This imbecile little dog was not possessed of much delicacy of feeling.

Having been absent on a private excursion of his own into the mountain when the schooner arrived, he only became aware of the return of his lost, loved, and deeply-regretted mistress, when he came back from his trip.

The first thing that told him of her presence was his own nose, the black point of which protruded with difficulty a quarter of an inch beyond the mass of matting which totally extinguished his eyes, and, indeed, every other portion of his head.
Coming down the hill immediately behind Sandy Cove at a breakneck scramble, Toozle happened to cross the path by which his mistress had ascended to her tree.

The instant he did so, he came to a halt so sudden that one might have fancied he had been shot.

In another moment he was rushing up the hill in wild excitement, giving an occasional yelp of mingled surprise and joy as he went along.