"Why, then, don't Rough bark? " I
observed, rather tartly.

"Poor fellow," replied my wife, "I dare
say he's asleep in his kennel."

Another half-hour of undisturbed reading,
and then I thought I would smoke a cigar
beneath the glimpses of the moon. Standing
on the high flight of steps which gives such a
noble aspect to my semi-detached mansion,
I noticed with surprise that the garden-door
stood half open. At first I fancied that
the household were on the point of entering;
but as I heard no whispered last words and
saw no policeman, I concluded they had
neglected to shut the door, and then a kind of
misgiving came over me. "Rough! " I
exclaimed, but there was no response. I
whistled and called again. No answer—no
appearance. "My dear," said I re-entering
the house, and uttering a hasty, but I trust
an excusable word; "the dog's gone!—
somebody has walked him off!"

I forbear to describe the scene that followed:
the tears and protestations of the household,
who vowed it was no fault of theirs—the
clamour that was raised for the police—the
hunting in all sorts of impossible places for the
absent animal, and the complete upsetting of
the establishment until long after midnight. If
you wish properly to appreciate this state
of things, marry and keep a dog till
somebody steals it.

Day broke on the following morning dismal
and lowering. Breakfast over, there came a
ring at the bell. The household rushed to the
door expecting that the dog had been found
and brought back; but instead of heralding
Rough's return, word was brought that it
was the person about the gate, and a
document of the value of eight and sixpence—
when paid—was handed in.

"I declare," said Mrs. Jones, as she
perused the bill, "Grinder has the
impudence to persist in making that charge, though
I distinctly told his man I wouldn't pay it."

"Who is Grinder?" I innocently inquired.

"The ironmonger, to be sure." Thereupon
she entered into an elaborate history of the
original compact.

"I advise you to get rid of it," I remarked,
when I had been obliged to hear her out.
"We shall only have some bother, if the bill
is disputed."

"We'll see," said Mrs. Jones, as I withdrew
into my study, "send the man in."

Deeply engaged in a scientific article on the
prehensile faculty of monkeys' tails, with a
view to the application of the principle for
the benefit of timid horsemen, I had lost
all recollection of Grinder and the garden-gate,
when Mrs. Jones entered my study with
a smiling air.

"I've settled that affair," she said.

"I am glad to hear it," I said. " Has the
man receipted the bill?"

"No," returned my wife, "he has gone
away without the money. I offered him
within sixpence of the amount, and he
refused to take it. But," she added triumphantly,
"he'll come to his senses by-and-by!"

Moved by prophetic inspiration—I think
I am justified in using these lofty words—I
observed with emphasis: " Don't you imagine
it! Depend upon it, he means to have every
farthing he asks. Take my advice now, pay
him, and have done with it."

A discussion ensued, detrimental to the
progress of the prehensile question, but it
ended in a promise from Mrs. Jones that she
would do as I suggested: and, like a good
wife, she put on her things, and went out
for the purpose. I had fully developed my
theory when she came back.

"What do you think?" were her first
words. "I called at Grinder's as you wished,
and the shopman told me it was of no use
my coming there, as his master had taken out
a summons!"

"What!" I exclaimed. "A summons!"
My pen fell from my hand.

The statement was repeated, with the
comments which may easily be supposed.

I don't know whether the reader has
guessed at my idiosyncrasy; if not, I have no
objection to tell him that I am, under certain
conditions, an excessively nervous man.
Lawyers, and everything that relates to their
black art, are my utter abhorrence. I would
give up every shilling I have in the world,
rather than go to law about anything, though
I were certain of a verdict in my favour. I
have always had a horror of citations, and
of all matters juridical: I execrate the name
of King Alfred, and abhor trial by jury.
This confession may give a faint idea of my
sensations when I heard the word Summons.
It had the same effect upon me as Mrs. Quickly
owned she felt when any one said swagger.

For several days after this announcement
my mind was much disturbed: every ring at
the gate was the apprehended Summons;
I expected to find it enclosed in every letter
I opened; my imagination carried no favour
in it but that. At last, finding it did not
come, I came to the conclusion, that Grinder's
man's declaration was a mere threat.

"If he had taken out a summons," I
whispered, "it would have been 'served'
(detestable term!) before now."

I must mention, that during this interval
Mrs, Jones remained perfectly calm. I will
not wrong her by the remark, that perhaps
she knew she was feme coverte—as the
lawyers say in their wretched attempt at
Norman French—but rather admit, freely,
that her dread of the law was less instinctive
than mine.

After dinner that day, I had scarcely put
my extra glass to my lips, when the hated
summons was laid before me.

O, the vile language in which it was
couched. It began by calling itself a Plaint,
was lettered L., and numbered Two hundred
and fifty-two thousand six hundred and