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Updated: May 27, 2025
"How a rubbishy leaf o' dog-wood came to get there, is more nor I can account for," she said crossly, as she swept it away into the fire, before 'Zekiel could interfere to rescue it. Granny Pyetangle's recovery was wonderfully rapid.
He hugged the despised china dog fondly to him, and carried it indoors to put in a place of honour in Granny Pyetangle's oak corner-cupboard where it looked out proudly from behind the glass doors, in company with the best tea-cups, a shepherdess tending a woolly lamb, two greyhounds on stony-white cushions, and Grandfather Pyetangle's horn snuff-box.
A pail of water stood in the middle of the floor; and close by was the Fozzy-gog himself, with a mop between his paws, working away with the greatest energy. He was about four times his ordinary size, as upright as 'Zekiel himself, and was directing the work of several other china dogs; amongst whom 'Zekiel immediately recognized his own property, Granny Pyetangle's birthday present!
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