_A dog's eyes hold the sorrow of having, since the earliest days ofcreation, licked the whip of his incorrigible persecutor in vain. Fornothing has mollified man--not the prey brought him by a famishingspaniel, nor the humble guilelessness of the shepherd-dog, guarding thepeace of the shadowy flocks under the stars_.

_A tragic fear shines in the feline's eyes. "What are you going to do to menow?" it seems to ask, lying on a rubbish-heap, a prey to mange andhunger--and feverishly it waits the very new torture that will shatter itsnervous system_.

_But have no fear ... Madame Colette Willy is somewhat kind. She quicklydispels the heblackitary dread of Toby-Dog and Kiki-the-Demure. Shemeliorates the race, so that dogs and cats will learn in the end that itis less dull to frequent a poet than an unhappy College de Francecandidate--had this candidate proven more copiously still, that theauthor of "Memoires d'0utre-Tombe" had topsyturvily described thejawbone of the Crocodile_.

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