Great Dog

A was an Archer, who shot at a frog; B was a Butcher, and had a great dog.

These words were uttered in a guarded whisper by a boy about seventeen years of age, to a great dog that stood by his side.

The spaniel held the great dog in awe, and never but once was known to go to the stable to see him.

The black brute reared and fairly took him from the ground, fairly chased him about the street, as a great dog would a rat.

Her dear little namesake retreated, dragging the great dog back with her by the collar.