“You know I got lost,” said Collie.
“It was a dreadful experience. I had gone off for a trip and hadn’t realized how far I’d wandered. I’m still quite young, you understand.
“Of course I’d have found my way home eventually—I’m quite sure of that. But it was everything to have help.
“I found myself in a small town with a very fashionable inn. (An inn is like a smart, smaller sort of hotel—very particular about who comes in.) And this inn did not allow dogs.
“There were many elderly ladies staying there, and a good number of them were fussy. I could see that at once.
“I was very tired. I thought I would try anyway, and I wagged my tail as I approached, even though they didn’t look particularly welcoming.
“None of them spoke to me.
“But when I wagged again and looked at them politely, they said to each other: ‘What a lovely dog.’
“So I gave a low, friendly bark, and one of the ladies said: ‘That dog must be lost.’
“I walked up to her very slowly, so as not to alarm her. She wasn’t alarmed. I put my head in her lap, and she patted me. One of the other ladies said: ‘I never saw you pat a dog before. How do you know he won’t bite?’
“Well. As if all dogs were going to bite!
“I kept my temper. The lady said: ‘He is a beautiful dog, and you can see he is used to being petted. I am not afraid of him.’
“Then she called for the innkeeper and arranged for me to have a meal and a bowl of water. One of the very stylish waiters brought it out on a tray and served me as though I were a paying guest, and called my meal ‘luncheon.’
“They telephoned around after that, asking after lost dogs, and found out where I belonged. They helped me get home—in fact, they brought me home, which would have been quite a long way to manage on my own.
“But, oh dogs! It’s good to be home!”
