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I like dogs well enough. That is, real doggy dogs; not these little imitation parlor insects, like Poms and Pekes and such. Ain't raisin' that kind, are you, Joe?" Joe chuckles, unbuttons me from the apron, brushes a lot of short hair down my neck, and holds a hand mirror so I can get a rear elevation view of my noble dome. "Hah!" says he. "You must see. I show you dogs what is dogs. Come."
"You are not going out, Reginald?" she asked, seeing that he was. "I'll be back for tea, mater," said Reggie weakly, plunging his hands into his jacket pockets. Snip. Off came a head. Reggie almost jumped. "I should have thought you could have spared your mother your last afternoon," said she. Silence. The Pekes stared. They understood every word of the mater's.
"We've done our courting, and anyway look here, Bill, there's only three things I can do. Have a baby " "Cut it out, Warb; I haven't the means just now. And it might be twins." "That's so. Well, the second thing is to reform this town. It's going to the dogs to little, silly Pekes and Poms. I can save it, and correct its ways and put it on a sound utilitarian basis."
Promenading up and down the garden path with Chinny and Biddy, the ancient Pekes, was the mater. Of course Reginald was fond of the mater and all that. She she meant well, she had no end of grit, and so on. But there was no denying it, she was rather a grim parent.
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