“The next morning Jack was going round and round the lake, trying about the edge of it, if he could find any place shallow enough to wade in; but he might as well go to wade the say, and what was worst of all, if he attempted to swim, it would be like a tailor’s goose, straight to the bottom; so he kept himself safe on dry land, still expecting a visit from the ‘lovely crathur,’ but, bedad, his good luck failed him for wanst, for instead of seeing her coming over to him, so mild and sweet, who does he obsarve steering at a dog’s trot, but his ould friend the smoking cur.  ‘Confusion to that cur,’ says Jack to himself, ’I know now there’s some bad fortune before me, or he wouldn’t be coming acrass me.’

“‘Come home to your breakfast, Jack,’ says the dog, walking up to him, ‘it’s breakfast time.’

“‘Ay,’ says Jack, scratching his head, ’it’s no matter whether I do or not, for I bleeve my head’s hardly worth a flat-dutch cabbage at the present speaking.’

“‘Why, man, it was never worth so much,’ says the baste, pulling out his pipe and putting it in his mouth, when it lit at once.

“‘Take care of yourself,’ says Jack, quite desperate,—­for he thought he was near the end of his tether,—­’take care of yourself, you dirty cur, or maybe I might take a gintleman’s toe from your tail.’

“‘You had better keep a straight tongue in your head,’ says four-legs, ’while it’s on your shoulders, or I’ll break every bone in your skin—­Jack, you’re a fool,’ says he, checking himself, and speaking kindly to him—­’you’re a fool; didn’t I tell you the other day to do what you were bid, and keep never minding?’

“‘Well,’ thought Jack to himself, ’there’s no use in making him any more my enemy than he is—­particularly as I’m in such a hobble.’

“‘You lie,’ says the dog, as if Jack had spoken out to him, wherein he only thought the words to himself, ‘you lie,’ says he, ’I’m not, nor never was, your enemy, if you knew but all.’

“‘I beg your honor’s pardon,’ answers Jack, ’for being so smart with your honor, but, bedad, if you were in my case,—­if you expected your master to roast you alive,—­eat his dinner of your body,—­make you sing the ‘Black Joke,’ by way of music for him; and, to crown all, know that your head was to be stuck upon a hook after—­maybe you would be a little short, in your temper, as well as your neighbors.’

“‘Take heart, Jack,’ says the other, laying his fore claw as knowingly as ever along his nose, and winking slyly at Jack, didn’t I tell you that you had a friend in coort—­the day’s not past yet, so cheer up, who knows but there is luck before you still?’

“‘Why, thin,’ says Jack, getting a little cheerful, and wishing to crack a joke with him, ‘but your honor’s very fond of the pipe!’ ’Oh! don’t you know, Jack,’ says he, ’that that’s the fashion at present among my tribe; sure all my brother puppies smoke now, and a man might as well be out of the world as out of the fashion, you know.’