Mr. Blenheim was a very gentlemanly dog, and Mrs. Blenheim was quite the lady; both were well-bred, handsome, and fond of good company. They lived in a nice house, by Hyde Park Corner. Now Mr. Blenheim was one day in the library, dozing in his arm-chair after dinner, when Mrs. B. thus addressed him:
"Rouse up, Blenny dear, and tell me about these notes of invitation for our dinner-party."
"I am rather sleepy," said he, "so you must read the list over to me."
Mrs. B. read the names of Mr. Tan-Terrier, Mr. Fox-Hound, Mr. Dane, Mr. Mastiff, Mr. Beagle, Mr. Poodle, Mr. Barker—Mr. Bull-Dog concluding the list. "Mr. Bull-Dog!" cried Mrs. B., looking vexed, "why do you ask him? no one considers him respectable."
"It will not do to leave him out, dear!" said Mr. Blenheim, who then got up, and went lazily to the desk to write the invitations.
Pug, the Page, went to Kennel Court, the country box of Mr. Fox-Hound, and found that sporting character near home, wiping his brow after a good hunt. His manners were more blunt than his teeth, and his loud voice could be heard miles off. He was called a "jolly dog," and seldom dined alone. But his great delight was the chase of a fox; he could then hardly give tongue enough to express his joy. After asking Pug after Mrs. Blenheim's health, he accepted the invitation.
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