"You've got the nose of a bloodhound," she observed. "I b'lieve you'd smell molasses cookies half a mile."
Caroline sighed.
"I didn't mean them," she said. "I meant——"
"You'd better be at your lesson; your aunty'll be here in a minute if she hears you talking, now!"
Katy was severe, but fundamentally friendly. Caroline groaned and applied herself.
"Bounded 'n th' south by Long Island Sound; bounded 'n th' south by Long Island Sound; bounded 'n th' south—oh, look!"
Up the neat flagged path of the side yard a spotted fox-terrier approached, delicately erect upon his hind legs, his mouth spread in cheerful smiles, his ears cocked becomingly. He paused, he waved a salute, and as a shrill whistle from behind struck up a popular tune, he waltzed accurately up to the side porch and back, retaining to the last note his pleased if painstaking smile.
Caroline gasped delightedly; Katy's severity relaxed.
"That's a mighty cute little dog," she admitted.
