bull-dog with a brown spot over half his face and a tail which, although but a scant two inches long, could be at times remarkably expressive. This was one of the times. Trotting along at the man's side, Bistre threatened to wag that ridiculous stump out of existence.
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"That's all right," said Miles, soothingly.
"Please don't forget in your
enthusiasm that we are seeking adventure,
you and I. Kindly bear in mind
the fact that I am mounted upon my
milk-white charger and, with lance in
rest, am caracoling along the highway
in search of an imprisoned princess.
As you're not particularly imaginative,
perhaps you'd better remain just
a dog, though I had thought of having
you for a squire. And, look here, Bistre,
if you see the Princess and I don't,
you must bark; not too fiercely, you
