The sausage sandwiches formed the first course; these were followed wisely by the saucers of buttermilk, for sausages are rich, thirsty things, and buttermilk both quenches thirst and is good for dog stomachs. The cookies were next in order, each one making four mouthfuls, though Jack Waddles and Silvie both tried to bolt theirs whole, and choked so that they had to have their saucers refilled. “Now let us give them their mottoes,” said Pinkie, forgetting the basket for the time. “Will you please snap them and give each one their cap, Miss Letty?” This caused a great deal of fun, for the snapping affected the dogs very differently, frightening some, and merely adding to the spirits of the others, while the paper caps changed the dogs’ entire expressions for the few moments that they consented to wear them; meanwhile Luck and Pluck, seizing on a motto that had been dropped, played tug-of-war with it to such good effect that the snapper exploded in their very jaws, causing them to stampede in terror, while the children rolled on the grass in fits of laughter. “Now for the basket of five-o’clock teas,” said Miss Letty, who saw that the dogs had about reached the end of their good behaviour, and the children were also growing restive, and needed the soothing influence of ice-cream. “Is it ready, Pinkie?” Miss Letty then fastened Hamlet’s cap, which chanced to be a white Normandy bonnet with strings, firmly under his chin, pinned a napkin around his waist to imitate a waiter’s apron, and made him stand erect. “Here’s the basket,” said Pinkie, coming forward and thrusting the quaint bit of silver suddenly at Miss Letty. “But, Pinkie dear,” she protested, “I only wished a common straw basket; this is too good. Hamlet may bend or break it.” “I couldn’t get anything worse,” answered Pinkie, jerking out her words half sulkily, “any way--it’s--only an--old thing--and--mother didn’t say I mustn’t take it.” “Yes, but old things are often very precious; yet after all it will only take a moment, and I will wrap my handkerchief about the handle so that Hamlet’s teeth may not scratch it.” “Allons!” she cried to the patient dog, who came slowly forward, took the handle between his teeth, and walked dutifully down the line of waiting dogs. Each child gave a biscuit to its pet, because if the dogs had been allowed to help themselves, poor Hamlet would surely have been upset, for to walk in such a position, and carry a heavy basket, is a great strain for any dog, no matter how clever. All went well until Hamlet reached the fox terriers, when Luck made a spring for the basket. This seemed to be a signal of revolt against good behaviour, for instantly Hamlet dropped on all fours and began careering wildly around, still holding the basket. Instantly all the dogs were running about in a circle, barking and yelping wildly, the little tea table was overturned, and cups, saucers, and cookies went rolling down the walk together.