and all its hair bristling out like a cat's tail its eyes when puss is on the war path Finally the man too got angry, and jumped down and kicked the dog, and then took it by the scrufof the nec and half dragged and half threw it on the tombstone on which the seat is fixed. The moment it touched the stone the poor thing began to tremble. It did not try to get away, but crouched down, quivering and cowering, and was in such state of terror that I tried, though without effect to comfort it. Lucy was full of pity, too, but she did not attempt to touch the dog, but looked at it in an agonised sort of way. I greatly fear that she is of too super sensitive a nature to go through the world without trouble. She will be dreaming of this tonight, I am sure. The whole agglomeration of things, the ship steered into port by a dead man, his attitude, tied to the wheel with a crucifix and beads, the touching funeral the dog, now furious and now in terror,will all afford mate rial for her dreams. I think it will be best for her to go to bed tired out physi cally, so I shall take her for a long walk by the cliffs to Robin Hood's Bay and back. She ought not to have much inclina tion for sleep-walking then