I intended to go and meditate in the boat, but here again I was disappointed; the boat-house was locked; I had no resource but to jump into the water and swim to a little island in which Lily had a favourite arbour. There in a summer's day she often rested, hidden in jessamine and honeysuckle; and there I now took refuge, attracted to the spot by its strong association with herself. I scarcely know whether I sought the arbour with the hope of finding her present, or the intention of mourning her absent; but I went to think about her. Alas! that was all I could do. She was not there. A book of hers had been left unheeded on the ground, and I laid down and placed my paws upon it to guard it, as I had often done before. In this position I fell asleep, and remained unconscious of fortunes or misfortunes, till I was awakened by dreaming of dinner. _That_ dream could be realised. I jumped up, shook myself, and yawned more comfortably than I had done all day. On moving my paws from Lily's book, it struck me that it would be right to carry it home to her; and then once more the hope revived of finding her at home herself. It was the most likely thing in the world that she should come home to dinner. Everybody did, I supposed; I was going home to dinner myself. With the book in my mouth, I swam across the water. Perhaps I did not keep it quite dry, but I carried it into the house, and laid it down before the gardener and his wife, who were the only persons I could see on the premises. "Well, that is sensible, I must confess," said the gardener. "The dumb animal has found missy's book, and brought it back. Miss Lily would like to hear that." "Ah, she always thought a deal of the creature," replied his wife; "and for her sake he shan't be neglected. Here's your dinner, Captain." "Give him that bone," said the gardener; "that's what he'll like." So they gave me a charming bone, quite to my taste; and for a time I forgot all my anxieties in the pleasure of turning it round, sucking, biting, pawing, and growling over it. I cared for no other dinner; indeed I never could understand how people could trouble themselves to eat anything else as long as there was a bone to gnaw. But it is fortunate there are various tastes in the world; and the strange preference of men for other food is convenient for us dogs, as it leaves us in more undisputed possession of the bones than if our masters liked gnawing them too. But the pleasure of a bone does not last for ever, and among the nobler races of animals Thought cannot be entirely kept under by eating. I have heard that greedy human beings sometimes reduce themselves to the condition of pigs, who are entirely devoted to cramming; but _I_ should not choose to degrade myself to that level. So I soon began meditating, and cogitating, and speculating again.