TAG; OR, THE CHIEN BOULE DOG
and the reflection that in about one hour he and his bride would be enjoying a cosy tête-à-tête luncheon in one of the city’s palatial hotels. His jaw fell when he saw his wife racing excitedly towards him with the small boy trotting in her wake
“Horrid creature! She won’t keep him; said to take him to the police; she was positively clammy about it!” Patty was breathing hard and her cheeks were pink with wrath.
Her husband whistled, looked sadly at the weed in his hand as if asking where was now its solace, then suggested he should speak to the station master and see if he would put forth the hand of fellowship. So leaving Bateese pledged not to move from his bench, they bearded the busy official. Pat told the tale of their enforced adoption of the small unknown quite eloquently until he reached the point where Cairlo came in. Then he
