Now, carols are always beautiful, but if you are sad they can make you feel sadder. (There are some people who always find beauty makes them feel sadder, which is a very mysterious thing). Soon the Dearlys and the Nannies could hardly keep the tears out of their eyes. When Mr. Dearly realized this, he thought, This must be the last carol we play.€ It was Silent Night.€ Mrs. Dearly put out the lights and drew back the curtains at the tall windows, so that they could see the stars while they listened. And she saw it was snowing again.

She went back to the sofa and stroked Perdita, who, for once, did no washing but just gazed at the falling snow-flakes. The voices singing Silent Night€ were high and clear and peaceful, and not very loud.

Suddenly everyone in the room heard a dog bark.

That’s Pongo,€ cried Mr. Dearly and dashed to a window.

That’s Missis,€ cried Mrs. Dearly, hearing a different bark as she too dashed to the window.

They flung the window open wide and stared down through the swirling snow. And then their hearts seemed turned to lead by disappointment.

Down below were two black dogs.

Mrs. Dearly said gently, You shouldn’t be out on a night like this. Go home to your owners, my dears.

(She used the word owners€ when she should have said pets that mistake humans so often make).

The dogs barked again, but Mr. Dearly said, Home!€ very firmly, for he felt sure the dogs lived somewhere near and had been let out for a last run before going to bed. He shut the window, saying to Mrs. Dearly, Odd-looking dogs. I can’t quite recognize the breed.€

He did not hear the despairing howl that came from Missis. It had happened, just as she had feared! They were turned away, outcasts in the night.

Pongo had a moment of panic. This was something he had not foreseen. But quickly he pulled himself together. We must bark again,€ he said, and much louder.€

Shall the puppies bark too?€ suggested Missis.

The puppies were all lined up out of sight from the window, because Pongo felt that so many dogs at once might come as a bit of a shock. He now said, No. Only you and I must bark, Missis. And one at a time. Then they will recognize our voices sooner or later. We would recognize theirs, whatever clothes they wore, whatever colour their faces and hands were.

So he barked again, and then Missis barked. They went on and on, taking it in turns.

Up in the drawing room Mrs. Dearly said, I can’t believe that’s not Pongo and Missis. And look how excited Perdita is!