clouds that you ever dreamed of. Oh, it was so beautiful!"
"And what were you trying to understand?"
"Well, there was a girl there talking to me, and she looked so kind and had such a sweet face and soft voice, and she was telling me an old, old story about the hill. She said that once upon a time, long, long years ago, a black and white dog owned the hill and lived there, and that a good many people were afraid of him and didn't dare to go near the hill. But sometimes, when some of those who lived near, were going home at night and had to pass that way, a little black and white dog would come running after them and wagging his tail and trying to make friends; and if they spoke pleasantly to him, he would run along beside them until they had reached their homes, and then go quietly away; but when he turned to go, if they happened to look after him, they would see that, as he went, he grew bigger and bigger and bigger, until, as he disappeared in the darkness, he would be tremendously big. And afterward they would find out that on the way home they had escaped some danger of which they knew nothing, but from which the dog had saved them by being there."
"But suppose that they weren't nice to him when he came?" said the Dream.
"She spoke about that," said Marjorie. "She said that if, when he came and tried to make friends with them, they scolded him and sent him away and accused him of following them to steal their meat, and threw stones at him,—then,
