I am suprised to be ushered in to this fine house and to be appointed such an elagant room. I give poor Poochie the last bread crust from my carpet bag; and he seems content, for now, to hide under the great canopied bed. The room seems rather musty. There is a fine cover of dust over the fine mahogany funiture. I open the drapes and through the window see a full moon sailing accros the night sky.

Air, I need fresh air, and I open the window inspite of the cold. I would have been content to stay in the stable. Now I am expected to attend a dinner party and perhaps provide a bit of entertainment.

I do hope that they will have a harpsicord or a fiddle about the place. At hot bath would be inviting, but the water runs cold here.

A velvet gown and slippers have been laid out for me, and I brush my long golden hair and gaze into a full length mirror at my reflection. The gown is burgandy red and my only jewel is a ruby and pearl cross that hangs on a gloden chain.

I must find food for my poor old Dobin. I wonder where the stabel might be here? My cart is hidden in the hedge and I have left Dobin under the old apple tree. He will have to make a meal of the fallen apples till I can find some oats for him. The heavy rain has stopped. Dare I venture forth in this mysterious house of mystery?