I shall love him dearly, I know."
"I'm glad ye like him," said Bubble, looking highly gratified. "Hosy
Grout giv him an' another one to me yes'day, over 't the village. He was
goin' to drownd 'em, an' I wouldn' let him, an' he said I might hev 'em
ef I wanted 'em. I knew Pink would like to hev one, an' I thought mebbe
you liked critters, an' so--"
"Good Bubble!" said Hilda, stroking the little dog's curly head. "And
what shall I call him, Pink? Let us each think of a name, and then
choose the best."
There was a pause, and then Bubble said, "Call him Scott, after the bold
Buckle-oh!"
"Or Will, for 'the wily Belted Will,'" said Pink, who was as inveterate
a ballad-lover as her brother.
"I think Jock is a good name," said Hildegarde,--"Jock o' Hazeldean, you
know. I think I will call him Jock." The others assented, and the
puppy was solemnly informed of the fact, and received a chicken-bone in
honor of the occasion. Then the three friends ate their dinner, and very
merry they were over it. Hildegarde crowned Pink with the pine-tassel
wreath, and declared that she looked like a priestess of Diana.
"No, she don't," said Bubble, looking up from his cold chicken; "she
looks like Lars Porsena of Clusium sot in his ivory cheer, on'y she
ain't f'erce enough. Hold up yer head, Pinky, an' look real savage, an'
I'll do Horatius at the Bridge."
Pink did her best to look savage, and Zerubbabel stood up and delivered
"Horatius" with much energy and appropriate action, to the great
amusement of his audience.
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