Along came the Park-keeper.
" Hie! " he said. " I want to make a complaint about this man and his dog."
" It isn't my dog," said the old man. " I kept trying to tell you but you wouldn't listen."
" Then whose dog is it? " cried Crosspatch angrily.
" It's mine," said the park-keeper. " I had to go and pick up a child who had hurt its knee. I left my dog here to guard my dinner, which I left on the seat."
" Your dinner? " said Mister Crosspatch in a small voice.
"Yes, MY DINNER! " said the park-keeper in a large voice. " Where is it? "
" He threw it to your dog," said the old man.