Jenkins still had one of the dogs from yesterday's class with him in the Magic Box today. The dog, a jack russell terrier which had made . . . let's say "good friends" with Jenkins' pant leg, was currently making the acquaintance of a chair leg.

"Aren't you getting tired?" Jenkins asked it as he put the finishing touches on his latest attempt at an antidote to the infernal pollen. "Surely you must at least be getting chafed." His beaker began to smoke faintly. Jenkins gave it a whiff, winced, then nodded and brought it over to the dog.

"Alright, what do you think of this, then?" he asked the dog. The dog paused long enough in its activity to give the beaker a good sniff. Its tail began to wag excitedly, and it turned away from the chair leg with a happy bark. "Excellent! I'd certainly call that progre -- and you're back on my leg. Well. I suppose we'll have to take a look at that drawing board again, won't we."

[open!]