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“Why,” she said, “you funny dog! I’m not angry with you, even if you didn’t come as soon as you should have. You’re a nice puppums and—why, where’s your collar?”

I didn’t say anything, of course. Instead I pounced on a twig and shook it and ran around with it in my mouth. I thought perhaps she would forget about the collar. But she didn’t even smile.

“Naughty Fritz!” she said. “What have you done with your collar?”

Freya came up and looked at me in a way which said: “There! Now you are in for it! And I’m glad, because you were selfish and wouldn’t give me any.” And then she trotted over to the Mistress with her tail curled up very proudly as much as to say: “See what a good dog I am! I haven’t lost my collar!”

“You wait till I catch you,” I growled.

Then the Baby came out and the Mistress said: “Look, Baby, at what a naughty, bad dog Fritz has been. He’s lost his nice new collar.”

Baby laughed and gurgled. “Collar!” she said.

“Yes, dear, and see how ashamed he looks. Naughty dog!”

“Mild’ed tooked it off,” said the Baby.