"He is a treacherous fellow," growled Mr. Hummel; "but you have always had your own opinion about those people. He has played the hypocrite toward me from the very first day, when he stood by his pile of bricks before these windows and turned his back upon me. I have always allowed myself to be persuaded by you women to treat him as a neighbor, with greetings and civil speeches; and I have always been silent when you have carried on your idle gossip with the woman over there." "Our idle gossip, Henry," exclaimed the wife, setting down her coffee-cup with a clatter; "I must beg of you not to forget the respect that is due to me." "Well, well, I meant no slight," Mr. Hummel hastened to add, hoping to allay the storm which he had inopportunely brought upon himself. "What you meant, you, of course, know. I take it as I heard it. But it shows little feeling in you, Mr. Hummel, for the sake of a dead dog to treat your wife and daughter as idle gossips." This disagreement added still more to the gloom and ill-humor of the morning, but did not in any way advance the discovery of the culprit. It was in vain that the mistress of the house, in order to divert her husband's suspicions from the Hahn family, raised many other conjectures, and, with Laura's help, tried to throw the blame on their own employes or the watchman, and that she at last suggested even the shop-porter over the way as the possible evil-doer. Alas! the reputation of the dogs was so dreadful that the Hummel family could more easily count the few people who did not wish evil to the dogs, than the many whose wish and interest it was to see the monsters at the bottom of Cocytus. The news ran like wildfire through the streets, a crowd gathered around the fruit-woman at the corner, and people spoke of the evil deed everywhere, pitilessly, hostilely, and maliciously. Even among those in the streets who tried to show outward signs of sympathy, the prevailing feeling was hardly concealed. It is true there were some sympathisers. First Mrs. Knips, the washerwoman, with voluble indignation; then even Knips the younger ventured pityingly into the neighborhood of the house--he was clerk in the hostile business, having gone over to the enemy, but never ceased to show respect to his former instructor on all occasions, and to pay unacceptable homage to Miss Laura. At last the comedian of the theatre, whom they generally invited on Sundays, came, and related many amusing stories. But even these few faithful adherents were suspected by some of the household. Gabriel distrusted the Knips family, while Laura detested the clerk, and the comedian, formerly a welcome guest, had, some evenings before, in passing by, inconsiderately expressed to a companion, that it would be a praiseworthy deed to remove these dogs from the stage of life. Now this unhappy suggestion was repeated to the mistress of the house, and it lay heavy on her heart. For fifteen years she had accepted this