A strange boat had put
into the hallway and was coming back.
"Now, old boy!" somebody was saying from the boat. "Steady, old chap!
I've got something for you."
A little man, elderly and alert, was standing up in the boat, poling
it along with an oar. Peter gave vent to joyful yelps. The elderly
gentleman brought his boat to a stop at the foot of the stairs, and
reaching down into a tub at his feet, held up a large piece of raw
liver. Peter almost went crazy, and I remembered suddenly that I had
forgotten to feed the poor beast for more than a day.
"Would you like it?" asked the gentleman. Peter sat up, as he had been
taught to do, and barked. The gentleman reached down again, got a
wooden platter from a stack of them at his feet, and placing the
liver on it, put it on the step. The whole thing was so neat and
businesslike that I could only gaze.
"That's a well-trained dog, madam," said the elderly gentleman,
beaming at Peter over his glasses. "You should not have neglected
him."
"The flood put him out of my mind," I explained, humbly enough, for I
was ashamed.
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