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We
finished
up
with
tea
and
cherry
tart
.
Montmorency
had
a
fight
with
the
kettle
during
tea-time
,
and
came
off
a
poor
second
.
Throughout
the
trip
,
he
had
manifested
great
curiosity
concerning
the
kettle
.
He
would
sit
and
watch
it
,
as
it
boiled
,
with
a
puzzled
expression
,
and
would
try
and
rouse
it
every
now
and
then
by
growling
at
it
.
When
it
began
to
splutter
and
steam
,
he
regarded
it
as
a
challenge
,
and
would
want
to
fight
it
,
only
,
at
that
precise
moment
,
some
one
would
always
dash
up
and
bear
off
his
prey
before
he
could
get
at
it
.
To-day
he
determined
he
would
be
beforehand
.
At
the
first
sound
the
kettle
made
,
he
rose
,
growling
,
and
advanced
towards
it
in
a
threatening
attitude
.
It
was
only
a
little
kettle
,
but
it
was
full
of
pluck
,
and
it
up
and
spit
at
him
.
"
Ah
!
would
ye
!
"
growled
Montmorency
,
showing
his
teeth
;
"
I
'll
teach
ye
to
cheek
a
hard-working
,
respectable
dog
;
ye
miserable
,
long-nosed
,
dirty-looking
scoundrel
,
ye
.
Come
on
!
"
And
he
rushed
at
that
poor
little
kettle
,
and
seized
it
by
the
spout
.
Then
,
across
the
evening
stillness
,
broke
a
blood-curdling
yelp
,
and
Montmorency
left
the
boat
,
and
did
a
constitutional
three
times
round
the
island
at
the
rate
of
thirty-five
miles
an
hour
,
stopping
every
now
and
then
to
bury
his
nose
in
a
bit
of
cool
mud
.
From
that
day
Montmorency
regarded
the
kettle
with
a
mixture
of
awe
,
suspicion
,
and
hate
.
Whenever
he
saw
it
he
would
growl
and
back
at
a
rapid
rate
,
with
his
tail
shut
down
,
and
the
moment
it
was
put
upon
the
stove
he
would
promptly
climb
out
of
the
boat
,
and
sit
on
the
bank
,
till
the
whole
tea
business
was
over
.
George
got
out
his
banjo
after
supper
,
and
wanted
to
play
it
,
but
Harris
objected
:
he
said
he
had
got
a
headache
,
and
did
not
feel
strong
enough
to
stand
it
.
George
thought
the
music
might
do
him
good
--
said
music
often
soothed
the
nerves
and
took
away
a
headache
;
and
he
twanged
two
or
three
notes
,
just
to
show
Harris
what
it
was
like
.
