The pups were now several weeks old.

There were five of them, and a fat and frolicksome set they were too.

As the boys approached them, they were frisking and capering as usual; tumbling and rolling over one another, climbing upon the back of their mother, and pulling and barking at the straw.

Their mother, whose name was Bright, sat watching their gambols with a very affectionate but sedate look.

Perhaps she was wondering whether _she_ was ever so mischievous and frisky as these little fellows were.