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was Sunday morning at Sunnyside Cottage, where lived an author and his wife, and they were at breakfast.

Now the Sunday morning meal at Sunnyside is a very leisurely affair, with the different dishes sandwiched in between fragments from the morning paper.

They had finished the grapefruit, and were sampling the Sunday sermon, when there came a timid tat-a-tat-tat at the screen door on the front piazza.

"I wonder who it is?" inquired the author, and to answer the question the mistress got up and went to the door.

There upon the mat sat a sorrowful figure. A stump of a tail was slowly and