Waddles, Mayor of Dogtown, had always been an important person, but Waddles, the married man, father of a family and master of a home consisting of three houses surrounded by a fine yard and equipped with porcelain-lined food dishes, hay pillows, and other luxuries, was of double dignity. With the extra food supply necessary for more dogs, he was able to be a greater patron of the poor in the line of bones and left-over dog biscuit. Also it was not an unusual thing to see him piloting a tired and thirsty dog, who had been following a team bound for the market town, to the trough that caught the well drippings, and then to a particularly cool resting spot under the quince bushes; for this particular highway was a trying place for thirsty animals, as there was not a single spring or drinking-trough between the Hilltop Kennels and Happy Hall. Yet, in spite of all this outside notoriety, as far as his own particular family was concerned, he was tolerated, but that was about all. Anne expected that he would be sad or resentful, as when Lumberlegs claimed affection that Waddles considered his own exclusive property. He was neither the one nor the other. The proverb, “Every dog has its day,” is evidently one of the recognized family dog laws. It was Mrs. Happy Waddles’s day just then, for was she not the mother of the twins? It was to her apartments in the big kennel once owned by Lumberlegs that visitors went and gave ohs and ahs of admiration. Her ladyship had new milk and all the tidbits, and did not have to submit to a bath for several weeks lest she should be chilled. Waddles was polite but bored; he spent a great deal of time under the flap of the cellar door where he could keep an eye on his home from a distance. He also did a great deal of thinking in these days. There are people who say that dogs have no family life, but that is either because these people do not really know dogs or have only seen them reared in great kennels, for kennel dogs are as different in their instincts and feelings from home dogs as orphan-asylum children are from home-cuddled babies. Though Waddles kept rather aloof from his family, what else could he do? As they were not living in a state of wild nature it was not necessary for him to hunt food for them. If he asked Happy to take a walk, she would give him her usual little caress on the nose and trot beside him as far as the gate perhaps, then suddenly turn as if she had forgotten something, drop her body after a way she had when she put on speed, and dash back to her house as if it was the burrow of a rabbit whose fresh trail she had crossed.