollow and would stay with me on the
ridge-top.
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