Had it been copper-coloured, I'm not certain I could have saved you from getting it torn.

My pets are not partial to the American aboriginal." During these somewhat bizarre speeches and the actions that accompany them, Frank Hamersley--for it is he--stands staring in silent wonder.
What sees he before him?
Two huge, fierce-looking dogs, a horse oddly caparisoned, a young girl, scarce a woman, strangely and picturesquely garbed.

What has he heard?
First, the loud baying of two bloodhounds, threatening to tear him to pieces; then a voice, sweet and musical as the warbling of a bird! Is it all a dream?
Dreaming he had been, when aroused by the growling of the dogs.

But that was a horrid vision.

What he now sees is the very reverse.