TAG; OR, THE CHIEN BOULE DOG
“Monsieur,” answered the man, his face white with disappointment, “it ees ze boule dog of ze cab, but mon petit he ees not ere, an’ for les autres I know zem not.” Then he
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broke into entreaty. “Ah, monsieur, it ees one treek you put upon me—wan leetle treek. You have heem safe, mine pauvre petit. But do not keep me to be unsure, for I so lof mine leetle one.” He looked about with wild eagerness, as if expecting the lost child to rush
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