Yes, there it was surely, with a bright clean dipper hanging by it.
She put down the basket carefully, quenched her thirst, and then, after bathing her forehead with her handkerchief, was feeling in her bag for pussy’s dish, when a bumping sound made her drop it and turn hastily. K. A. V. had made a sudden spring, the basket was plunging down the bank, followed by an inquisitive fox terrier. Just as the basket stopped rolling the cat gave a terrified yowl, and the terrier started back, but only for a moment.
Miss Prue seized the basket and looked about, calling in vain for help, but no one came, only more dogs, so she hurried back to the road, closing the gate behind her in frantic haste.
But what is a bar gate to dogs? Those that could neither get under or through, jumped over, for the dogs at the Burgess farm were always in fine condition. A second fox terrier sprang between the bars, a black-and-tan dachshund crawled under, while almost at the same time a collie and a greyhound cleared the top rail.
They were polite, gentlemanly dogs, fortunately, and accustomed to the best society. They never thought of touching Miss Prue; but in spite of her gestures turned their attention to the basket, sniffing and jostling it and saying things in a way to put Augusta Victoria into a frenzy.
As the strange party went up the hill, the pioneer terrier running ahead seemed to spread the news, for dogs of all degrees kept joining the procession: the great woolly St. Bernard, Rex, from the doctor’s piazza, the farrier’s mongrel black-and-tan, who happened to be coming across lots, two loping foxhounds who belonged to Squire Burley and had been taking a run on their own account, the minister’s water spaniel, the schoolmistress’s pug, a white bull terrier, a comical-looking sheep dog from the milk farm, and lastly, a fantastically arrayed black poodle, with his wool trimmed into as many devices as the tattooing on a Fiji Islander, a silver bangle on one leg, and a crimson satin bow on his collar, joined the mob, in spite of the frantic calls of a maid on the steps of the select inn, who was striving to keep him clean while his owner was at luncheon; for this particular poodle had his teeth cleaned every day, could not roll in the dirt, and was not as other dogs, for which the others were doubtless thankful.