"I do! I do!" wept Daisy.
"But why, in the name of whims and whamsies?"
"Because I love him," said Daisy.
When it comes to this with the heart, argument is wasted on the head;
but the farmer-went on: "Why he's neither useful nor ornamental. He's
been a good dog in his day, I dare say; but now--"
At this moment Flaps threw his head up in the air and sniffed, and his
one eye glared, and he set his teeth and growled.
He smelt the gipsy, and the gipsy's black pipe, and every hair stood on
end with rage.
"The dog's mad!" cried the swineherd, seizing a pitchfork.
"You're a fool," said the farmer (who wasn't). "There's some one behind
that haystack, and the old watch-dog's back is up. See! there he runs;
and as I'm a sinner, it's that black rascal who was loitering round, the
day my ricks were fired, and you lads let him slip. Off after him, for I
fancy I see smoke." And the farmer flew to his haystacks.
Hungry and tired as he was, Flaps would have pursued his old enemy, but
Daisy would not let him go. She took him by the ear and led him indoors
to breakfast instead. She had a large basin of bread-and-milk, and she
divided this into two portions, and gave one to Flaps and kept the other
for herself.
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