"Well, Mrs. Moodie, I am off," said Tom, shaking hands with my
sister instead of me. "I suppose I shall see Moodie in London. What
do you think of my dog?" patting him affectionately.
"I think him an ugly beast," said C - -. "Do you mean to take him
with you?"
"An ugly beast! - Duchess a beast? Why she is a perfect
beauty! - Beauty and the beast! Ha, ha, ha! I gave two guineas for
her last night." (I thought of the old adage.) "Mrs. Moodie, your
sister is no judge of a dog."
"Very likely," returned C - -, laughing. "And you go to town
to-night, Mr. Wilson? I thought as you came up to the house that
you were equipped for shooting."
"To be sure; there is capital shooting in Canada."
"So I have heard - plenty of bears and wolves. I suppose you take
out your dog and gun in anticipation?"
"True," said Tom.
"But you surely are not going to take that dog with you?"
"Indeed I am. She is a most valuable brute. The very best venture I
could take. My brother Charles has engaged our passage in the same
vessel."
"It would be a pity to part you," said I. "May you prove as lucky a
pair as Whittington and his cat."
"Whittington!
