. 
 
 w
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 UNI HSITYOF 
 
 C,i:ORNIA 
 
 SAN DIEGO 

 
 LADY LEE 
 
 AND OTHER ANIMAL STORIES
 
 LADY LEE 
 
 and Other 
 
 .St-nr 
 
 ' " I presume we are introduced b\ a mutual friend. 
 DRAWING BY MAX F. KU.PPKR.

 
 LADY LEE 
 
 anJ Other Animal 
 5tories 
 
 HERMON LEE ENSIGN 
 
 Illustrated \ 
 arra-vure from Original 
 Drawings by MAX' 
 F KLEPPER -J CARTER^ 
 BEARD -JJW HAMBIDGE 
 and W1LLH-DRAKE* 
 
 CHICAGO 
 ?7u r 
 19 01
 
 Copyright 
 By A. C. MCCLURG & Co., 
 
 A. D. 1901. 
 
 All rights reserved. 
 
 THE DIAL PRESS 
 CHICAGO
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Introductory Memoir vii. 
 
 LADY LEE 25 
 
 GENTLEMAN JACK 49 
 
 UNION SQUARE JIM 67 
 
 MY FRIEND THE ELEPHANT 95 
 
 SALLIE RUSSELL 117 
 
 LITTLE BYRON 149 
 
 BABY AND THE KITTEN 171 
 
 MAXEY 191 
 
 DANIEL PRATT 219 
 
 A KINDERGARTEN EXPERIMENT .... 239
 
 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 4 " I presume we are introduced by a mutual 
 
 friend " Frontispiece 
 
 DRAWING BY MAX F. KLEPPER. 
 
 Portrait of Hermon Lee Ensign 
 
 ' I quickly drew alongside, and seized the bridle 
 
 of the nearest horse ' 43 
 
 DRAWING BY MAX F. KLEPPER. 
 
 4 The animal that would not see his friend abused 
 
 seized the broom in his mouth' . . . . 53 
 DRAWING BY J. CARTER BEARD. 
 
 4 Jack and the rabid giant were settling the ques- 
 tion of existence' 58 
 
 DRAWING BY J. CARTER BEARD. 
 
 1 " Do you think I shall make a ' hit ' to-night, 
 
 Jim?'" 86 
 
 DRAWING BY J. CARTER BEARD. 
 
 4 Jumbo' 97 
 
 FROM ORIGINAL PHOTOGRAPH BY DIXON, LONDON.
 
 Vlll. LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 ' The next instant the lion was rolling upon the 
 
 ground ' 106 
 
 DRAWING BY WILL H. DRAKE. 
 
 ' There she stood through that hot day, shielding 
 
 him by her shadow' 125 
 
 DRAWING BY MAX F. KLEPPER. 
 
 ' Occasionally a lady would stop to admire the 
 
 little creatures ' 150 
 
 DRAWING BY JAY HAMBIDGE. 
 
 ' He lay there in hopeless agony and despair' . 165 
 DRAWING BY JAY HAMBIDGE. 
 
 ' He blinked his little black eyes, . . . while 
 
 gazing at the astonished pair before him ' .176 
 DRAWING BY J. CARTER BEARD. 
 
 ' The little animal had lodged, and now lay 
 
 motionless' 196 
 
 DRAWING BY MAX F. KLEPPER. 
 
 'He loosened the straps that held the pack' . . 200 
 DRAWING BY MAX F. KLEPPER. 
 
 'He was watching me with an earnest yet dis- 
 trustful look' 221 
 
 DRAWING BY MAX F. KLEPPER.
 
 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS ix. 
 
 ' I saw something emerging from the smoke that 
 
 was pouring in clouds from the doorway ' . 233 
 DRAWING BY MAX F. KLEPPER. 
 
 ' The minute I took them from their box of 
 
 cotton they began to peep pitifully' . .247 
 DRAWING BY J. CARTER BEARD. 
 
 INITIALS by MAX F. KLEPPER, J. CARTER BEARD, WILLH. 
 DRAKE, and JAY HAMBIDGE. 
 
 Photogravures by A. W. Elson & Co., Boston.
 
 ^ff~^^^-^.^^^^t)
 
 HERMON LEE ENSIGN. 
 Si fi^emirir. 
 
 THE author of the little stories of domestic animals, 
 presented in this volume, was one of those many- 
 sided characters which our growingly complex civ- 
 ilization tends more and more to produce. Without 
 advantage of birth or fortune, living the life of a quiet 
 American citizen and dying before he had reached the 
 age of fifty, he had yet rounded a circle of experience 
 and achievement that makes his life a notable one and 
 its story one of interest and profit. To the world, to 
 the business community, and to his general friends, he 
 was known as a genial and companionable man, suc- 
 cessful in his affairs, light-hearted, and satisfied with 
 life. His more intimate friends knew that he had other 
 interests and feelings, which represented the deeper 
 and more vital portions of his nature. He had an 
 eager and imaginative temperament, an instinctive love 
 of what is good and true, and a hatred of what is bad 
 and wrong. From childhood he was a lover of domes- 
 tic animals ; and this love and friendship for them, 
 with a detestation of all that is ungentle and unkind 
 in the treatment of them by their natural protector
 
 Xll. INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR 
 
 man, became more than a sentiment it became a 
 passion with him, growing with his years and experi- 
 ences, and at last filling and dominating his life. By 
 nature one of the most kindly and gentle of men, he 
 could not understand harshness or cruelty in others, 
 particularly toward those defenceless creatures com- 
 mitted to our care. To him they were not merely 
 our inferiors or our slaves, they were our compan- 
 ions, our friends, devoting themselves to us, dependent 
 upon us for their lives and happiness, having feelings 
 and interests not unlike our own, suffering from injus- 
 tice, degraded by ill-treatment and brutality, respond- 
 ing to kindness and sympathy as human beings do. 
 The ethics of our relations to the lower animals have 
 seldom had more forcible and practical exposition than 
 from this humane and warm-hearted man. He talked 
 and wrote much on the subject, and simple deeds of 
 kindliness and mercy were part of his daily life. I 
 have seen him, as we picked our course through a 
 mass of teams and vehicles in a crowded city, his 
 attention attracted by a restive dray-horse whose 
 furious glance and vicious action no less than the 
 restraining muzzle evinced the tendencies of an evil 
 nature, making his way, not without difficulty, to 
 the horse's head, speaking to him in kind tones, and, 
 avoiding the lunges of the suspicious and dangerous
 
 INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR Xlll. 
 
 brute, stroking his neck, talking to him in a sympa- 
 thetic way, and presently soothing him to a gentler 
 and more quiet mood. 'That horse has had a brutal 
 master,' said my friend. 4 Nothing but vicious treat- 
 ment makes a horse like that ; and now that his na- 
 ture has been spoiled by the fault of others, he is 
 treated all the worse on that account. That is man's 
 inhumanity to man's dependents a worse inhu- 
 manity, in some respects, than that to man, as being 
 more cowardly, and the victims more helpless and de- 
 fenceless.' It was this inhumanity to man's defence- 
 less dumb companions that lay like a burden on his 
 sympathies and occupied much of his thought in his 
 later years. It is the protest against this inhumanity, 
 and the desire to win men to a nobler view of their 
 duties and obligations, that form the key-note of the 
 stories here presented. My friend was, as I have said, 
 a many-sided man. In his early life he had resolved 
 to enter the ministry, and spent some time in studying 
 to that end ; he was fond of music, he had aspirations 
 in literature, he enjoyed social life, he had his fail- 
 share of success as the world goes; but he has said to 
 me, in speaking of personal ambitions and achieve- 
 ments, that the one man whose fame he most envied 
 was Mr. Henry Bergh , that if he felt he could leave 
 behind him such a record as this good man left, he
 
 XIV. INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR 
 
 should regard it as the proudest monument he could 
 desire. Had he lived, he might, with his means, 
 abilities, and purposes, have accomplished a work not 
 incomparable to that of him whose name will ever be 
 associated with the cause of humane treatment of our 
 dumb companions. 
 
 Perhaps in no other direction has the advance of 
 civilization been shown more markedly, in our coun- 
 try, than in the laws and societies for the protection of 
 animals. Those of us whose memories go back a 
 score of years will easily recall how much more com- 
 mon cases of public brutality were then than they are 
 now. It is more than a change it is a revolution. 
 Not so long ago one might witness, in any large city, 
 the most shocking and devilish brutality to horses, 
 when to venture a remonstrance was to be answered 
 with a curse or perhaps threatened with a blow. All 
 that, at least in our older and larger cities, is prac- 
 tically changed. Laws regulate, more or less effec- 
 tively, our relations with the lower animals, as with 
 each other ; and in most civilized communities a citi- 
 zen witnessing a case of brutality to animals may 
 interfere as in any other case of public crime, and the 
 law and authorities will support him and bring the 
 offender to justice. Societies have been formed to 
 procure and enforce these laws, there being now up-
 
 INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR XV. 
 
 wards of two hundred such societies incorporated in 
 the United States, beginning with the parent society 
 incorporated in New York in 1866 and designated as 
 'The American Society for the Prevention of Cruelty 
 to Animals.' The officers and agents of these soci- 
 eties are clothed with police powers, may arrest and 
 prosecute offenders against the laws relating to animals 
 and investigate and follow up complaints made to 
 them. They are also a factor in procuring more 
 advanced and completer humane legislation. 
 
 But good and noble as is the work of these soci- 
 eties, it is along the lines of repression that their 
 activities largely lie ; and there are other worthy fields 
 of effort. Long study and observation had given Mr. 
 Ensign the conviction that not a little of the com- 
 moner forms of cruelty to animals was due to thought- 
 lessness rather than depravity ; that people would treat 
 animals better if they really knew better. Humane 
 education became, therefore, his dominant idea and 
 purpose ; as he expressed it, 'not education by the 
 arm of the law, not by force, but by the gentler yet 
 more powerful effect of persuasion. Force may pre- 
 vent brutality in public, but it is unable to check it 
 where it is unseen. It does not prevent an offender 
 from wreaking vengeance on an unfortunate animal 
 for whose ill-treatment he has suffered punishment.
 
 INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR 
 
 It does not stop the misery and suffering caused by 
 ignorance and thoughtlessness.' The object should 
 be c to awaken such a feeling of humane kindness 
 toward the brute creation that people of every class 
 will be led to treat animals tenderly, simply because 
 they feel a natural inclination to do so.' To carry 
 his ideas into practical effect, Mr. Ensign organized 
 The National Humane Alliance, which was incorpo- 
 rated, in 1896, under the laws of New York. The 
 society entered at once upon the general work ot 
 humane education, in accordance with the ideas of its 
 founder, chiefly through the publication and dissemi- 
 nation of humane literature. He gave the society, as 
 its President, much of his time and energy, and con- 
 tributed annually several thousands of dollars for its 
 support. Yet so modestly was this work given and 
 this service rendered, that his personality was never 
 prominent, and but few even of his acquaintances 
 knew anything of the noble benevolence in which he 
 was engaged and which lay so near his heart. He 
 sealed his devotion by the final act of bequeathing to 
 the society the bulk of his not inconsiderable fortune. 
 The essential meanings and accomplishments of 
 Mr. Ensign's life may be gathered from the foregoing, 
 and from the stories in the present collection, which 
 represent what is most significant and distinctive in
 
 INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR XVII. 
 
 his literary work. A brief outline of the life thus 
 comprehended may fitly be included here. He was 
 born in Carbondale, Pennsylvania, June 30, 1849. 
 At an early age he removed, with his parents, to 
 Sheffield, Bureau County, Illinois. When about 
 fifteen years of age, through his acquaintance with a 
 telegraph operator in whose office the bright lad was a 
 welcome visitor, he acquired a knowledge of the art 
 of telegraphing, and soon became an expert and effi- 
 cient operator. Those were the days of < sound ' 
 telegraphy; and Mr. Ensign attained such skill that in 
 a short time he was sent to Davenport, Iowa, where 
 he was the receiver of press reports for the Western 
 Union Telegraph Company. Soon he was transferred 
 to Colorado, and had a varied experience in Denver 
 and other places, where he acquired a considerable 
 knowledge of frontier life, and of the mountains, some 
 of which appears in the present volume. 
 
 Mr. Ensign had been reared under the influence 
 of religion, being a member of the Congregational 
 Church ; and when about twenty years of age he left 
 Denver and entered Phillips Academy in Massachu- 
 setts, intending to study for the ministry. His health 
 or finances failing, he soon left school and went to 
 Chicago, where he accepted a business position with 
 the American Bridge Company. During the great
 
 XV'iii. INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR 
 
 fire of 1871, he was able to render an important 
 service to his employers by rescuing from their offices 
 some valuable books and taking them to a place of 
 safety. 
 
 A few years after this, there was founded in 
 Chicago a weekly periodical which, though its course 
 ran but a few brief years, must be remembered as one 
 of the most meritorious and notable journals ever 
 published in that city. This was l The Alliance,' a 
 weekly journal, mildly religious, broadly humanitarian, 
 and more fairly literary than anything in Chicago 
 except the ' Lakeside Monthly,' established on a 
 sort of ministerial cooperative plan by a group of 
 earnest and liberal clergymen, among whom were the 
 Rev. Robert Collyer, the Rev. David Swing, the Rev. 
 H. N. Powers, the Rev. C. D. Helmer, and the Rev. 
 H. W. Thomas ; all strong men and forces for good 
 in their day, and two of them (Drs. Collyer and 
 Thomas) still in ours. Of this brilliant combination 
 of stars, Mr. Ensign became the attempted manager 
 or business agent ; but it was too brilliant to last, and 
 presently it fell apart and Rrofessor Swing and Mr. 
 Ensign acquired full ownership and control of the 
 concern. About this time (1877) I became the lit- 
 erary editor of the ambitious little paper, and then 
 began my acquaintance and friendship with Mr.
 
 INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR XIX. 
 
 Ensign which continued uninterrupted for over twenty 
 years. Presently there came some business disagree- 
 ment, when Mr. Ensign and I retired from ' The 
 Alliance,' which fell upon evil days, and its feeble 
 light went out utterly a year or two afterwards. 
 Under Mr. Ensign's management it was a good and 
 promising paper, and should have continued a civiliz- 
 ing influence in Chicago, where the people needed it 
 more than they knew. 
 
 The prosperity that Mr. Ensign had sought vainly 
 in ' The Alliance ' seemed to come easily to him 
 thereafter. His experience in journalism he turned to 
 practical account in adopting advertising as his future 
 business, following it with marked success and acquir- 
 ing a competence in twenty years. Fertile in fancy 
 and quick in expedient, he devised a new form of 
 newspaper advertising, technically known as 'headline 
 reading advertising,' which was a great novelty in its 
 day and secured him large contracts from extensive 
 advertisers. In 1881 or 1882 Mr. Ensign removed 
 to Rochester, N. Y., and in 1884 to New York City, 
 which was his home until his death, February 9, 1899. 
 
 The ingenuity and fertility of Mr. Ensign's mind 
 led him into the region of mechanical invention, and 
 one of his patented devices stereotyped plates with 
 interchangeable base, for supplying reading matter to
 
 XX. INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR 
 
 country papers is still in successful use. He also, 
 while but a boy, obtained a patent on some improved 
 device for hydraulic elevators. His inventive faculty 
 was not limited to mechanics : he invented dramatic 
 situations and wrote plays, one of which he himself 
 put on the stage with considerable success throughout 
 the country. But his buoyant temperament and too 
 confiding nature scarcely fitted him for the duties of a 
 theatrical manager. 
 
 Mr. Ensign made frequent trips to Europe, and in 
 summers took long camping vacations in the woods of 
 the Northeast and of Canada. When in New York 
 his home was usually at the Lotos Club, where his 
 warm and kindly disposition made him a general 
 favorite. His mother died in his early life; and he 
 was never married. He had a great affection for 
 a beautiful horse 'Lady Lee,' the heroine of the 
 story in this volume ; and he drove her almost daily 
 for nearly fifteen years. He was an enthusiastic 
 member of the Gentlemen's Driving Association at 
 the old Fleetwood Park, having won the silver cup 
 there, and other prizes on other occasions, driving his 
 own horse. Professional racing and track gambling 
 he abhorred, and though he owned some fine horses, 
 would never allow them to go upon the race-track. 
 
 Like so many busy men, Mr. Ensign was looking
 
 INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR XXI. 
 
 forward to a life of leisure, in which, freed from all 
 cares of business, he would devote himself to the 
 humane work and the literary work which he was 
 wont to regard as his chief concerns in life. But 
 the end came suddenly, in the fulness of his life 
 and strength, leaving many purposes unfulfilled and 
 much work unfinished. The habit of writing, formed 
 in his journalistic days, never left him, and he had 
 numerous plans for literary tasks which he never con- 
 summated. Among the mass of papers left at his 
 death were found, besides the ten short stories here 
 presented, an unfinished novel, several plays and light 
 operas, and various fragmentary things. But of them 
 all, the best, as being most characteristic and expres- 
 sive of the purposes and interests of his life, are the 
 stories or sketches presented in this volume, to which 
 it is my sad privilege, as an old friend and literary 
 associate of the author, to prefix this brief memoir 
 and appreciation. 
 
 FRANCIS FISHER BROWNE. 
 
 Chicago, August, 1900.
 
 LADY LEE
 
 LADY LEE. 
 
 FIRST met her in a coun- 
 try lane. She was trotting 
 toward me with all the ease 
 and freedom of a young and 
 healthful creature, while I 
 was trudging along with all 
 the depression of a jaded 
 dilettante. She stopped sud- 
 denly, and looked at me 
 with lustrous eyes whose 
 depths and gentleness I afterwards learned to fathom. 
 She had no fear ; it was only surprise and mild curi- 
 osity. As for me well, it was a case of love 
 at first sight. I spoke to her, and attempted to 
 approach her. At first she seemed disposed to repel 
 my advances ; but presently, with ears erect, nostrils 
 dilated, and neck arched, she suffered me to come 
 to her and stroke her. I recalled that Hans Chris- 
 tian Andersen always carried fruits and sweetmeats 
 in his pockets for the little folks he might meet in
 
 26 Lady Lee 
 
 his walks ; and just then I would have given all 
 the loose change I had in my pocket for a single 
 lump of sugar. It pleased me, though, to see how 
 well she liked caresses. Most horses, unfortunately, 
 have little or no capacity for affection. A dog must 
 love, must worship someone ; a horse possesses many 
 of the qualities of an anchorite. But the trim and 
 jaunty filly I was then patting seemed to delight in 
 friendship, in sympathy, in love. 
 
 While our very pleasant visit was in progress, 
 one of the participants suddenly seemed to remem- 
 ber something, just as a man of business will some- 
 times start and look at his watch. She made a quick 
 movement, arched her neck gracefully, swept her 
 long tail proudly, and with a queenly step pranced 
 from me in the direction from which she had come. 
 I stood and watched her as she disappeared, increasing 
 her speed every instant, but never once abandoning 
 the perfect trot which seemed to be her natural 
 heritage. 
 
 On the following day I found myself again in 
 the same lane ; and, to my surprise not less than 
 gratification, I again met my acquaintance of the day
 
 Lady Lee 27 
 
 before. This time, fortunately, I had some bon-bons 
 in my pocket, the remnants of a package I had dis- 
 tributed among the children on the piazza of the 
 hotel. I could see at once that the little filly was 
 unaccustomed to sweets, and I watched her face 
 while she tried the first mouthful. It was a charming 
 study of animal expression. Her eyes seemed to 
 dilate with pleasure, her nostrils expanded, her breath 
 came quicker, and there was an eagerness in the way 
 she turned toward me that was more eloquent than 
 words. She knew the juices of the sweet grass she 
 had so often cropped, and from which her abundant 
 life came ; she had received saccharine flavors and 
 foretastes in the corn and oats she had consumed ; 
 but here was sweetness in its most concentrated form. 
 It was a new and pleasing discovery in her life ; and 
 she was plainly grateful to the one who had revealed 
 it to her. 
 
 I took my walks in the same direction each day 
 thereafter, and always found my beautiful equine 
 friend awaiting me. Sometimes we strolled along the 
 country roads together, and while I chatted to her 
 freely of my admiration, I was quite satisfied, from her
 
 28 Lady Lee 
 
 dilating nostrils, changeful expression, docile manner, 
 and occasional whinny in varying tones, that she 
 understood and reciprocated my attachment. One 
 day I chanced to see a rare flower growing in a field 
 we were passing, and I instantly climbed the fence 
 to secure it. What was my surprise to see my 
 companion leap the fence as easily as if it had been 
 one foot in height instead of five, and as readily 
 retake it when I returned to the highway. It was 
 this doubtful accomplishment, as I afterwards learned, 
 which gave her the holidays we were enjoying and 
 from which she conscientiously returned each day. 
 Every evening found her safely back in the field 
 from which she had strayed. 
 
 It was nearly a fortnight from the time I first 
 met Lady Lee (the name with which I had chris- 
 tened my new friend, and which she immediately 
 acknowledged), that in taking my usual stroll I saw 
 her at a distance in her accustomed place, but not 
 alone. Xhe slender figure of a lady was beside 
 her, evidently visiting with her, very much as I had 
 done. I came very near them before they observed 
 me ; then Lady Lee gave a start of delight, and
 
 Lady Lee 29 
 
 her companion one of surprise. As plainly as though 
 it had been expressed in words, the little mare invited 
 me to approach. I was about to pass on, with a 
 touch of the hat ; but before I could do so, the 
 bright intelligent head of the filly was thrust before 
 me, my course was gently turned aside, and I found 
 myself face to face with Lady Lee's companion. 
 The thing was done. An introduction had taken 
 place, and I involuntarily joined in the laugh which 
 the young lady could not repress. 
 
 1 1 presume we are introduced by a mutual friend,' 
 I observed ; ' and certainly by one whose endorse- 
 ment is genuine.' 
 
 4 1 think so,' she replied. c One who can win 
 the love of an animal must have good qualities.' 
 
 ' Or seem to have ? ' I asked, at the same time 
 handing her my card. 
 
 1 No ! ' said she. c A fine horse's instincts are 
 much like a woman's. They detect the genuine 
 and reject the spurious.' 
 
 ' I fear, then, our little friend has a bad master, 
 or she would not be so often away from home. 
 Do you know who owns her ? '
 
 30 Lady Lee 
 
 4 I do not. My acquaintance with her is a 
 recent one, but we are good friends, are n't we, 
 beauty ? ' and she stroked the shapely neck beside 
 her. I noticed then, for the first time, some long 
 ridges on the flanks of the mare, showing plainly 
 she had recently been beaten, and not with a com- 
 mon whip, either. I called the young lady's atten- 
 tion to this, and a shadow passed over her face 
 like a ruffle over the surface of a clear lake. I knew 
 we both felt the same sentiment of indignation at 
 the brute in human form who had been guilty of 
 the cruelty. 
 
 While we were talking, I saw a man at some 
 distance coming along the path toward us. Lady 
 Lee also noticed him ; she pricked her ears, and 
 snuffed ominously. It was evident she was ill at 
 ease ; and as the man came nearer she started as 
 though about to run away. I spoke kindly to her, 
 which she quickly acknowledged, but did not take 
 her eyes from the approaching figure. It was painful 
 to see her anxiety ; and the young lady by my side 
 seemed to be watching matters with the greatest 
 interest.
 
 Lady Lee 31 
 
 1 Hold on to her, stranger ! ' the man called out, 
 when he had approached within a few rods ; but at 
 the sound of his voice the little filly started ner- 
 vously, and bounded away at a pace it was useless 
 for him to attempt to follow. 
 
 4 Consarn her ! ' said the man, as he came up to 
 us, his face flushed and every feature showing anger. 
 4 That infernal brute gives me more trouble than 
 all my other hosses together.' 
 
 ' In what way ? ' I inquired. 
 
 1 Why, in runnin' away,' he replied. 4 1 hain't 
 got a fence on the place that '11 keep her in.' 
 
 c And so you beat her with a fence-rail, to try 
 to coax her to stay with you, do you ? Have you 
 ever thought that it might be your cruelty that 
 drives her away from home ? ' 
 
 ' If she do n't behave she 's got to be licked, 
 hain't she ? " Spare the rod an' spile the child." 
 That 's Bible doctrine for children, an' I reckon it '11 
 hold good for animals.' 
 
 4 Yes, and I think the Almighty will put it 
 into practice sometime, and that you will be the 
 animal.'
 
 32 Lady Lee 
 
 ' Me ? Why, I 'm a deacon in the church, in 
 good an' reg'lar standin', an' give more to the cause 
 than any other man in town.' 
 
 1 And then go home and impose upon the helpless 
 creatures that God has placed in your charge, not 
 for any wrong they have done, but because you are 
 angry, and must vent your rage on something. If 
 your religion does n't keep you in check, and prayer 
 is of no avail, why do n't you go out into the fields 
 and relieve your mind by swearing ? This, at all 
 events, will not hurt others, even if it does n't help 
 you. But I will give you a little practical aid in 
 the pursuit of godliness, by offering to buy this colt 
 that is such a stumbling-block in your religious path. 
 I will give you four hundred dollars for her.' 
 
 The keen grey eyes of the man sparkled as he 
 heard the offer ; and I saw his sordid, grasping 
 nature. He quickly began to extol the mare's good 
 qualities, as strongly as he had previously railed 
 against her. 
 
 4 That colt 's more promisin' than any on the 
 place,' said he, 'an' she's dirt cheap at four hundred. 
 I wouldn't sell her nohow if't wan't for her pesky
 
 Lady Lee 33 
 
 habit o' jumpin' out o' the lot. My folks thinks 
 a heap of her, too ; an' I 'd hate to part with her 
 myself.' 
 
 But I cut him short. 4 1 want no jockeying,' I 
 said. 4 Do you wish to sell or not ? ' 
 
 After a few more hypocritical protests, he agreed 
 to my terms, and said he would deliver the mare 
 that evening. 
 
 1 No, indeed,' I replied, c I '11 see to her delivery 
 myself.' 
 
 1 Kin you ketch her ? ' 
 
 4 1 '11 attend to that.' 
 
 I But you 've got no halter.' 
 
 I 1 do not need one.' 
 
 1 Wai, mebbe you 're a hoss-tamer I do n't 
 know.' 
 
 ' I am. Do you want to know how I do it ? ' 
 
 ' Cert'nly.' 
 
 4 By kindness. Suppose you try it. But I fear 
 it would n't come in your line. If you could be 
 born again, there might be some hope for you.' 
 
 With that I turned to the young lady, who had 
 been an interested witness of our conversation, and
 
 34 Lady Lee 
 
 offered to escort her home, telling the farmer to call 
 at the hotel that evening for his money. 
 
 There was a singular charm about my new 
 acquaintance. Doubtless the novel introduction had 
 something to do with it ; but I found myself growing 
 more and more interested as we chatted and strolled 
 along. She was not one to impress a man strongly 
 at first sight, although she was unquestionably beau- 
 tiful ; but a few moments' conversation served to 
 reveal a nature wonderfully womanly and yet strong 
 in fibre. I knew instinctively that she loved the 
 world of art in all its forms, but drew her highest 
 inspiration from Nature. And so I found myself 
 surrounded by an atmosphere of sentiment, of pleas- 
 ure, and of healthfulness. She was spending the 
 summer with her mother, in a quiet hotel across 
 the river, and some two miles up the stream. She 
 took long walks each day, usually in new directions, 
 and seemed to be familiar with the country and its 
 beauties. When I returned to the hotel I realized 
 that in Miss Elmore I had found more than a passing 
 acquaintance ; and thoughts of her filled my mind
 
 Lady Lee 35 
 
 during the remainder of the day, and inspired my 
 dreams that night. 
 
 I found the monotony of country life strikingly 
 varied by my attempts to break Lady Lee to harness. 
 She was gentle and docile, but she had some little 
 peculiarities of her own. One of these was a strong 
 dislike to having anything in her mouth that she 
 could not eat. It was a laborious task, but she 
 seemed to understand that we were good friends ; 
 and at last she became tractable, and I drove her to 
 wagon wherever I chose. I must confess this was 
 usually in the direction of the little hotel across the 
 river. Miss Elmore took a surprising interest in my 
 pupil ; and it was not long before I found myself 
 speculating, with a seriousness that was almost amus- 
 ing in its novelty, upon the problem whether or not 
 any portion of the lady's interest in the horse could 
 reasonably be appropriated by the horse's owner. 
 However that might be, her attentions to Lady Lee 
 were clearly marked, and as clearly reciprocated by 
 the affectionate animal. 
 
 One bright morning in August, the very mildness
 
 36 Lady Lee 
 
 of which foretold the coming heat, I drove Lady Lee 
 along the bank of the river in the direction of the 
 little hotel. We had become well acquainted with 
 this road Lady and I, and so I did not observe 
 particularly the familiar scene around me. As we 
 came to a bend in the river, I saw a small boat 
 a short distance up the stream, and instantly rec- 
 ognized its occupant as Miss Elmore. The quick 
 eye of Lady Lee had also detected this fact, and 
 she raised her ears and whinnied knowingly. As we 
 came nearer, I called Miss Elmore's name. At 
 the sound of my voice, she started quickly, and 
 turned so suddenly that the light shell she was pulling 
 careened, and in another instant she was in the water. 
 At that moment, however uncertain I may have been 
 before, I had no doubts regarding the nature of my 
 feeling for Miss Elmore. 
 
 I knew the distance was so great that my 
 strength would not avail to rescue her. And yet 
 what could I do ? I turned toward Lady Lee. She 
 stood trembling in every muscle, her nostrils dilated 
 to their utmost, with her gaze fixed upon the spot 
 where Miss Elmore had sunk. Quick as thought I
 
 Lady Lee 37 
 
 saw a means of rescue. I would swim Lady Lee 
 and save the woman I then knew I loved. Xo 
 loosen the mare from the vehicle was the work of 
 a moment ; but before I could act further, before I 
 could even think, she had bounded away from me, 
 had plunged into the stream, and was swimming 
 rapidly toward the overturned boat. Even now, 
 with all the losses Time extorts from Memory, I 
 can see her. I see the proud head carried high 
 above the stream ; the strong flanks as they part 
 the waters and propel the beautiful animal through 
 them; the queenly mane, the sweeping tail, all 
 are pictured as clearly as if it were yesterday. I see 
 her approach the boat to which a slender form is 
 clinging ; I see her gently turn and float her strong 
 body by its side. I see the brave girl twine her 
 white hands in the dark mane, and draw herself, with 
 a grace which even peril cannot banish, upon the 
 back of Lady Lee. I see the noble creature turn 
 and swim straight toward me; and then my eyes 
 become so dimmed with tears that I see no more, 
 until I find my darling's head upon my shoulder, her 
 arms about my neck, and Lady Lee by my side.
 
 38 Lady Lee 
 
 How rapidly and delightfully the balance of the 
 summer passed, I need not recount. Every day 
 found me by my fiancee, and Lady Lee was invari- 
 ably with us. She seemed to be a bond of union 
 inseparable from our love. Through her we first 
 met, by her we were betrothed, and, alas! from 
 her we were soon to part. She appeared at times to 
 develop more than human instinct. On one occa- 
 sion, while driving, we came to a bridge which we 
 had often crossed before. As we approached, Lady 
 Lee showed unusual excitement, and when we came 
 to the entrance she absolutely refused to set her foot 
 upon it. I spoke to her sharply ; she turned her 
 head and looked at me appealingly, but refused to 
 advance a step. I stepped to her head and attempted 
 to lead her ; but it was useless. Finally, rather than 
 treat her harshly, I humored her supposed whim, 
 turned, and drove in another direction. The change 
 in her feelings was at once apparent. She pranced, 
 raised and lowered her head continually, and showed 
 her joy in innumerable ways. We finished a delight- 
 ful drive, and were alighting at the hotel, when the 
 groom informed me that the very bridge we had
 
 Lady Lee 39 
 
 attempted to cross had gone down under the weight 
 of a farmer's empty wagon, killing one horse and 
 seriously injuring the farmer. I have often wondered 
 how Lady Lee could have known that bridge was 
 unsafe. Her quick sensibilities possibly felt some 
 ominous tremble the last time she had crossed it. A 
 vibration, such as men might fail to notice, is often 
 felt by even so ponderous an animal as an elephant ; 
 why, then, should not a finely bred horse, every atom 
 of whose body is alive with feeling, detect material 
 dangers that duller senses overlook ? Be that as it 
 may, we were saved by Lady Lee from crossing the 
 bridge which went down under the weight of the 
 next one who essayed it. 
 
 I found that Lady Lee possessed great possibilities 
 of speed. Her gait was natural and easy. In ordi- 
 nary travel she assumed the long swinging step uni- 
 versal with roadsters ; but when called upon for any 
 special effort, her entire manner changed. She seized 
 the bit firmly, threw her ears back, lowered her body 
 as it seemed almost a foot, spread her flanks so that 
 her hind feet fell fully six inches outside of the fore 
 feet, and without a particle of lateral motion shot
 
 40 . Lady Lee 
 
 straight forward with movements as regular as those 
 of an engine piston. She loved to show her speed ; 
 but I indulged her in it only on rare occasions. 
 
 Contrary to the accepted theories, I broke her 
 to the saddle. I was fearful, at first, that she would 
 seek to put in practice some of her saddle gaits when 
 being driven ; but I soon found her gaits and manners 
 were entirely different when before a wagon and 
 when under a saddle. 
 
 At last the summer ended, and I returned to the 
 city. My fiancee, who lived with her mother some 
 distance up-town, was to remain a few days longer 
 in the country ; but we had planned more than 
 enough to occupy our leisure time on her return. 
 Riding and driving were a prominent feature of our 
 programme, for they were pastimes of which we were 
 both extremely fond. I had no little curiosity to see 
 how Lady Lee, a shy country maiden, would accept 
 the noise, bustle, and novel sights of the city. The 
 first day I drove her after returning home, I met a 
 friend soon after leaving the stable. Stopping to chat 
 with him a moment, I spoke to Lady Lee, when the 
 unsophisticated creature started ofF upon the sidewalk,
 
 Lady Lee 41 
 
 thinking it a better road than the street. Poor little 
 thing ! she had never seen a sidewalk before. But 
 she quickly dropped into city ways, and became 
 accustomed to city sights even the elevated rail- 
 roads. There were a few things, however, she never 
 could fully understand. Principal among these were 
 the statues in the Park. She never passed the Web- 
 ster- monument without looking up, almost with 
 veneration, at the massive man who stood there 
 silent and grand. The power he exercised over 
 humanity when alive seemed to be felt by this sen- 
 sitive creature even in its bronze embodiment. 
 
 The winter passed, with its snows, its sleigh- 
 bells, its storms, and its pleasures ; and spring was 
 foretold by buds and birds. Old men, who had 
 hibernated all winter, ventured out in close carriages, 
 wrapped in furs to the chin. Dowagers who were 
 recovering from the effects of social campaigning in 
 a determined effort to keep their position on a par 
 with their money, were out in the Park resplendent 
 in rumbling carriages and jingling harnesses. It was 
 upon one of the days that bring the squirrel from 
 his home to feed on the newly formed buds, that
 
 42 Lady Lee 
 
 Miss Elmore and I rode through the Park together. 
 We were both in such a happy frame of mind that 
 we found little to say ; yet everything about us 
 seemed to contribute to our enjoyment. After fin- 
 ishing the Park, we rode on toward the Riverside 
 Drive, and drew our horses up to take in the won- 
 derful view from the height near Grant's Xomb. 
 Lady Lee seemed to enjoy the sight as much as we 
 did. She would look up the river toward the Pali- 
 sades, glance at Fort Lee, and draw deep breaths of 
 healthful enjoyment. We turned reluctantly from 
 the scene, and rode leisurely down the drive, con- 
 scious only of happiness, and with no premonition 
 of possible disaster. 
 
 We had gone perhaps half a mile, when I heard 
 a heavy rolling of wheels, a quick clatter of hoofs, 
 and the sound of voices, around a bend in the drive 
 just behind us. I turned in the saddle, and saw a 
 heavy carnage, drawn by a large pair of horses over 
 which the driver had lost all control. They were 
 coming toward us. I instantly spoke to Miss Elmore, 
 telling her to draw out of the road ; and I at once 
 tightened the ' reins upon Lady Lee. She seemed
 
 Lady Lee 
 
 understand the situati. 
 e team came by ! 
 to the same rate > 
 
 quickly drew akv 
 e nearest horse. At th 
 ickened her pace, giving me 
 e reins I desired. The 
 
 en|e()(t 
 nearest horse.' 
 
 .DRAWING BY MAX F. KLEP PR . 
 
 
 rget herself or swt 
 leek which had been given 
 
 em under subjection, and I ied Lady Lee to the 
 he drive, where I was quickly ji
 
 
 OIIJp 1 

 
 Lady Lee 43 
 
 to understand the situation perfectly, so that when 
 the team came by her side she was ready to break 
 into the same rate of speed as that of the runaways. 
 I quickly drew alongside, and seized the bridle of 
 the nearest horse. At the same moment, Lady Lee 
 slackened her pace, giving me just the purchase on 
 the reins I desired. The sudden movement checked 
 the animal's speed, and seemed to recall him to his 
 senses -, but his mate, maddened by the check he 
 had received, plunged forward and sideways with 
 increased fury, and in doing so turned the pole of 
 the wagon abruptly around. Before I could prevent 
 it, I saw the sharp end of the pole, surmounted by 
 the silver-plated serpentine point such as the Devil 
 of Fashion alone could have devised, pierce the neck 
 of Lady Lee just above the breast, and as quickly 
 emerge followed by a crimson stream from a large 
 artery. I felt the noble animal tremble beneath me 
 with pain; but not for an instant did she seem to 
 forget herself or swerve from the duty at hand. The 
 check which had been given the team soon brought 
 them under subjection, and I led Lady Lee to the 
 side of the drive, where I was quickly joined by my
 
 44 Lady Lee 
 
 companion. I applied my handkerchief to the wound, 
 but it was swept away by the crimson torrent. I 
 seized a blanket from the bewildered coachman, who 
 was standing beside his panting team ; but it also 
 was quickly saturated. ' My God ! ' I cried, ' must 
 I stand here and see the life go out of this lovely 
 creature without a possibility of checking it ? Is 
 there no Power that, recognizing an heroic sacrifice, 
 yet permits the innocent victim to suffer ? Are we 
 indeed in Hebrew times, when lambs, doves, and 
 embodied innocence must be sacrificed on the altar 
 of human pride ? ' And then in my heart I cursed 
 the demon Fashion, that puts torturing appliances 
 at the sides of horses' mouths to make them champ 
 and prance ; that docks their tails, and trims their 
 hoofs down to the quick ; that loads them with 
 heavy-plated harnesses, jingling and irritating chains, 
 and pointed poles to pierce the necks of innocent 
 dumb companions. What I said, what I did, I only 
 partially remember ; but I know a weeping girl clung 
 to me, while we both stroked the head of our friend 
 dying before us. There she lay upon the freshly- 
 started grass, her strength failing at every heart-throb.
 
 Lady Lee 45 
 
 Her eyes, once so fiery, were slowly losing their 
 lustre. Her head, always so proud, lay feebly upon 
 the turf. But she still acknowledged the caresses 
 we bestowed, and her glance still spoke her affection. 
 We bowed our heads upon the poor dumb face ; 
 and so, surrounded by loving human friends, and 
 without a struggle, the life spirit of Lady Lee 
 departed.
 
 GENTLEMAN JACK
 
 GENTLEMAN JACK. 
 
 E was one of the smallest 
 canine creatures I ever 
 saw, on the day I 
 received him, nicely 
 packed in a basket, 
 direct from the company 
 of his mother, brothers, 
 and sisters. His newly 
 opened eyes blinked in- 
 quiringly, as the cover 
 was taken from the basket ; and when I lifted him 
 out and placed him on the table he cried pitifully, as 
 though he felt lost and homeless. I stroked his soft 
 fur gently, and at the touch he turned and licked 
 my hand, piteously begging me not to harm him. 
 * Poor little Jack,' I thought, 4 only two weeks in 
 this world, and cast out upon the uncertain mercy 
 of mankind ! One who knows the brutality of man 
 cannot wonder that you plead for tenderness.' 
 
 I felt drawn toward the little fellow from the
 
 50 Gentleman Jack 
 
 first. He was a charming combination of pink and 
 white, with large brown eyes that opened and closed 
 uncertainly. His attempts to walk were laughable. 
 He would start out, after mature deliberation, lifting 
 his pudgy feet in the most determined manner, and 
 end by a curious reel and a fall upon his nose. 
 But he never seemed discouraged ; neither would he 
 show the least flinching, when I lifted him by the 
 back of the neck and set his wayward steps right. 
 Indeed, even at that early age he always looked up 
 into my face after such service, as if to thank me. 
 His education seemed to be a natural outgrowth 
 of our good feelings toward each other. Most of 
 the suggestions that I made were well received, 
 although I found the little fellow had the stubborn 
 will-power characteristic of all bull-terriers. When- 
 ever I gave him a lesson on any subject, he would 
 seem to reflect upon it, and his subsequent conduct 
 decided whether or not a second lesson was required. 
 But he came successfully through the various stages 
 of puppyhood, gradually dropping the awkward ways 
 incident to his rapid growth, and at last developed 
 into as fine a creature as I could desire. Even while
 
 Gentleman Jack 51 
 
 growing, he seemed to possess a natural dignity of 
 manner; and when fully developed, this quality 
 became fixed. He was courteous to everyone, but 
 not over-familiar even to me. He showed a keen 
 enjoyment of life, but always kept it within proper 
 bounds. 
 
 I provided him a home at the stable, where was 
 kept, in addition to the horses, a little Scotch terrier. 
 Jack seemed to realize instinctively his position as 
 a superior being, but he always showed the greatest 
 deference and courtesy to the little terrier. He 
 never objected in the least when she snatched the 
 food from before him, or protested even if she took 
 it out of his mouth. But how different was his 
 conduct with other dogs ! Whenever a small dog 
 came about the stable he would watch him intently, 
 following him everywhere, but never harming him, 
 unless he undertook to disturb something, when a 
 warning mutter was usually sufficient. The same 
 was true with dogs of the opposite sex. But when- 
 ever any other dog, no matter how large he might 
 be, came within his jurisdiction, there were never 
 any preliminaries, no questions were asked, Jack
 
 52 Gentleman Jack 
 
 attacked him at once, and he was always victorious. 
 And yet he did not seem really to care for fighting, 
 it rather appeared to him a duty, and he discharged 
 it in a direct and business-like way. 
 
 Jack seemed to have some peculiar notions of 
 the rights of sex in human beings. He acknowledged 
 me as master, and would obey my commands 
 except in the matter of fighting ; but he would take 
 no orders from my wife. He was greatly attached 
 to her, planned for her happiness on several occa- 
 sions as, for example, when he collected a motley 
 bouquet of weeds and flowers from the garden, which 
 he presented to her, holding it in his mouth but 
 he would never obey her. He would not rebel, he 
 simply ignored her commands. 
 
 A strong attachment sprang up between Jack and 
 the horses, especially my favorite mare. I often 
 saw them hobnobbing together in the most intelli- 
 gent manner, and it was a common thing for Jack 
 to forsake his soft bed and sleep in the same box 
 stall with her. One day the coachman got under 
 the influence of liquor. In attempting to groom the 
 mare, he, for some reason, became enraged, and, as
 
 many drunken ; 
 do, sought 
 
 brutal 
 
 ing :, 
 
 ' 
 
 . * The animal dm would not sec his friend aim 
 from the hands of the sf^v- , , , 
 
 ffle "hrftom in his mouth.' 
 
 growling before him.^Qj^;^ , ( - ARrrR H KAR,. 
 of the act sobered an 
 away, leaving the t* 
 and open to mutual i 
 
 There came a time when ' 
 became the m<; .; 
 amusing to see how Jack reg,:, 
 more amusing to see how indulgent i, 
 No matter how much they insisted .vith 
 
 him, he never refused their whims. I have seen 
 them sink their little teeth into his .ears, and bite

 
 Gentleman Jack 53 
 
 many drunken (and too many presumably sober) men 
 do, sought to vent his anger on something defence- 
 less. He seized the broom and struck the mare a 
 brutal blow on the quarters. Jack was quietly sleep- 
 ing at the other end of the stable when the blow 
 was struck, but he instantly awoke, and started up 
 in surprise. Again the broom was raised, and, that 
 the blow might be effective, was carried far back- 
 ward ; but it did not descend upon the horse. The 
 animal that would not see his friend abused seized 
 the broom in his mouth from behind, wrenched it 
 from the hands of the groom, and stood glaring and 
 growling before him. The suddenness and firmness 
 of the act sobered and cowed the man, and he slunk 
 away, leaving the two friends masters of the 'field 
 and open to mutual congratulations. 
 
 There came a time when the little Scotch terrier 
 became the mother of some smaller terriers. It was 
 amusing to see how Jack regarded them, and still 
 more amusing to see how indulgent he was to them. 
 No matter how much they insisted on playing with 
 him, he never refused their whims. I have seen 
 them sink their little teeth into his ears, and bite
 
 54 Gentleman Jack 
 
 his foreleg (the most sensitive spot in a dog's anat- 
 omy), but I never heard a whimper or even a protest. 
 Indeed, while the mother often neglected the edu- 
 cation of her offspring, I have seen Jack encourage 
 the youngsters in their rummagings among the straw 
 for possible rats. The fact that his mission on earth 
 was not that of a rat-catcher did not seem to deter 
 him in his interest in the training of those who were 
 so called. 
 
 It happened one day that a heedless puppy, scout- 
 ing about, fell into the water tank. He was so 
 quickly submerged that he could not utter a cry ; 
 but the alert ear of Jack detected the splash. Run- 
 ning to the side of the tank, Jack took in the situa- 
 tion, and in another instant he was splashing about 
 in the water and trying to seize the unfortunate 
 puppy. At last he was successful, and brought the 
 limp little animal forth, dripping, and looking more 
 like a sponge than anything else. After he had 
 succeeded in fishing him out, Jack gave the urchin 
 a vigorous shaking, ostensibly to dry his coat, but I 
 have always suspected that it was for the additional 
 purpose of giving him a warning to be more careful
 
 Gentleman Jack 55 
 
 in future. A close examination of the puppy, how- 
 ever, showed that the skin had not been injured in 
 the least, but that he had been seized by his long 
 matted hair. 
 
 But if Jack's actions toward helpless members 
 of the canine race were marked by striking peculiar- 
 ities, they were no less so toward those of the human 
 race. The first time our nurse wheeled the baby in 
 the yard, Jack came out of the stable and gravely 
 inspected both the carriage and its contents. He 
 looked up into the face of the nurse, and then at 
 my window, where I was an interested spectator. 
 Something like a smile seemed to steal over his face ; 
 he wagged his tail approvingly, nodded his head, and 
 returned to the stable ; but thereafter he always took 
 an absorbing interest in the child. I have seen him 
 stand and look down into her baby face, while she 
 laughed, crowed, pulled his ears and pounded his 
 nose, and all the while Jack seemed to be enjoying 
 the operation as much as she did. 
 
 On one occasion the nurse was wheeling the 
 little one, when the letter-carrier, in his grey suit, 
 came along. For some reason the carriage seemed
 
 5 6 Gentleman Jack 
 
 to obstruct his way, and he pushed it hastily to one 
 side, at the same time speaking harshly. The child 
 began to cry, when, with a single bound, and before 
 the carrier really knew what had occurred, Jack had 
 torn his collar and tie completely from his throat and 
 stood glaring at him defiantly. The man hastened 
 away ; but from that time Jack cherished a strong 
 antipathy to letter-carriers or anyone dressed in grey. 
 
 Appreciation of humor is largely a matter of 
 education. The savage sees the ludicrous only in 
 physical mishaps ; the highly cultivated, in mental 
 subtleties. I have often detected a glimmer of mirth 
 in many animals, but I never saw the faculty so keen 
 as in my canine protege. He always enjoyed the 
 mishaps of others, although solicitous for the welfare 
 of the unfortunate. He enjoyed playing tricks of a 
 harmless nature upon other animals. A favorite one 
 was to feign lameness, and thus throw certain bullies 
 off their guard. The satisfaction he enjoyed when 
 they discovered their mistake was immense. 
 
 And now I come to the tragic portion of Jack's 
 history. It was midsummer. The season of roses 
 had passed ; the leaves and grasses that had lately
 
 Gentleman Jack 57 
 
 been so bright and vigorous lost life and color, and 
 only moved their dust-covered blades when hot passing 
 breezes compelled it. Humanity seemed to share the 
 general languor, and manifested but little life and less 
 enterprise. In the midst of that heated term I was 
 called away on an important mission. It promised 
 to keep me a few days I was absent a fortnight. 
 I returned on one of the hottest days of that never- 
 to-be-forgotten summer. No carnages were at the 
 station, and I was compelled to walk to my home. 
 As I turned into the street in which I lived, it was 
 a relief to feel the shade of the elms that bordered 
 it on either side. I glanced toward the house, and 
 saw two children playing under the trees, one of 
 whom, even at that distance, I recognized as my 
 little daughter. Healthful infant life will assert itself 
 under influences that would oppress maturer years. 
 The heat was not oppressive, but grateful, to my 
 child. I came within a block of where the children 
 were playing. Their laughter was ringing in my 
 ears and thrilling my paternal senses. In another 
 minute my child's arms would be about my neck, her 
 dancing eyes looking into mine, and her witching
 
 58 Gentleman Jack 
 
 voice carolling notes of love. There was a sudden 
 movement at the corner just beyond. \Vhat was 
 once a noble mastiff, but had become a rabid devil, 
 darted into view. His mouth was white with foam ; 
 his crimson eyes seemed to stand out from his head ; 
 his harsh voice was fiercer than the bloodhound's. 
 He saw the children, and their innocent presence 
 seemed to increase his fury. He rushed straight for 
 my child. I saw his movement, saw the policeman 
 who came panting around the corner in pursuit, saw 
 the look of horror upon the faces of the children, 
 but I was powerless to move a muscle paralyzed 
 by the deadly peril of my innocent child. By a 
 supreme effort I collected my faculties, and rushed 
 forward ; but I knew I should be too late. There 
 was an inaudible prayer upon my lips : then came a 
 quick flash of white across the scene, and my prayer 
 was answered. In another moment my child was 
 safe in my arms, while in a writhing, growling mass 
 upon the ground, Jack and the rabid giant were set- 
 tling the question of existence. I knew how it 
 would end, but joy for the safety of my child drove 
 from my mind all other thoughts. I caressed her,
 
 w ?.
 
 Jack and the rabid giant were settling the question of 
 
 existence.' 
 DRAWING BY J. CARTER BKAKIV 
 
 i . Elected my 
 :i-\v I should he
 
 Gentleman Jack 59 
 
 listened to the music of her happy voice, and was 
 carried by it to paradise. But like lightning came a 
 realization of Jack's peril. That he would kill the 
 mastiff was certain ; but an abrasion of the skin, 
 the puncture of a single blood-vessel, and his own 
 fate was sealed. 
 
 I carried my little daughter into the house, and 
 hurriedly returned. It was nearly over. Even the 
 ferocity of madness was forced to give way before 
 the sturdy strength and coolness of my Jack. As he 
 saw his work was done, he released his hold, and 
 turned with a pleased, even joyous, expression toward 
 me. I instinctively shrank from him, and he saw 
 the movement. His joyousness vanished, and he 
 looked longingly for my favor. My heart was too 
 full to speak. I motioned him after me, and went 
 to the stable. There I found my tongue, and 'gave 
 Jack the praise that he felt his due. A thorough 
 bath restored him to his white and pure color. Then 
 I began to search for injuries. I failed to find them ; 
 but on one ear I detected a slight wound nothing 
 more. I sent at once for our family physician, had 
 it cauterized, and hoped against hope that Jack had
 
 60 Gentleman Jack 
 
 received no injury. But his fine sensibilities detected 
 my anxiety and seriousness, and he seemed to wonder 
 at it. Poor fellow ! how hard he tried to amuse and 
 divert me ! The ordinary forms of sport were 
 attempted, and then he invented new diversions. At 
 one time he would try a species of ' sleight of hand ' 
 by throwing a bone in the air and apparently catching 
 it in his mouth as it came down, but in reality 
 thrusting it under his blanket so quickly I could 
 scarcely detect the movement. This seemed to give 
 him much amusement, and I laughed heartily over 
 it. But my very anxiety made me serious, and much 
 of my time was spent in observing him. And yet 
 his happy nature seemed to be unchanged. Surely, I 
 thought, the seeds of evil could not be germinating 
 in his blood. 
 
 But one day I detected a change. His bright 
 eyes had grown listless, and his active body seemed 
 to take on unwonted languor. He became morose, 
 and unmindful of things about him. Occasionally 
 he would start at the sound of my voice, and I 
 would catch a momentary glimpse of the old nature ; 
 but it would soon vanish, like the sun behind a
 
 Gentleman Jack 61 
 
 cloud. The next day he grew worse, and I heard 
 him muttering to himself, though gently, as if his 
 better nature were pleading with the horrible demon 
 that was growing stronger every hour. I knew the 
 worst was true ; but my heart rebelled against the 
 sacrifice that seemed inevitable. I was unreconciled 
 that an act of such courage and devotion as his 
 should lead to such unjust reward. Here was a 
 creature of a despised race, a race kicked by men, 
 persecuted by boys, and kept down by the worst 
 passions of which human brutes are capable, and 
 yet living a life of purity, nobility, devotion, and 
 sacrifice. Here was a dumb creature, superior in 
 mental and moral life to many men in high social 
 circles. No duplicity, no profiting by undue advan- 
 tage, no lapses, nothing ignoble, dishonest, or dis- 
 honorable, could at any time be charged against him. 
 Now he was surrendering his life for having saved 
 another's. When mankind fully realize the quiet 
 devotion even under abuse, the sacrifice in spite of 
 neglect, which our dumb friends constantly endure 
 for us, it will be a happy day, for it will indeed 
 make men more merciful.
 
 62 Gentleman Jack 
 
 I went into the house and brought my wife and 
 little girl to where Jack was lying. I took the child 
 in my arms, and, bending down over him, told her 
 to call his name. At the first sound of her baby 
 voice, Jack opened his eyes quickly, with an expres- 
 sion of intense pain, which vanished the moment he 
 saw who had spoken. A sense of happiness seemed 
 to possess him ; he raised one paw with a resump- 
 tion of his former dignity, bowed gracefully, and 
 wagged his tail. Then he looked at me beseech- 
 ingly, as if pleading to be delivered from the strange 
 oppression that was stealing over him, cast another 
 glance of love at my child, and the film of forget- 
 fulness again came over his eyes. I could not 
 restrain my tears, and we returned to the house as 
 from a funeral. A few minutes thereafter, chloro- 
 form had done its work, and Gentleman Jack was 
 no more. 
 
 Is it barbarity that causes the Indian to long to 
 meet his horse and dog in the happy hunting-ground ? 
 Is it not rather love and mercy ? Is it barbarity 
 that causes me to long for another meeting with the 
 pure spirit that animated my friend Jack ? the
 
 Gentleman Jack 63 
 
 noble spirit which was temporarily extinguished that 
 my child's life might be prolonged ? 
 
 In the sunniest corner of our garden is a flower 
 bed, carefully rounded and tenderly kept. It is bor- 
 dered by forget-me-nots ; while in its centre white 
 carnations, arranged to form the single word 'JACK,' 
 bloom through their season. But whether the flowers 
 of summer or the snows of winter lie above that 
 mound, they are a constant emblem of the white 
 body and pure spirit of my dear departed friend, 
 GENTLEMAN JACK.
 
 UNION SQUARE JIM
 
 UNION SQUARE JIM. 
 
 'N a snug little corner of an 
 unused dressing-room at the 
 Union Square Theatre, New 
 York City, a bright and quiet 
 brindle cat had made her bed. 
 She had been in the theatre 
 less than a year ; and while 
 efficient as a hunter, and a 
 favorite with all the employees 
 by reason of her gentle ways, 
 she was seldom seen in the corridors. It was not 
 surprising, therefore, that she had not been missed 
 for several days, when accidentally George, the 4 gas- 
 man,' in going near her nest, heard the plaintive 
 cry of young kittens. He immediately entered the 
 old dressing-room, and found five little youngsters 
 battling each other for the favors and attention of 
 their mother. 
 
 Poor pussy had been without food since the birth 
 of her children, and the appealing look she gave
 
 68 Union Square Jim 
 
 George, as he bent down over her nest, touched him. 
 Every day thereafter she was well cared for ; but her 
 motherly solicitude and office kept her thin, and she 
 seemed little more than the shadow of her former 
 self. It was more than a week before she ventured 
 to leave her little family, and then, as she drew her 
 gaunt form through the hall about the dressing-rooms, 
 she seemed an object of pity. As she was returning 
 to her charge, she chanced to meet in the passage 
 one of the actors in the 4 All Star ' Combination. 
 She tried to draw to one side, but was so weak 
 she could only do so slowly. The frowning actor 
 was just going upon the stage, and, catching sight of 
 the shrinking creature before him, and under some 
 strange impulse of brutish anger, he lifted his foot 
 and threw her heavily to one side. She fell against 
 the wall, and, too weak to cry out, sank down 
 motionless in the corridor. She was found in that 
 position about fifteen minutes later, mewing plaint- 
 ively to herself and rolling upon the matting in pain. 
 George was sent for, but his duties behind the cur- 
 tain just then required all his attention. When the 
 final curtain had been rung down, he hurried to the
 
 Union Square Jim 69 
 
 dressing-room where the gentle creature had been 
 taken, and sought in his unskilled but kindly way 
 to ascertain the nature of her injury. It needed little 
 time to see that she was badly hurt. Several ribs 
 were broken, and there were probably other injuries. 
 George tried to dress the hurt and make the poor 
 creature comfortable, although he felt there was little 
 hope in the undertaking. For four days Roxey lay 
 upon her bed, suffering constantly, but trying to 
 impart life to her crying kittens. On the afternoon 
 of the fifth day, it was evident that poor Roxey could 
 not live much longer. George had seriously thought 
 of ending her misery ; but that meant death to the 
 kittens also, and the kind-hearted fellow could not 
 bring himself to do it. The faithful mother tenderly 
 washed all of her little family, one by one ; then she 
 drew them all about her as if for a last embrace, and 
 passed away as quietly and gently as she had lived. 
 George drew his rough hand across his face, and, 
 tenderly lifting Roxey, had her taken away. 
 
 ' But what can we do with these kittens ? ' he 
 asked of Frank, his assistant. 
 
 4 Let 's try and raise them,' said the generous
 
 ;o Union Square Jim 
 
 young man, though he had little notion how it was 
 to be done. 
 
 The devices resorted to by these willing fellows 
 were numerous and ingenious ; but they saw the 
 little survivors, one by one, pine away and finally 
 die, until but a single one remained. He was a 
 diminutive dun specimen, looking in many respects 
 like a fine sponge. Apparently he had been the 
 weakest of the family ; yet he alone survived. The 
 two friends watched him carefully. His little mouth 
 was always in motion when he was awake, either 
 mewing gently or trying to take the food George 
 offered him. It was interesting to watch the process 
 of feeding to which he was subjected, and for days 
 it seemed as if he must die. But finally he began 
 to rallv, then to thrive, and in a short time he was 
 as bright and mischievous a kitten as one would wish 
 to see. 
 
 Poor little Jim (he had early been christened by 
 that name) knew nothing of the companionship of 
 his kind. If he had a memory, it did not reach 
 back to the dark days before his eyes were open, 
 when he could not even see his suffering mother.
 
 Union Square Jim 71 
 
 The only beings he saw or knew were George and 
 Frank, and he naturally looked up to them as his 
 god-parents. And well did they fill the office. It 
 seemed to be their special amusement to plan for 
 little Jim, to teach him tricks, and, in general, to 
 educate him properly. At first he was too full of 
 life and far too frisky to grasp the meaning of any- 
 thing but play. Tricks to him were only another 
 form of frolic. Nothing was too large or too small 
 for him to play with. A huge old rocking-chair, 
 with its ponderous motion, was a delight to him ; 
 while a feather sailing across the floor simply set 
 him wild with glee. George purchased a little 
 rubber ball, and it was kept pretty busy most of 
 the time bounding away from the kitten's active 
 paws. The student of grace can find no better 
 teacher than a young kitten. Every act is natural, 
 each movement is the c poetry of motion.' Such 
 grace and such life can only come from the perfec- 
 tion of animal happiness. 
 
 But few kittens had such surroundings or such 
 trainers as had Jim. Thrown only in contact with 
 George and Frank, he instinctively studied their
 
 72 Union Square Jim 
 
 ways, and very soon became an intelligent and most 
 promising little animal. He learned to stand erect, 
 to walk on his hind feet, and to chase his tail vigor- 
 ously. He quickly understood all the commands of 
 his masters, and usually obeyed them promptly, 
 although the little fellow had a mind and a will of 
 his own which were quite comical in so small a 
 body. And so Jim grew without the sight of any 
 other animal, his only ideas of life being drawn from 
 his dressing-room abode and from the occasional 
 visits of George and Frank. 
 
 One day the stage men decided to show him 
 a mouse. They accordingly captured one, and, 
 taking it into Jim's domain, set it loose. At sight 
 of it Jim's eyes dilated, first with surprise and then 
 with joy. He came up to the little creature with 
 an evident desire to play. The mouse ran, and Jim 
 instantly seized it. In doing so, however, the mouse 
 succeeded in pinching Jim's nose, and the surprise 
 and pain caused a complete stoppage of the perform- 
 ance. There seemed to be no malice in Jim's ad- 
 vances, simply the spirit of play which had always 
 characterized him.
 
 Union Square Jim 73 
 
 It was not long after the above episode when 
 Jim began to explore the new world around him. 
 The dingy passages in the theatre and under the 
 stage were his entire concept of the world ; and he 
 soon adapted himself to his surroundings in a way 
 satisfactory to himself, if not to everybody around 
 him. Naturally he became a night cat. The dim 
 theatre was shut up during the day, but at night all 
 was life and brightness. Jim would wander about 
 the place, looking at the curious actions of those 
 upon the stage, and making himself perfectly at home 
 everywhere. Then, when the curtain was rung 
 down, the large crowd dispersed, and the gas turned 
 out, he would attach himself to the night watchman 
 and accompany him on his rounds during the long 
 hours of the night. 
 
 During the greater part of the day he slept. 
 Sometimes his fancy took him away from the aban- 
 doned dressing-room, and then he would select such 
 place as his caprices prompted. Very often this was 
 the green cloth upon one of the desks in the business 
 office. He was always permitted to occupy this ;
 
 74 Union Square Jim 
 
 but on one occasion a brutal ' advance agent,' who 
 saw him there, rudely seized him and threw him vio- 
 lently to the floor. No one happened to be present 
 except a call-boy, but he instantly ran to George 
 and reported the outrage. Naturally one of the most 
 peaceable of men, George became furious, and rushed 
 to the office. He found the 'advance agent ' quietly 
 writing, while Jim was creeping uneasily up and 
 down, eyeing the writer suspiciously. As soon as 
 Jim saw his friend he manifested the greatest delight. 
 He rubbed against his legs, purred loudly, and 
 showed how happy he felt at the arrival of reinforce- 
 ments. George carefully examined -Jim to see if 
 any bones had been broken. Then he turned to 
 the young man. 
 
 'I hear you threw Jim off'n that table; is it 
 so ? ' he demanded. 
 
 The agent looked up in astonishment. 
 
 ' I found the infernal cat asleep here where I 
 wanted to write, and I put him down.' 
 
 4 Did you throw him down ? ' 
 
 4 Well, yes, I dropped him.'
 
 Union Square Jim 75 
 
 1 You 're a nice one, you are. For two cents 
 I 'd drop you the same way.' 
 
 1 You would ? ' 
 
 'Yes, I would.' 
 
 4 Go along and tend to your gas, and do n't 
 talk ' 
 
 But the sentence was never finished. A pugil- 
 istic encounter of some magnitude took place ; and 
 when at last the harsh c advance agent,' between 
 gasps, admitted he had done wrong and would not 
 do so again, he was allowed to rise. News of the 
 encounter spread through the theatre, and soon 
 reached the ears of the manager. He at once insti- 
 tuted an inquiry ; but when he heard that the cause 
 of the fracas had been abuse of Jim, he not only did 
 not discharge his employee, but gave the advance 
 agent a sound lecture on cruelty to animals. 
 
 It was perhaps an outgrowth of this engagement 
 that caused George to instruct Jim in the mysteries 
 of pugilism. It was a difficult training, but at last 
 it was successful. At the word of command, Jim 
 would back into a corner, stand erect, and put up 
 his paws in the proper pugilistic attitude. Then
 
 76 Union Square Jim 
 
 George would place himself in front of him and aim 
 a pretended blow at his head. This blow Jim would 
 ward off with the quickness and skill of a boxer, and 
 immediately strike a spirited blow in return. The 
 sport would sometimes continue for many minutes, 
 and was the source of great amusement to all 
 lookers-on. 
 
 It was surprising what a home body Jim proved 
 to be. He was born, and literally lived, in the 
 theatre. His associates were men and women ; and 
 he studied their ways. Is it any wonder this had its 
 effect upon his life and character ? One of the 
 duties which George performed was to go through 
 every part of the theatre, from cellar to roof, once 
 each day. Jim usually accompanied him. Whether 
 it was through the dim corridors of the basement 
 where scenery was stored and the close air was filled 
 with damp odors, or up about the roof where the 
 sunlight came streaming in, the two friends would 
 go together, usually in the best of moods. 
 
 One afternoon during the summer a heavy 
 shower arose, and one of the skylights on the roof 
 sprung a leak. George went out upon the roof
 
 Union Square Jim 77 
 
 to fix it; and Jim went with him. The defect- 
 ive place was small, and it required little work to 
 repair it. While George was engaged in this labor, 
 Jim went roaming about the housetop. It was a 
 pleasant vacation for him, and he was evidently dis- 
 posed to make the most of it. George was busily 
 engaged with his repairs, when he heard a sudden 
 crash, and looking up quickly he saw Jim, who had 
 crept across a skylight, catching frantically at the 
 framework, while the insecure glass broke beneath 
 him. The plucky animal caught the frame with 
 one paw, but could not hold on, and then, before 
 George's eyes, Jim sank from sight and fell down 
 to the auditorium below. 
 
 George knew at once where he would land. 
 The skylight was directly over the centre of the 
 parquet, and a clean fall of fully eighty feet was 
 inevitable. Then George thought of those long 
 rows of patent iron-backed chairs. What if Jim 
 should strike the back of one of them ! Poor Jim ! 
 
 George hurried down stairs. He rushed into the 
 parquet, calling Jim's name as he ran. The day- 
 light was too dim in the silent theatre to show him
 
 78 Union Square Jim 
 
 where the unfortunate animal lay. He struck a 
 match and looked. There lay the poor fellow quite 
 motionless. His form was stretched between two 
 rows of seats ; but whether or not he had fallen 
 against their hard frames, George was unable to tell. 
 He lifted the limp body and hurried with it to his 
 room. There were no signs of life. He felt of the 
 body carefully, but could not tell whether any bones 
 were broken. He bathed Jim's head in alcohol and 
 laid him gently upon a cushioned chair. Pretty soon 
 Frank came in and asked what was the matter. 
 George explained as well as he could, though his 
 voice was shaken as he spoke. 
 
 1 Poor Jim ! ' said he. ' He 's done for, I guess. 
 He was a good mascot for me, but he could n't be 
 one for himself. Well,' he continued, wiping his 
 eyes, ' we 've all got to go sometime, and I hope 
 we '11 all be as well prepared as he was. I never 
 knew him to do a mean or a wicked thing. He 's 
 been with me ever since he was born, and his record 
 is a white one. I 've been mad lots of times ; I 've 
 sworn and been uneasy when things did n't go to 
 suit me. But I '11 say this : I never saw Jim mad
 
 Union Square Jim 79 
 
 or ugly or cross. I 'm no moralizer, and I do n't 
 know any too much about religion ; but I know 
 facts when I see them, and I know that no man or 
 woman who 's ever been around this theatre has ever 
 been so good as poor Jim. I do n't say it 's morality : 
 I do n't call it character, but I do know it's goodness. 
 It makes no difference how it got there, it 's there ; 
 and if one-half the men and women were anywhere 
 near as good as Jim, this would be a pretty good 
 world. Poor Jim ! I know I 'm a good deal better 
 man for his influence. I ain't ashamed to own that 
 his life has been a good example for me. Many 's 
 the time I 've been tempted to swear, and Jim's 
 innocent blue eyes would come up before me and 
 choke the words on my lips. One day I remember 
 a drunken stage hand did something that made me 
 mad. I raised a monkey-wrench I happened to have 
 in my hand, and I believe I should have struck him 
 over the head ; but just then I saw Jim sitting over 
 in the corner, and looking at me so gently and 
 reproachfully that my hand just fell at my side. Oh, 
 there 's many things Jim has done for me, and 
 there 's lots of things he 's done for other folks around
 
 80 Union Square Jim 
 
 this theatre. I remember that little girl in the ballet 
 who looked so sad and friendless when she was 
 behind the scenes, though she smiled like an angel 
 when she was before the lights. I saw her reading 
 lots of little notes, and then stand thinking, thinking. 
 I remember how Jim came and rubbed against her 
 silk-covered ankles, and how she picked him up and 
 began to pet him. I noticed how still he was, and 
 how she held him all the time between the scenes. 
 Once I saw her crying very quietly, and then I saw 
 her bury her face in Jim's soft fur and hold it there 
 until she was called on the stage again. That night, 
 when she came out of the dressing-room with her 
 plain dress and worn cloak, her face looked very 
 determined, and I saw her march up to where Jim 
 stood. She picked him up, and her face grew tender 
 in a minute. She hugged him, and then put him 
 down and ran out of the stage entrance as fast as 
 her feet would carry her. I knew none of them 
 dudes would catch her, and they did n't. One night, 
 just before her engagement was over, she came and 
 said to me : " You do n't know how much I owe 
 this cat." " How so ? " says I. " I can 't explain,"
 
 Union Square Jim 81 
 
 says she, " but when a poor girl has n't any father, 
 or brothers, or sisters, or friends, and is poor, and 
 when she knows that all those who pretend to be 
 friends only do so because they have something in 
 view, it 's everything to find a real true, honest, and 
 noble friend that likes you for yourself alone, just 
 as I know Jim does me." I understood her then. 
 'Then there was old Mary, the sweeping woman. 
 What a fancy she took to Jim ! But he never would 
 go very near her. This seemed to puzzle the poor- 
 old woman, and I 've seen her try all kinds of things 
 to make friends with him. I remember she would 
 bring a piece of broiled fish wrapped up in a news- 
 paper, when she found out how much Jim liked 
 fish, and he would eat it all right, but would never 
 stay near her. One day I saw her sitting and think- 
 ing all alone by herself. I wondered what she was 
 puzzling over. Finally I saw her slap her knee and 
 say, "That's it. It's me breath the cat don't like. 
 Well, I don't blame him, that I don't." In a few 
 days I noticed her face did n't seem so red, and in 
 a few more days it had a clear healthy color. Then 
 I saw she had on a nice clean apron, though she 
 
 6
 
 82 Union Square Jim 
 
 never wore one before. And in a few days I saw 
 Jim sitting in her lap, his eyes partly closed, happy 
 and contented ; and such a smile of satisfaction as 
 Mary had on her face it would be hard to find 
 again. Yes, Jim cured her of the gin habit, and I 
 know it. Somehow I do n't see why such hard luck 
 should come to so good a fellow. If it had been 
 one of these low, cruel chaps, like Shifty, who 
 started to kick you once, but caught my eye in time, 
 it would be nothing but right ; but here you are 
 laid out, you who never did a bad thing in all 
 your life.' 
 
 Just then Jim opened his eyes. There was a 
 lack of lustre in them, but he recognized George. 
 
 ' Poor old Jim ! how is it, old fellow ? ' George 
 said ; but Jim closed his eyes again and relapsed 
 into unconsciousness. 
 
 It was two weeks before Jim recovered, and 
 when he did there were no traces of the terrible 
 plunge which he had taken. 
 
 But a sad day came to the Union Square. One 
 fatal noon the theatre took fire. What it was that 
 caused it, no one could tell ; but the smoke rolled
 
 Union Square Jim 83 
 
 out in great volumes, and the place seemed doomed. 
 The firemen rushed into the auditorium, and while 
 in the gallery a portion of the structure fell, carrying 
 several of the brave men down with it. Water was 
 poured in, and finally the flames were under control. 
 But still the deluge went on, completing the ruin 
 the flames had begun. Expensive dresses and ward- 
 robes were destroyed ; the beautiful interior was a 
 wreck ; the two destructive elements had done their 
 work. 
 
 1 Has anyone seen Jim ? ' 
 
 This was the inquiry of the night watchman, as 
 he came hurriedly on the scene. The faces of all 
 looked blank. There was a firm belief in the theatre 
 that Jim was a mascot, and that ill-luck could hardly 
 come if he were alive. 
 
 * Who will go with me to find him ? ' shouted 
 George. 
 
 ' I will,' said the foreman of the engine company 
 on duty. 
 
 Down through the dim corridors, where a lantern 
 gave only a ghastly light, the two men went. The 
 dressing-room door was finally reached, but it was
 
 84 Union Square Jim 
 
 closed. A few vigorous blows opened it, and the 
 water was found to be as high in the room as outside. 
 At first Jim was invisible ; but at length he was dis- 
 covered, perched upon a bracket, and very disconso- 
 late. George *gave a great shout, seized his pet, and 
 hurried back. An anxious crowd was awaiting him ; 
 and when he appeared triumphantly bearing Jim in 
 his arms, a shout arose that drowned even the noise 
 of the fire. 
 
 The terrible experience through which he passed 
 taught Jim what fire was. The engines never went 
 thundering by the theatre, on the way to some con- 
 flagration, without arousing him thoroughly. Any 
 sudden flaming of a gas-jet always caught his atten- 
 tion. He once sprang at a basin of red fire that 
 was being ignited in the wings. In fact, Jim became 
 a veritable fireman. This greatly amused George, 
 and all others about the theatre. When nothing 
 better was on hand, they would coax Jim into some 
 entrance which was closed during the day and light 
 a fuse in his presence. He would gravely watch the 
 match, start at sight of the hissing flame running 
 along the floor, and then leap frantically after it.
 
 Union Square Jim 85 
 
 So quick and vigorous were his movements that he 
 usually extinguished the flames before they had 
 burned to the end of the fuse, and he always did it 
 without so much as singeing his soft coat. 
 
 4 And so Jim has turned fireman, has he ? ' 
 laughed the genial manager. ' Well, I suppose we 
 might as well discharge our regular firemen now.' 
 
 Viewed in the light of subsequent events, this 
 seemed almost prophetic. 
 
 It was not easy for Jim to become habituated 
 to the new theatre. It lacked that dinginess and 
 those odors to which he had long been used. He 
 was provided with a fine dressing-room, but it did 
 not seem like home. As a result, he wandered 
 about the house still more. A popular actress was 
 just then at the theatre, and a mutual -admiration 
 society seemed to be organized between the lady and 
 the large and faithful cat. 
 
 From the early days of history, special magnetic 
 or psychic influences have been assigned to cats. 
 They have been called the companions of witches. 
 Special powers have been located in their bodies. A 
 cat's blood has been part of nearly every ancient
 
 86 Union Square Jim 
 
 fetish. Rubbing the back of a cat is a familiar way 
 of generating electricity. Cats have been said to 
 possess nine lives. But whether there is even a 
 foundation of truth in all these theories, it is certain 
 that a great, almost a mysterious, friendship arose 
 between Miss Blank, the actress, and Jim. The 
 luxurious fellow would lie curled up on her dressing 
 table, lazily watching her various movements from 
 the corners of his half-open eyes. This seemed to 
 please her. 
 
 c Do you think I shall make a " hit " to-night, 
 Jim ? ' she would inquire, looking into the depths of 
 his large eyes for a reply. Whatever that reply may 
 have been, it certainly seemed to satisfy the lady, for 
 she would go on the stage with a brighter smile and 
 more confidence than she possessed before. 
 
 Jim usually accompanied her to the wings, but 
 he was too well bred to venture outside that limit. 
 Once in his earlier days he had shown himself to 
 the public, and the effect had been both startling and 
 ludicrous. A would-be tragedian had rented the 
 theatre for a limited term, with the hope that his 
 metropolitan appearance would assist him in the
 
 Hurte i 
 n/iw/s
 
 \ir way 
 
 x.id tO 
 
 en a 
 
 . 
 ies, it is certain 
 
 , friendship arose 
 
 :id Jim. 
 
 , : ied up on her dressing 
 
 ,u> movements from 
 
 This seemed to 
 
 " Do vou think I shall make A l hit ' to-night, ji 
 DRAWING BY J. CARTER BKARD. 
 
 limit. 
 
 c had shown himself to 
 
 d been both startling and 
 
 had rented the 
 
 the hope that his 
 
 him in the
 
 Union Square Jim 87 
 
 provinces. His failure was a fixed fact, and the 
 result caused him to seek inspiration where far too 
 many others seek it. He had been ranting through 
 the part of Macbeth in a dazed way, when, turning 
 with the lines, ' Is this a dagger I see before me ? ' 
 he was confronted by the calm gaze of Jim, who 
 had quietly walked out upon the stage. At first he 
 thought the liquor was having a tragic effect, and 
 his tongue refused to move. The effect upon the 
 audience, however, was otherwise ; and the tragedy 
 became a roaring comedy. 
 
 The season of Miss Blank's engagement was 
 drawing to a close. Jim seemed to realize this, and 
 that good friends must soon part. He was seldom 
 away from the actress when she was in the theatre, 
 and he often tried in many ways to anticipate her 
 wishes. Her slippers were always in place beside 
 her chair, no matter where the maid might have left 
 them. Jim was a true and attentive friend. 
 
 Only two more nights remained of the season, 
 and the last act was called. Miss Blank left her 
 dressing-room, and went toward the wings, closely 
 followed by Jim. The good-natured fellow seemed
 
 88 Union Square Jim 
 
 to love to stand at the entrances and see the actions 
 of his friend upon the stage. During the entire 
 act Jim lay beside the prompter's box watching Miss 
 Blank's every movement. Laughter, tears, pleadings, 
 and denunciations did not affect him, for did he not 
 know it was ' all in the play ' ? The climax of the 
 act and of the play was reached, and the first bell for 
 the falling curtain rung. Miss Blank swept majestic- 
 ally before the footlights, emphasizing by every move- 
 ment her effect upon the audience. As she did so, 
 the delicate lace of her train touched one of the gas 
 jets. The thin- tissue blazed up quickly and the flame 
 ran along the bottom of the skirt. So absorbed were 
 actors and audience with the play that the accident 
 was not discovered, but the quick eyes of Jim saw 
 the first tiny flame. In spite of his training, forgetful 
 of everything at the sight of the fire, he sprang upon 
 the stage and pounced down upon the creeping fire 
 as he would upon a mouse. Right and left flew his 
 nimble paws. A tongue of flame that had fastened 
 upon a silk ruffle was extinguished by one sweep of 
 his little body. It singed the hair upon the poor 
 fellow's sides, but he never flinched for a second.
 
 Union Square Jim 89 
 
 He heard the frightened voice of his mistress, the 
 screams of the audience, and saw above his head the 
 heavy pole of the roller-curtain swiftly descending ; 
 but never for an instant did he stop or turn from 
 his duty. A chorus of voices rang in his ears. A 
 blaze of light flashed before his eyes. A crushing 
 load fell upon his prostrate body, and then all was 
 still. 
 
 The stillness was brief, and when poor Jim 
 opened his eyes the scene was such as the stage has 
 seldom witnessed. Upon the table of the gorgeous 
 stage parlor lay the singed and mangled body of the 
 faithful cat. Above him, her eyes overflowing with 
 tears, bent Miss Blank. Grouped about were the 
 entire company, their painted faces drawn with gen- 
 uine sympathy. George, Frank, and all the stage 
 hands stood in solemn silence, every now and then 
 drawing their hands across their faces. A call-boy 
 had brought a physician. He came and gravely 
 examined the quiet creature there before him. Some 
 prominent people who had occupied a box came 
 behind the curtain and stood watching the scene with 
 intense interest. The doctor shook his head.
 
 90 Union Square Jim 
 
 * Fracture of the spine,' he said, ' and his nine 
 lives will not save him.' 
 
 Miss Blank could contain herself no longer. 
 She buried her face in her hands and sobbed convul- 
 sively. Suddenly a hush came over the group, while, 
 clear and distinct, the purrings of the gentle creature 
 were heard, as if accidents and death were things 
 unknown, and friendship alone was immortal. Jim 
 lifted his poor head and sought to lick Miss Blank's 
 hand, but it fell helplessly upon the table. He tried 
 to acknowledge her kind caresses, but his failing 
 strength would not permit. 
 
 And there, upon the stage, a tragedy of real life 
 and death was enacted. A gentle and loving spirit, 
 that had endeared itself to all, was extinguished, and 
 a tender emotion was left in every heart there 
 present, however hardened or insincere. A nobler 
 purpose of kindness to all dependent creatures in- 
 stinctively came to all. But outside the theatre, in 
 real life, car drivers were tearing their horses' tender 
 mouths with brutal harshness, cabmen were swearing 
 at and beating the faithful creatures upon whom they
 
 Union Square Jim 91 
 
 depended for their livelihood, and dogs, cats, and 
 other gentle domestic animals, were suffering abuse, 
 brutal men were scolding, cursing, and whipping their 
 helpless wives and children, while all about was a 
 world of beauty, and above a God of love.
 
 MY FRIEND THE ELEPHANT
 
 MY FRIEND THE ELEPHANT. 
 
 T was Saturday afternoon 
 in London, one of those 
 beautiful July days which 
 the climate of England 
 renders so perfect. If any 
 unoccupied persons failed 
 to take advantage of the 
 beauty of the day by com- 
 ing out of doors, they 
 must have been invalids 
 or misanthropes. The parks were thronged, the Zo- 
 ological Gardens were crowded, and the beautiful play- 
 grounds adjoining were filled with merry cricketers, 
 athletes, and sightseers. The joyousness of the day 
 seemed contagious, and I found myself driving toward 
 the suburbs with no more definite purpose than to 
 enjoy fully the inspiring air and the pleasant natural sur- 
 roundings. In fact, I had scarcely realized in what por- 
 tion of the great metropolis I was, until, looking across
 
 96 My Friend the Elephant 
 
 a broad open space, I saw the extensive grounds of 
 the Zoological Garden. 
 
 The very thing, I said to myself; nothing could 
 be more pleasing or appropriate. And so I soon 
 found myself within the enclosure, and surrounded, 
 of course, by animals of every description, including 
 those of the human species. What a sight it was ! 
 There were birds of all sizes and varieties, and beasts 
 from the jungles, the icebergs, and the mountains. 
 Indeed, the Oriental collection called to my mind 
 the descriptions of the days of Solomon, with the 
 1 ivory, and apes, and peacocks.' There was the 
 usual motley throng about the cage of the mon- 
 keys ; the sea-lions came in for their full share of 
 wonderment and admiration, while the other lions 
 held the attention of an awe-inspired crowd such as 
 invariably gather about their cage. 
 
 It was while viewing these familiar but interest- 
 ing sights that I heard the merry shouts of children 
 in the distance ; and, attracted as I always am by 
 such music, I strolled in the direction from which 
 the sounds had come. Presently I came upon them. 
 A merry rollicking lot of children were riding upon
 
 mt 
 
 -1 by 
 
 : Arable 
 
 :.'. ele- 
 
 n. He 
 
 S long 
 
 FROM PHOTOGRAPH BY UIXON, LONDON. 
 charge 
 
 It, and 
 
 : , how- 
 
 uething 
 
 ne that 
 
 , that 
 
 .en, and 
 
 phants in the 
 
 horn India 
 
 i ventured to 
 
 ..<xi there so quietly j
 
 My Friend the Elephant 97 
 
 the back of a monster elephant, who was apparently 
 as delighted over the novel sensation as he was proud 
 in his responsibility. I watched the performance 
 for some time ; saw the little band descend from the 
 elephant's back, and their places quickly filled by 
 other eager children ; while all the time the elephant 
 seemed to be fully conscious of his duty and proud 
 of his part in the entertainment. 
 
 After watching the performance for a considerable 
 time, I ventured to approach the keeper of the ele- 
 phant and enter into conversation with him. He 
 seemed very reticent, and I could see that his long 
 association with the dumb animal he had in charge 
 had produced an effect upon the man himself, and 
 upon his conversational powers. I managed, how- 
 ever, to draw him out somewhat and learn something 
 about the animal he was handling. He told me that 
 he and the elephant were the best of friends ; that 
 the animal was good natured, loved children, and 
 was much attached to several other elephants in the 
 garden, especially to a diminutive animal from India 
 that they called the c Baby Elephant.' I ventured to 
 speak to the huge animal who stood there so quietly;
 
 98 My Friend the Elephant 
 
 and when he extended his trunk toward me in a 
 friendly manner, I looked upon it as a recognition 
 of a formal introduction, and shook it quite cordially. 
 He seemed to understand my action, and passed the 
 delicate jelly-like membrane at the mouth of his 
 trunk over my hand, as if trying to learn more defi- 
 nitely what sort of a person I might be. I was 
 rather interested to know what his conclusions were; 
 but he did not make them known, contenting 
 himself by quietly holding my hand and looking at 
 me with what seemed to be several very merry 
 twinkles in his eye. 
 
 The children who had been riding upon the ele- 
 phant were mostly sons and daughters of the rich 
 or well-to-do ; many of them were in charge of 
 nurses or guardians, while others were accompanied 
 by their parents, who paid the slight fee required 
 for the ride. Away at one side, however, I caught 
 a glimpse of a little gathering of urchins who, by 
 their appearance, I could readily see were children 
 of the poor. They were watching the merry-making 
 of the other children with eager, almost hungry eyes, 
 as they might have gazed into a pastry cook's window
 
 My Friend the Elephant 99 
 
 at the delicacies they could not hope to enjoy. It 
 occurred to me that it might not be a bad idea to 
 organize a little excursion party out of this group, 
 and give them a ride upon the elephant's back. I 
 spoke to the keeper about it, and, a little to my sur- 
 prise, he not only consented, but seemed to be very 
 glad to do so. I wish my readers could have seen 
 the expressions upon the faces of the children when 
 I suggested my plan to them. Their eyes dilated, 
 smiles came over their faces, and it did not require 
 the eager words they uttered to show me that my 
 invitation was instantly accepted. And what a jolly 
 party they did make ! The new sensation of being 
 away up in the air, conveyed by the huge animal 
 upon whom they looked with awe, made their cheeks 
 flush and their eyes sparkle with pleasure and excite- 
 ment. Poor little things, how they did enjoy it ! 
 
 But what attracted my attention even more was 
 the fact that the elephant himself seemed to under- 
 stand the little party perfectly, and seemed especially 
 glad to have them on his back. I walked along 
 beside him while the children were having their ride, 
 and he wound his trunk about my hand in a par-
 
 ioo My Friend the Elephant 
 
 ticularly confidential manner, as though he quite 
 understood that I was responsible for the jolly little 
 excursion, and highly approved of the enterprise. In 
 this charming manner the afternoon wore away, and 
 I returned to the city pleased and refreshed by the 
 little outing. 
 
 The Zoological Garden had a special attraction 
 for me thereafter. Whenever I had leisure for an 
 hour or two, I was pretty certain to drive out and 
 have a little visit with my new friend the elephant. 
 I usually took a little present, in the form of some 
 dainty bit of food, along with me ; and I was always 
 sure of a good welcome. One day he showed me 
 a special mark of confidence. It was while I was 
 walking by his side and we were visiting together in 
 the manner which we both quite understood, that 
 we met another large elephant, also engaged in the 
 transportation business. My huge friend stopped, 
 and the other elephant also paused with a look of 
 inquiry upon her face. Quietly but swiftly a trunk 
 was extended, which seized the other trunk in its 
 grasp and carried it unerringly to my hand. Of 
 course I acknowledged the salutation cordially, and
 
 My Friend the Elephant 101 
 
 could see that the big fellow was very much pleased 
 at the outcome of his introduction. I felt the deli- 
 cate tissues of the trunk of my new acquaintance 
 wandering about my hand, while the eyes of its owner 
 watched me most intently. And so my circle of 
 friends was increased by one more. 
 
 But the time drew near when I was to return to 
 America, and the day before sailing I visited the 
 4 Zoo ' to bid my two huge friends good-bye. I 
 tried to make them understand that I was taking 
 leave of them, and it was pleasant to me to think 
 they understood and regretted my departure. 
 
 More than two years passed ; and while I had 
 not forgotten the strange acquaintances I had made 
 in London, I must confess that thoughts of them 
 very rarely entered my mind. I knew that elephants 
 were very long-lived creatures, and when I thought 
 of them at all I fancied them as alive and well, and 
 attending to the very satisfactory duties in which I 
 had last seen them engaged. But I heard nothing 
 of them. One day in looking over the paper I saw 
 the announcement that Mr. P. T. Barnum had 
 arranged to bring ' the largest elephant in the world '
 
 io2 My Friend the Elephant 
 
 to America for exhibition purposes. I remember 
 wondering if he would be able to find a larger speci- 
 men than my friend of the Zoological Garden, when, 
 upon reading farther, I learned that this was the very 
 animal he had purchased and proposed bringing to 
 America. Then came the discussion in the press 
 about the 'uprising of the people of London ' against 
 allowing that magnificent elephant to leave the coun- 
 try. Many young men remembered how they had 
 ridden upon his back when they were children, and 
 he was such a universal favorite that the excitement 
 in London assumed quite extended proportions. Of 
 course Mr. Barnum fanned this flame for advertising 
 purposes ; and it finally became so strong that an 
 Act of Parliament was passed prohibiting any vessel 
 that carried passengers from transporting large ani- 
 mals. How Mr. Barnum evaded this by chartering 
 a special steamer, and how he succeeded in landing 
 the huge creature upon American shores, are matters 
 of history. 
 
 I was at the dock to see the grand old fellow 
 arrive, and to welcome him to a strange land. I 
 had serious doubts as to whether I should know him
 
 My Friend the Elephant 103 
 
 by sight ; and it never for a moment entered my 
 head that he could or would remember or recognize 
 me. Imagine my amazement, therefore, when, in 
 the midst of all the excitement of landing and the 
 strange surroundings, he recognized me the moment 
 our eyes met. That same wonderful trunk sought 
 my hand, and I felt the same cordial pressure he had 
 given it years before in London. I was decidedly 
 pleased, as I think anyone would have been under 
 the circumstances. It seemed very natural and nice 
 to see my huge friend again, and quite natural to see 
 Scott his keeper, and to find also that the l Baby 
 Elephant ' had been brought along, partly for exhibi- 
 tion purposes and partly to keep the big fellow 
 company. 
 
 I hardly need to recount in detail his career 
 thereafter, for c Jumbo ' was under the focus of 
 thousands of eyes every day during the remainder of 
 his life. How well he behaved himself under the 
 trying and tiring influences of an exhibition life, forced 
 to travel nights and be exhibited days, jolted over 
 rough roads in uneasy cars and paraded through the 
 streets of cities to be gazed at by the people, are
 
 104 My Friend the Elephant 
 
 matters that are known to nearly everybody. I saw 
 him occasionally, when chance or good fortune threw 
 me in his way, and many pleasant visits were the 
 result. Time would fail me for telling of the many 
 clever things he did. He revealed not only intelli- 
 gence of a high order, but reasoning powers beyond 
 those possessed by many men, a sturdy and honest 
 character, and an affectionate disposition. 
 
 I recall one memorable incident. It occurred 
 in Buffalo, where I was visiting. The afternoon 
 performance was over. Nearly every sightseer had 
 left the spacious tent ; but, being something of a 
 privileged character through my well-known acquaint- 
 ance and friendship with the big elephant, I strolled 
 into his quarters without question. He was calmly 
 consuming hay, twisting and tossing it about in the 
 most abandoned yet graceful manner. He ceased 
 both recreation and dinner as soon as I appeared, and 
 we were having the pleasantest possible time regard- 
 less of the visitors who were staring at us. It had 
 long been my custom to talk to him as I would to 
 any other friend, and I had learned to understand his 
 responses perfectly. In the midst of our conference
 
 My Friend the Elephant 105 
 
 there was a disturbance. I paid little heed to it, but 
 the screams of a few women and children soon com- 
 pelled my attention. Then I saw the attendants 
 rushing excitedly about, while a wild break in the 
 ranks of the visitors convinced me that something out 
 of the ordinary had occurred. It was not long before 
 I fully understood the cause of the excitement. Nero, 
 the largest of the lions, had in some manner escaped 
 from his cage. Ordinarily his recapture would have 
 been a simple matter ; but his keeper was not on the 
 spot, and the frenzied condition of the other guards, 
 as well as of the people, excited him, and caused the 
 kingly power in his blood, which had slumbered so 
 long, to become thoroughly aroused. Suddenly he 
 appeared just in front of us, his ears set closely to his 
 head, his eyes flashing, and his tail lashing furiously. 
 I was so fascinated by the sight that I failed, at first, 
 to see the object upon which his glaring eyes were 
 fixed. It was a small child. Deserted by his nurse, 
 paralyzed by fear, the little creature stood transfixed, 
 unable even to cry. His eyes were staring, as in a 
 vision, into the glaring orbs of the huge creature 
 before him. His little hands clutched convulsively
 
 106 My Friend the Elephant 
 
 a diminutive flag which the absconding nurse had 
 evidently given him. He seemed as helpless as a 
 bird under the influence of the charmed eyes of the 
 serpent. It was a supreme moment. Slowly and 
 stealthily, the lion crept on. His crimson tongue, 
 escaping from behind the white teeth, licked his red 
 lips as if in anticipation of his dreadful feast. His 
 claws were unsheathed, and he appeared the embodi- 
 ment of all that is rapacious, cruel, horrible. 
 
 I confess that I was as incapable of action as a 
 child. The situation had come so suddenly, so ter- 
 ribly, I could not collect my faculties ; and yet I 
 realized that in another instant a tragedy, too horrible 
 for description, would be enacted. But just at that 
 moment, something, I hardly realized what, shot out 
 above my head with marvellous quickness and force, 
 and the next instant the lion was rolling upon the 
 ground and roaring with rage and pain. In a second 
 more, I saw the same lithe weapon that had struck 
 the powerful blow wind, with the gentleness of a 
 woman's caress, about the body of the child, and in 
 another instant the little fellow was lifted swiftly, yet 
 carefully, and deposited safely upon the broad back

 
 His crimson ti> 
 e teeth, licked h 
 
 idful feast. His 
 id he appeared the embodi- 
 
 
 
 > ter- 
 'The next m>tam ,, UK- ^oumi/ 
 
 URAUIM. in \\ H.i II. ; 
 
 >tanta tr%ed\ , 
 
 on, would be enacted. 
 
 In a second 
 
 the weapon that had struck 
 
 ul, with the gentleness of a 
 
 he body of the child, and in 
 
 fellow was lifted swiftly, yet 
 
 ly upon the broad back
 
 My Friend the Elephant 107 
 
 of the huge and victorious elephant, where he was 
 easily held safe from all harm. While the lion was 
 doubly enraged, he was also cowed ; and in an ex- 
 ceedingly short space of time he was recaptured and 
 returned to his cage. It would be hard to tell who 
 were the most amazed people in that tent. The 
 keepers were distracted, the visitors crazed by fear, 
 while the child and myself were simply incapable of 
 action. But there was one creature as calm, as col- 
 lected, as clear-headed as any mortal man has ever 
 been under any trying circumstance, and that was 
 my old and doubly dear friend Jumbo. 
 
 I must pass other interesting incidents and come 
 to a tragic and never-to-be-forgotten night in my 
 life. I was in Hamilton, Ontario ; it happened to 
 be on the same day that the great circus arrived in 
 the town. The day had been spent quietly, and I 
 had prepared to take the train that left toward mid- 
 night. Suddenly it occurred to me that I had not 
 seen Jumbo, and that I would have an opportunity 
 to do so at his car which was in the railroad near 
 the station. So I drove to the station early, secured 
 my tickets and baggage checks, and then strolled out
 
 io8 My Friend the Elephant 
 
 into the yard. The apparent confusion common to 
 all freight -yards was increased by the extra work 
 incident to the handling of the circus train. Switch 
 engines were running to and fro, clanging their bells 
 and whistling piercingly. The swinging lanterns of 
 the switchmen, the rattling of car-wheels over the 
 switches, the shouts of the men from out the semi- 
 darkness, all made a scene of wild confusion and 
 fascination. I was too well versed in such matters 
 to walk along the track, and so chose a space be- 
 tween two tracks, which was in places very narrow. 
 Upon reaching the train I learned that the elephants 
 had not yet arrived. One of the men, however, 
 informed me they would be there very shortly. 
 
 1 To which entrance will they come ? ' I in- 
 quired. 
 
 They '11 have to come down the tracks,' he 
 replied. ' These yards are shut in so, they can 't 
 get to the train in any other way.' 
 
 ' But is not that a dangerous thing to do ? ' I 
 asked. 
 
 The man gave a shrug of indifference and said : 
 4 1 suppose so, but what are we to do ? The railroad
 
 My Friend the Elephant 109 
 
 company can 't change its yards to please a circus. 
 The animals will have to measure ties, that 's all.' 
 
 I realized at once that there were perils in that 
 yard, and, shall I confess it? felt an instinctive dread; 
 why, I cannot say, and have never since been able 
 to understand. 
 
 I started down between the tracks in the only 
 direction by which the animals could come, thinking 
 I might meet them. I had gone perhaps two hun- 
 dred yards, when I saw in the distance, lighted dimly 
 by lanterns, the huge rolling forms of the on-coming 
 elephants. How grand they looked ! The indis- 
 tinct light seemed to magnify their forms. As they 
 approached I seemed to be looking up at the far out- 
 line of a chain of mountains. On they came, Jumbo 
 in the lead, and walking with that majestic swinging 
 stride which always characterized him. I can see 
 him now, the grand fellow. How magnificent he 
 was ! And then I saw that he was guiding the baby 
 elephant, and along a path which the little fellow 
 did not seem to understand, but which Jumbo ap- 
 peared to know thoroughly. 
 
 I was so absorbed by the sight that I failed to
 
 no My Friend the Elephant 
 
 hear the clanging of a bell over to the left ; but, 
 suddenly roused, I perceived an engine that was bear- 
 ing down in my direction. I knew it would not 
 come upon me, but, following with my eye the 
 course of the switch, I saw it would take the 
 track on which the elephants were walking. I 
 shouted a warning. If the engineer heard me, he 
 gave no sign ; but Jumbo clearly heard my voice, 
 and I could see that he recognized me. Turning 
 his head, he saw the coming danger. There, upon 
 the track, directly before him, stood the baby ele- 
 phant. A short distance up the track was the re- 
 morseless engine, its brazen bell clanging angrily and 
 its headlight glaring like a huge evil eye. 
 
 If I should live to extreme old age, I can never 
 forget the scene. The grand old animal gave one 
 look around him, and then, as though his resolution 
 was taken quickly, thrust the baby elephant away 
 from all danger, and stood confronting the on-coming 
 engine. What a sight it was ! There stood the 
 highest type of animate power defying the inanimate 
 force of the mighty engine. There was no sign of 
 fear, not the slightest trace of flinching. He calmly
 
 My Friend the Elephant in 
 
 waited, confident both in his power and his duty 
 toward the weaker member of his race which he was 
 faithfully protecting. It is perhaps because I realized 
 so fully the fearful danger of poor Jumbo, that I re- 
 member this scene so distinctly. 
 
 Just as the engine was almost upon him, Jumbo 
 lowered his head and charged with all the power 
 within his ponderous body upon the murderous ma- 
 chine. The engine seemed to shudder, then came 
 to a sudden stop. The sleepy engineer, roused 
 by the shock, had reversed the lever but, alas! 
 too late. The impact had not thrown Jumbo from 
 the track, but I saw him reel, and knew the blow 
 had been mortal. In another instant I was by his 
 side. 
 
 4 My dear old fellow, are you hurt ? ' 1 exclaimed. 
 
 I saw a flash of recognition and intelligence come 
 into his eyes, but it was quickly dimmed by the blood 
 that trickled down his forehead. And then I saw 
 him reel again, and then, for the first time in his life, 
 fall. I threw myself beside him. I passed my hand 
 over his huge head, and felt the fracture which the 
 cruel blow had inflicted. I knew there was no hope,
 
 ii2 My Friend the Elephant 
 
 and yet I tried to cheer him. There he lay unflinch- 
 ingly, his eyes fast glazing and his quivering trunk 
 passing alternately to the little elephant, to Scott his 
 keeper, and myself. He was breathing hard, but not 
 another sound escaped his lips. The baby elephant 
 seemed dazed, Scott was crying, and the little crowd 
 about the prostrate body was speechless with awe and 
 terror. I do not know what I did. I only remem- 
 ber clasping in my hands that marvellous trunk 
 which, even in the dying hour, seemed instinct with 
 sentiment and affection. Gently it responded to my 
 frantic pressure, even while it shivered in its death 
 agonies. Fainter and fainter grew that grasp, and I 
 knew the life within was passing away as grandly and 
 gently as it had always lived. 
 
 Suddenly the majestic head was raised, the closed 
 eyes opened and earnestly gazed about. The noble 
 animal looked with pity at Scott, with wonder at the 
 gathering crowd, with tenderness at the baby, and, as 
 I sincerely believe, with love at me. My streaming 
 eyes were too dim to see clearly, but the expression 
 could not be mistaken. Slowly the head lowered, as
 
 My Friend the Elephant 113 
 
 if weary of life ; the clasping trunk ceased its pres- 
 sure upon my hand, and with a sigh that seemed 
 almost human the grand spirit had departed. And 
 with it ended one of the most sincere and charming 
 friendships of my life.
 
 SALLIE RUSSELL
 
 SALLIE RUSSELL. 
 
 EED, Missy Helen, de bay 
 mare done got a colt.' 
 
 Sam's eyes sparkled as 
 he said this, although he 
 was, usually, one of the 
 most stupid of his race. 
 
 By the average young 
 lady of to-day, such an an- 
 nouncement would probably 
 be received with contempt 
 or indifference; with Helen Beauford a Kentucky 
 girl born and bred it was an occasion of joy. 
 
 ' Bring me my hat directly, Mirandy,' she said. 
 4 1 must go to see the little thing.' 
 
 She was expecting to see a small colt, but was 
 wholly unprepared to find such a tiny creature as 
 she saw in the paddock. It seemed more like a 
 shadow than a reality. When it attempted to stand, 
 its limbs shook so that the effort seemed altogether 
 premature and hopeless. When it tried to walk,
 
 u8 Sallie Russell 
 
 after a few sidelong swayings, the attempt usually 
 ended by a fall to earth. The anxious mother 
 appeared to realize the feebleness of her offspring, 
 and plainly showed her longings for its safety in her 
 large earnest eyes. 
 
 The sight of so much weakness and helplessness 
 instantly aroused Helen's sympathies, and she resolved 
 to care for this little creature. But though, in com- 
 mon with all Kentucky girls, Helen was a lover of 
 horses and knew much about their management, she 
 found the task of caring for this little weakling a 
 difficult one. The servants on the place were kept 
 busy obeying her commands ; and fresh straw, warm 
 blankets, and hot milk were in brisk demand. All 
 that care could do was done ; and yet it seemed at 
 times that the little colt could not live. The interest 
 and solicitude displayed by the mother, while these 
 efforts were being made, were most touching. She 
 seemed to understand the gravity of the occasion, 
 and that kind friends were doing all in their power ; 
 but she never for a moment relaxed her attention. 
 She ate but little, and slept only occasionally. All 
 her thoughts were plainly settled upon her colt.
 
 Sallie Russell 119 
 
 But the care at last began to tell, and signs of 
 animation and even playfulness were shown by the 
 little creature. Its strength also increased ; and then 
 it began unmistakably to grow. And how it grew ! 
 It filled out the lines of beauty, showed well-rounded 
 muscles under its velvet coat, and Helen soon saw, 
 instead of a puny colt, a bright and vigorous filly. 
 
 It might be expected that a young animal that 
 had just awakened to the joys of life would in its 
 wild playfulness forget those around it. But it was 
 quite otherwise with the little filly. She knew Helen 
 was kind ; and however wild she might seem at 
 times, when life throbbed strongly within her, she 
 was always gentle the moment Helen's voice was 
 heard. Petting has been known to spoil a child, 
 but kindness was never known to injure a horse. 
 Indeed, when the word of command comes in strong 
 tones from the voice that has been kind, it is all the 
 more quickly obeyed. And so Helen and Sallie grew 
 together and became companions and firm friends. 
 It was Helen who first put a bit in Sallie's tender 
 mouth, who first mounted her, who took her through 
 the various steps until she became one of the finest
 
 izo Sallie Russell 
 
 saddle-horses in the region. And all this without the 
 least harshness or unkindness, but in a way that made 
 it a pleasure for both concerned. 
 
 But a bright and vivacious young lady can hardly 
 be expected to be wholly satisfied with the love of a 
 horse. It is all very well as far as it goes, and may 
 be a source, undoubtedly, of much genuine happi- 
 ness, but the happiness would be all the greater for 
 having someone to share it with her some agreeable 
 young man, for example. And the young man came 
 came unexpectedly and romantically; came riding a 
 fine horse to hounds; came limping up to the paddock 
 after putting a bullet through the brain of his noble 
 animal that had fallen and broken a leg on the high 
 stone wall just back of the meadow. Southern hospi- 
 tality made Helen courteous; something she could not 
 understand made her strangely shy. Perhaps it was 
 the earnest way in which the stranger looked at her; 
 perhaps it was the discovery of a hitherto unknown 
 realm in her nature. The liniments applied by the 
 stranger appeared to help him wonderfully, and yet he 
 seemed fearful of moving too much, and so accepted 
 an invitation to rest the remainder of the day. And
 
 Sallie Russell 121 
 
 then his friends returned from the hunt, and took 
 him away in one of the Beauford carriages loaned 
 for the occasion, which Helen very well knew would 
 be returned by the sufferer in person. It was the 
 old story with a new cover, and a very interesting 
 one it proved to Helen Beauford and Ashley 
 Hamilton. 
 
 The events above described occurred in Ken- 
 tucky during the years 1860 and 1861. They were 
 of absorbing interest to those who were taking part 
 in them, but certain events of a national character 
 were transpiring which were of far greater import- 
 ance. War has no respect for lovers ; indeed, it 
 seems to take a fiendish delight in troubling them. 
 Hamilton was brave, and an ardent patriot ; Helen, 
 too, was brave, but trembled at the thought of her 
 lover going to the war. Meanwhile Hamilton had 
 raised a company of cavalry, placed himself at the 
 head of it, and offered his services to the Federal 
 Government. They were accepted. During the 
 last interview between Helen and Hamilton, the 
 brave girl tried to appear calm ; but, alas! feminine 
 tears flowed freely.
 
 122 Sallie Russell 
 
 1 There is one thing I wish you to do, Ashley,' 
 she said, between her sobs. ' Take Sallie with you. 
 I shall miss her, I know, and the army is a fearful 
 place for a creature such as she is ; but I shall feel 
 that you are safer if she is carrying you. Now, dear, 
 do n't refuse ; I have made up my mind to the sac- 
 rifice.' 
 
 And so Helen's two best friends left her. They 
 were both inexperienced in the rough field of war, 
 but they both possessed the best blood in the state. 
 It was game blood the blood that enables its pos- 
 sessor to endure hardships uncomplainingly, to face 
 disaster and possible death unflinchingly. And thus 
 they entered together upon their new and untried life. 
 It is a terrible life, but it has its pleasant features. 
 Drills, parades, inspections, occasional scouting expe- 
 ditions, are all agreeable to young and vigorous blood. 
 But after that came days of hardship, nights of lone- 
 liness, hard marches, discouraging reverses, stubborn 
 battles, sickness and death around, and misery and 
 desolation on every hand. 
 
 It was in one of the minor battles in which 
 Ashley was engaged that a flying ball struck Sallie
 
 Sallie Russell 123 
 
 in the fleshy part of the neck. It was a painful 
 wound, and annoyed her exceedingly ; but she seemed 
 to know what it was, and submitted quietly to the 
 dressing it required. However attached the filly 
 may have been to Ashley before, she was still more 
 devoted to him now, after being relieved of her pain 
 and restored again to health. As for Ashley, she 
 proved more and more dear to him, constantly re- 
 minding him of Helen, and furnishing him compan- 
 ionship at all times. Sallie developed and improved 
 finely under the careful training which Ashley gave 
 her, growing stronger with the vigorous exercise she 
 received each day. And yet she never seemed quite 
 adapted to army life. Her royal blood fitted her 
 more for speed and action in peace than for the 
 rough work of war. But however distasteful army 
 life may have been, she never flinched and never 
 failed to do the best in her power whenever Ashley 
 called on her. 
 
 One night orders came to be ready at daybreak ; 
 and when the gray light of the morning had faded 
 into yellow, a battle was raging in all its fury. 
 
 Poor fellow ! his fate came at last, in the form
 
 124 Sallie Russell 
 
 of a heavy murderous bullet. His uplifted arm fell 
 helplessly by his side, he caught frantically at the 
 reins, and then fell over the side of the mare to the 
 ground. The bugle could not have checked Sallie 
 quicker than the fall of her master. She set her 
 forefeet firmly in the ground and stood immovable as 
 a rock by his side. Meanwhile the tide of the furi- 
 ous battle had swept on, carrying with it friend and 
 foe alike, and leaving few dead or wounded near the 
 desolate spot where Ashley had fallen, unconscious 
 and almost lifeless. When he revived, the first sight 
 that met his gaze was the intelligent face of his horse 
 looking down upon him with an anxious, earnest, 
 and gentle expression. Human friends may forget, 
 foes will be unpitying, but a devoted animal is stead- 
 fast. Its life is concentrated upon the objects of its 
 love ; it has no divided interests, no counter-currents 
 of affection to draw it away. 
 
 The hot Southern sun came upon the field, but 
 no ambulances or stretchers appeared. The battle 
 had passed to other regions, carrying with it all camp 
 followers and hospital attendants. A tree stood a 
 few rods away, underneath which was ample shade.
 
 h < i tr 
 
 * Then- she stood through that hot dav, shielding him by 
 her shadow.' 
 
 DRAU'lNf, BV MAX F. Kl.KPPKR. 
 
 ireu, am-, j 
 
 >.4- k ^ f,,. :;-, .^ A^rf^t ijli- -
 
 
 
 i hiiflfe. / 1. i 
 

 
 Sallie Russell 125 
 
 It might as well have been in Africa, for Ashley 
 could not reach it. His canteen soon gave out, and 
 then thirst, little less than that of Dante's damned, 
 came upon him. He vainly tried to make known his 
 want to Sallie. She looked at him with all the ear- 
 nestness of her nature, and tried hard to comprehend, 
 but could not. A stream flowed a short distance 
 away ; but how was she, who in her trouble forgot 
 hunger and thirst herself, to know that Ashley was 
 dying for water ! She would gladly have borne 
 him wherever he willed ; but he was too weak to 
 reach the nearest stirrup, or even cling to her tail. 
 And so there she stood through that hot day, shield- 
 ing him by her shadow from the intenseness of the 
 sun, and never once offering to leave him. The 
 night came, and with it chilliness and dew. Ashley 
 had reached that stage where things around him were 
 for the most part dim and uncertain. Occasionally 
 consciousness would return, bringing with it a reali- 
 zation of his terrible anguish ; and then merciful 
 oblivion would come again. 
 
 When the morning dawned, and a party of the 
 enemy's scouts, hurrying across the country, came
 
 126 Sallie Russell 
 
 upon the spot, they found a beautiful Kentucky filly 
 standing over an unconscious soldier. The pair 
 seemed to these scouts scarcely worth capturing. 
 The wounded officer was a care,, and the filly was 
 not needed ; they had enough saddle-horses, although 
 they were short of animals for transporting their cap- 
 tured supplies. After going a few miles, an ambu- 
 lance was overtaken ; but it was already loaded with 
 wounded. Then another one was sighted ; but it 
 too was unable to receive the unconscious ' Yankee ' 
 officer. A field hospital, located in a barn, was 
 presently reached, where the wounded man was 
 turned over to the surgeon in charge. The faithful 
 Sallie started to follow her master into the barn. A 
 rough soldier seized her bit, and gave it so sudden 
 and violent a jerk as to set her back upon her 
 haunches and cause her to throw her head high into 
 the air. It was the first rough treatment she had 
 ever received, and it came as a sudden revelation that 
 there was such a thing as evil in the world. She 
 involuntarily shrank from the soldier, who had given 
 her sensitive system such a shock, and received a 
 terrible kick in the side from a heavy cavalry boot
 
 Sallie Russell 127 
 
 as a reward. Every nerve in her body seemed 
 touched by electric fire. She trembled so violently 
 that even the accoutrements of the saddle jingled. 
 Her nostrils were dilated, and her breath came pant- 
 ingly, but a single thought of revenge apparently 
 never entered her mind. She was the same gentle 
 high-bred creature that God had made her ; and how- 
 ever Satanic mankind might be around her, she was 
 true to her gentle nature. Gradually the trembling 
 ceased, her surprise and indignation passed away, and 
 she submitted quietly to the demands made upon her. 
 
 ' She 's no good,' exclaimed the man who had 
 exhausted himself with kicking her. ' I do n't risk 
 my life with no such brute as that. The best thing 
 we can do is to turn her over to the commissary 
 department. They need hosses, and we do n't. 
 They '11 take the devil out of her fast enough.' And 
 without further discussion Sally was led away to 
 where the long line of army wagons was moving 
 along the highway. 
 
 Sallie had drawn a light break-cart in her Ken- 
 tucky home, and had often been driven singly to a 
 light wagon ; but no collar had ever encircled her
 
 n8 Sallie Russell 
 
 neck, nor had she ever been driven double. A mule, 
 attached to one of the wagons, had just dropped in 
 its tracks from overwork and underfeed, and the 
 wagon was blockading the entire train. The harness 
 was hastily taken from the fallen mule and clumsily 
 fitted to Sallie, and in a few minutes more, with a 
 crack of the whip and a volley of oaths, Sallie, the 
 gentle, the high-born, was pressing the soft muscles 
 of her tender neck against the rough sides of an army 
 collar and exerting her strength to pull an overloaded 
 army wagon by the side of a weary and ill-tempered 
 mule. 
 
 1 Man's inhumanity to man makes countless thou- 
 sands mourn,' is perhaps not so true to-day as when 
 penned by the Scottish bard ; but man's inhumanity 
 to animals seems greater than at that earlier period. 
 In former days men were more dependent upon the 
 animals about them. Horses were practically the 
 only means of conveyance. The dog aided in secur- 
 ing game, on which life depended. Now, modern 
 invention has superseded the horse, and game is only 
 a luxurv. The result has been to dissolve the de- 
 pendent relation and consequent sympathy which
 
 Sallie Russell 129 
 
 formerly existed, and make men more cold-blooded, 
 if possible, than ever before. Fortunately, the law 
 has come in and demanded that Mercy, which should 
 be a pleasure, shall become a duty ; but to be thus 
 forced has seemed only to harden many men's hearts. 
 The cruelty they fear to exercise in public is intensi- 
 fied in private, and the woes of abused animals rise 
 like a constant cloud before the Almighty, through 
 which human prayers for mercy can be but faintly 
 heard. * Blessed are the merciful, for they shall 
 obtain mercy,' implies that those who are not merci- 
 ful shall not have mercy. They certainly are not 
 entitled to it. 
 
 The wound which Ashley Hamilton sustained 
 was a severe one. Thousands of men during the 
 war died from slighter injuries ; but to untainted 
 blood Ashley had added a temperate life, and the re- 
 sult was a reserve of strength and vitality that now 
 bore him through. As soon as he was able to be 
 moved he was taken South and confined in one of 
 those dreadful prisons which have been so often and 
 minutely described. Philosophy and patience were 
 his only comforters. And while he was thus spend-
 
 130 Sallie Russell 
 
 ing his life in prison, Sally was wearing hers away 
 before a heavy wagon, Helen was mourning at 
 home, and the cruel war was ruthlessly continued. 
 
 If any state of existence can be hopelessly 
 wretched, it must be that of an army mule. Imag- 
 ine, then, the state of a gentle, high-bred horse, de- 
 signed by nature and training for lightness and speed, 
 attached by rough harness to a jolting wagon, and 
 wasting away her life before heavy loads. Sallie had 
 always been carefully groomed ; now she was never 
 touched with a brush. Occasionally the teamster 
 would roughly brush away, with a handful of straw, 
 some mud which had been accumulating for a week 
 or more. She had always received the best of food; 
 now she was scantily and poorly fed. The tender 
 skin on her neck and shoulders was worn away under 
 the strain of the huge collar, and the raw and sensi- 
 tive flesh was forced to bear the weight of the heavily 
 loaded wagon. Sallie always did her best conscien- 
 tiously, and she tried hard to make a beast of burden 
 of herself. But she could not pull the loads as well 
 as a stolid mule that had always been used to such 
 toil. And so the teamster saluted her ears with
 
 Sallie Russell 131 
 
 brutal curses, and wound the heavy thongs of his 
 ox-hide whip about her slender body, every blow of 
 which left ridges easily mistaken for her gaunt ribs. 
 There was no blacksmith with this train to repair or 
 replace her shoes, and her delicate hoofs were soon 
 worn down to the quick. Every step she took jarred 
 upon her sensitive nerves like an electric shock ; and 
 yet she had no voice with which to complain, and 
 her appeals would have been unheeded if she had. 
 
 There is one phase of war which is usually over- 
 looked. We sympathize with the men who sacrifice 
 their lives, limbs, or health. We pity the widows 
 and orphans, and are sorry for surviving friends ; but 
 we give little heed to the devoted animals without 
 which war would be impossible. Some of these ani- 
 mals go into battle and charge unflinchingly upon a 
 wall of bayonets ; others stand quietly by the heavy 
 guns they have hurried into position, and are lacer- 
 ated by exploding shells. But back of all these is a 
 toiling mass working quietly day by day to supply 
 the food and ammunition for all these heroes. Many 
 of them die by the way ; most of them endure suffer- 
 ing, and nearly all of them abuse, but they are silent
 
 132 Sallie Russell 
 
 martyrs, unheeded by the ones they serve and un- 
 thought of by even patriots and philanthropists. 
 
 The new and terrible work which Sallie was 
 forced to do was bad enough, but it was not the 
 worst of her troubles. She had discovered there was 
 such a thing as evil in the world, and it hurt her 
 sensitive nature terribly. She had always been 
 treated with kindness, and felt that mankind were 
 her friends. Now not a word of kindness greeted 
 her ears ; and this was a painful revelation to her. 
 A highly-bred horse has a more sensitive nature than 
 many men and women. Thoroughbreds have been 
 known to pine away and die from the loss of a 
 friend. A harsh word has turned the current of 
 many a horse's nature for all time. The sudden 
 change in Sallie's life, the loss of friends, the contact 
 with brutality, all these things produced a nervous 
 and mental strain far more wearing than her physical 
 troubles. Poor, friendless, unhappy creature ! 
 
 At roll-call in the Confederate prison one morn- 
 ing a Yankee prisoner was missing. No one knew 
 how he had escaped, but he could not be found 
 within the grounds. A detachment of cavalry was
 
 Sallie Russell 133 
 
 sent out to scour the country, but returned at sun- 
 down without any traces of the fugitive. 
 
 The escaped prisoner was Ashley. He was free. 
 He had recovered his health, and a portion of his 
 strength also. He realized fully the perils about 
 him, but he was brave and hopeful. He had no 
 money, no compass, and no food. Money he could 
 not have used were it in his possession. The North 
 Star, the moss upon the north side of the trees, and 
 the flight of birds, took the place of the compass ; 
 and his conscience did not smite him if he helped 
 himself to enough food to sustain life. And so he 
 travelled night after night, while during the day he 
 remained under cover. He kept aloof from every- 
 one, even the negroes. He knew their nature, and 
 felt that in most cases he would be safe in trusting 
 them ; but he preferred to take no risks, and so 
 travelled and foraged for himself. It was a weary 
 journey. At times fatigue discouraged him, and then 
 again he was hopeful. The latter feeling usually 
 came after he had enjoyed a good meal cooked by 
 himself in the woods. But provisions grew scarce, 
 and at last he was obliged to go several days almost
 
 134 Sallie Russell 
 
 without food. Then his strength began to fail. His 
 will-power was strong, but what can determination 
 do when one is faint from hunger and exhausted 
 from fatigue ? It began to seem to him that life in 
 a Southern prison was better than starvation alone 
 in the woods ; and for the first time he felt the 
 creeping of despair. 
 
 The forage train to which Sallie belonged was 
 hurrying away from a battlefield. It had been a 
 disastrous field for the Southern cause, and the poor 
 animals were being urged to the limit of their speed. 
 The road lay through a thick wood, with sharp turns 
 at every few rods, and deep gullies into which the 
 wheels sunk almost to the hubs. The wagon-master 
 who was driving Sallie had in some way secured a 
 large flask of liquor, and its effect was to intensify 
 his brutality. But in spite of all his whipping and 
 cursings, his wagon had steadily lagged behind until 
 it was now the last one in the train. The other 
 teams could be seen ahead at each straight stretch 
 of road, but at every turn they were shut off from 
 view. Toward sundown they came to a fork in the 
 road. The driver was too dazed to distinguish be-
 
 Sallie Russell 135 
 
 tween the two roads, and with a crack of his heavy 
 whip and a rough oath he forced Sallie and her mate 
 upon the road to the left. After going about half a 
 mile an opening among the trees was seen, and 
 presently the road led out upon a wide marsh that 
 stretched as far as the eye could see. A sober man 
 would have realized at once that he had lost his way ; 
 but the fumes of the liquor in the driver's brain 
 caused him to urge his team blindly onward. At 
 first the road seemed easier than the one through 
 the forest ; but soon the wheels began to sink, and 
 a thick ooze could be seen coming up from between 
 the stunted bunch-grass. Deeper and deeper sank 
 the wheels and heavier became the load. The driver, 
 almost unconscious of what was passing around him, 
 would occasionally open his eyes and apply the whip 
 with all the power of his drunken condition. At 
 length Sallie's mate fell to the ground completely ex- 
 hausted, and in doing so shifted jhe collar on Sallie's 
 neck so she could not lower her head. The driver 
 scrambled from the wagon and staggered to the side 
 of the fallen animal. He stooped to reach the har- 
 ness, and in doing so fell headlong by the side of
 
 136 Sallie Russell 
 
 the' poor creature. Too inebriated to rise, he lay in 
 a heavy stupor, while the darkness of night, combined 
 with the thick poisonous vapors of the marsh, drew 
 a pitying curtain over the unhappy scene. 
 
 Sallie's thin body had been covered with perspira- 
 tion when her mate fell to the ground. The damp 
 chill of the coming night now caused her to tremble 
 with cold. The weight of the harness held down 
 by the fallen animal made every moment an agony ; 
 and yet something seemed to tell her that if she once 
 yielded to the temptation to lie down she would 
 never arise. Then came the pangs cf thirst and 
 hunger; and so the weary and starless night wore 
 away. Toward morning the driver awoke from his 
 drunken stupor. He had been lying upon the wet 
 ground, and had sunk into the miry soil until a small 
 pool of slimy water had collected around him. The 
 germs of fever had made swift progress in his system, 
 and he awoke not to consciousness but to delirium. 
 And then what ravings ! He cursed his horses, each 
 time jarring Sallie's tender nerves and increasing the 
 trembling which the cold had first caused. All the 
 rest of the night he groaned and raved ; and when
 
 Sallie Russell 137 
 
 the mists had cleared away, and the hot sun poured 
 down upon his unprotected head, he begged for water 
 to relieve his burning thirst. What a death was 
 his, there in the lonely swamp, with only one living 
 creature near ! His groans and cries became less as 
 his strength decreased, until a convulsive shudder 
 ended a useless life and left his form lying in a half- 
 made grave. And Sallie was left alone. Her strength 
 was growing less ; her trembling knees could scarcely 
 bear the weight of her weakened body. She was 
 immovably fixed to a heavy army wagon, while the 
 galling harness kept her head from reaching the 
 ground where muddy water and poor grass might 
 have helped stay her fast departing life. Thus, in 
 agony, two scorching days and chilling nights passed. 
 The second day was drawing to a close. Away 
 toward the right, as far as the eye could reach, 
 stretched a vast deserted morass, unbroken by even 
 a shrub. A mile away toward the left was the line 
 of woods through which they had come; while all 
 around was desolation. No birds came to this for- 
 saken spot, and God Himself seemed to have deserted 
 it. An oppressive stillness was upon the air ; a hush
 
 138 . Sallie Russell 
 
 as of coming disaster. Sallie strained her bloodshot 
 eyes in one last look around the horizon. There 
 was the agony of despair in that look. The quiver- 
 ing nostrils, the erect ears vibrating with agony, the 
 open mouth and parched tongue, all denoted the last 
 appeal of a noble but dying spirit. Was there no 
 help ? Do both God and man desert the faithful ? 
 Sallie's anxious eyes had scanned every foot of the 
 horizon. There was no hope. She turned her ap- 
 pealing face toward the woods, and detected a slight 
 movement along its edge. Then it ceased. Again 
 it appeared, and at length, cautiously, as if fearful of 
 danger, a human figure advanced toward her. Slowly 
 but nearer it came. Would it prove a friend to help, 
 or an enemy to abuse ? Some instinct within told 
 her it was a friend ; and summoning all her remain- 
 ing strength, she gave a long and joyous whinny. 
 Its effect upon the approaching figure was wonderful. 
 At first the man stopped, and then broke into as 
 rapid a run as his evidently weakened limbs would 
 permit. Sallie watched his approach. He was rag- 
 ged, thin, and weak. His hair and beard were long; 
 but something about him seemed familiar to Sallie,
 
 Sallie Russell 139 
 
 and joy reigned where but a moment before despair 
 had been supreme. The man was Ashley a fugi- 
 tive, in rags, but the same noble fellow, the same 
 generous friend. The effect upon Ashley was no 
 less marked than upon the mare ; he caressed her, 
 spoke tenderly to her, and at once proceeded to 
 release her from her burdens. Such is the power of 
 friendship, a mystic bond existing between man and 
 the silent creatures about him no less really than 
 between man and man. 
 
 The transition from despair to joy may be pleas- 
 ing, but it is always something of a strain. Ashley 
 understood the state of affairs about him fully ; but 
 he was too weakened to accept them entirely. He 
 satisfied his hunger from the stores in the wagon, 
 meanwhile feeding Sallie from the same source. 
 Then they departed together for the woods, although 
 both were so reduced it was only by the greatest 
 effort they could get there. A quiet sheltered spot 
 served for their camp ; and, for the first time since 
 their separation, both felt content. And that same 
 night, in a quiet home far away in the Blue Grass 
 region of Kentucky, a maiden mourned for two lost
 
 140 Sallie Russell 
 
 friends, one of whom had been reported in the returns 
 of battle as ' missing.' 
 
 A week passed over the heads of the two friends 
 hidden in the woods of Tennessee. It was a week 
 spent in the effort to recover strength. Fortunately, 
 the army wagon furnished all the requirements of 
 food and shelter, and the ingenuity of the two friends 
 put it to a good use. Then came the march toward 
 home. It was a weary march, but a hopeful one. 
 Sallie seemed to understand what it meant. She too 
 had been captured, had passed through cruel hard- 
 ships, and longed for home. One day, while fol- 
 lowing an obscure trail that skirted the base of the 
 mountains, the quick -ears of the filly detected com- 
 ing footsteps. So great was the sympathy between 
 the friends that Ashley at once knew something was 
 approaching, although his duller senses had not de- 
 tected it. He quietly withdrew to the woods, where 
 the thickness of the leaves would conceal him. 
 Sallie stood immovable. There was no need to hold 
 her nostrils ; she would not whinny or make the 
 slightest noise, no matter what might appear. At
 
 Sallie Russell 141 
 
 length a scouting party of cavalry came riding down 
 the trail. They were apparently not looking for 
 anything, and rode carelessly by. Ashley began to 
 breathe freer, when suddenly the loud barking of a 
 dog was heard. One of the party had his dog with 
 him, and the animal had caught the scent of Sallie's 
 feet where they had turned from the path. Ashley 
 at once realized the situation and the danger. He 
 knew the animal would be upon them in a moment, 
 and their presence would probably be made known. 
 He felt the sinkings of despair. A quick and cruel 
 wish came to his mind. Oh, to choke, to kill that 
 dog! Then suddenly, like a flash, came the thought, 
 c Why not subdue him by kindness ? ' As the dog 
 came nearer, he stopped for a moment. He saw a 
 ragged and forlorn man. Should he seize him ? 
 Before he could decide, a soft, low, and musical voice 
 spoke kindly to him. This amazed him still more. 
 He had not heard a kind word since he was a puppy, 
 and it seemed like a voice from another world. He 
 listened ; but so much had he been imposed upon 
 that he was distrustful and eyed with suspicion the
 
 142 Sallie Russell 
 
 ragged man who was speaking such kind words. 
 But there was something in the eyes that beamed so 
 kindly from under the slouched hat, in the voice that 
 spoke so gently from beneath the frowzled whiskers, 
 which won his confidence ; his tail began to wag, 
 slowly at first, but faster and faster, until at last he 
 came and stood beside the man, and felt the gentle 
 and kindly touch of his hand upon his head. Such is 
 the power of kindness. Ashley patted the dog quietly 
 for a few moments, and then gave him some food 
 from the scant store he had on hand. The creature 
 showed his gratitude by licking his hand. Suddenly 
 a whistle was heard in the distance, and the dog 
 started and listened. The whistle was repeated, and 
 the animal instinctively started to answer it. But a 
 harsh voice rose on the air, and the poor dog turned 
 back with a wistful look in his earnest eyes. Ashley 
 knew what it meant. He believed the men would 
 not look far for their lost animal, and he determined 
 to keep him. The task was not difficult, and so the 
 party of fugitives was increased to three. 
 
 The adventures which Ashley and his companions
 
 Sallie Russell 143 
 
 encountered during the remainder of their journey 
 were few in number. There were hardships, priva- 
 tions, and perils. But one morning at daybreak, after 
 a night of travel, the white walls of the tents in a 
 large encampment were seen far down the valley. 
 Ashley's blood moved faster as he gazed, and he 
 could not repress a shout of joy upon seeing the stars 
 and stripes flying from a tall staff above the snowy 
 tents. It meant indeed l home again.' 
 
 Visitors to the Blue Grass region of Kentucky 
 often remark the beauty of a country seat in one of 
 the most picturesque locations of the State. The 
 attractive house, the neat stables, the well-kept 
 grounds, all indicate the presence of persons of refine- 
 ment and taste. It was my good fortune to be 
 entertained at luncheon in this home on a certain 
 day, when with a well-known gentleman of Louis- 
 ville we were travelling by wagon and incidentally 
 viewing fine horses. While our animals were being 
 cared for, we looked through the stables. An espe- 
 cially bright and intelligent filly caught my eye. I
 
 144 Sallie Russell 
 
 liked her appearance, and she did not object in the 
 least to my advances. While I was stroking her 
 neck, an under-sized mastiff came up and watched 
 me. He seemed suspicious, but I soon overcame 
 all that. 
 
 1 You seem pleased with the mare,' remarked my 
 host, a striking looking and well-preserved man in 
 the fifties. 
 
 4 1 certainly am,' I replied. 
 
 4 There is a most interesting story connected with 
 the ancestors of both the mare and the dog,' he said, 
 as his eyes lit up with the fires of recollection. 
 
 And so, as we sat over our pleasant lunch, the 
 story as told above was narrated, and was listened 
 to not only by the guests of the family but by a most 
 charming woman and three bright-faced children. 
 
 4 And this attractive little mare is a descendant 
 of the " Sallie " that saved your life ? ' I enquired. 
 
 4 Exactly ; and the dog is a descendant of the one 
 I got in the woods,' my host smilinglv remarked. 
 
 'And Sallie?' I asked. 
 
 4 1 '11 show you her grave if you care to see it.
 
 Sallie Russell 145 
 
 She died at a happy old age,' he said, ' but there is 
 one thing I must not forget to tell you . . .' 
 
 'Which is ?' 
 
 1 Sallie was the mother, three generations back, 
 of the famous trotter " Maud S." Do n't you think 
 that "blood will tell?"'
 
 LITTLE BYRON
 
 LITTLE BYRON. 
 
 'T was a November day, cold, windy, 
 and altogether disagreeable. But, 
 cold as it was, it was not too cold 
 for dog-dealers. For several hours 
 one of this curious fraternity had 
 stood at a prominent street corner 
 on Fifth Avenue. Under each 
 arm he held a shivering little 
 puppy ; and he tried, by covering 
 a part of their bodies with his 
 sleeves, to stop their pitiful trembling from the cruel 
 cold, but with only partial success. 
 
 The little fellow under the man's right arm was 
 unmistakably a pug. Although but little of his body 
 was visible, the soft yellowish skin, tipped at the nose 
 and feet with black, easily sufficed for his identifi- 
 cation. A pretty blue ribbon, tied in a neat bow 
 around his neck, implied respectable antecedents and 
 associations.
 
 150 Little Byron 
 
 The puppy under the man's left arm was easily 
 recognizable as a Scotch terrier. He too was chilled 
 by the cold, but his bright and restless little eyes 
 took note of everything around him, and cast appeal- 
 ing glances at the passers-by. A red ribbon was 
 around his neck, but it was plain he did not like it 
 and could not understand its use. Every little while 
 he would raise a pudgy paw and try to work the 
 ribbon off; but a shake from the man's rough hand 
 would cause him to be more quiet. 
 
 The man spoke not a word to the passers-by, 
 but took care to keep the puppies plainly in sight, 
 showing their points of beauty to the best advantage. 
 And so hour after hour passed. Occasionally a lady 
 would stop to admire the little creatures. They 
 usually looked up in her face, blinking their eyes, and 
 snuffing timidly to see if she were a friend. Again, 
 a messenger boy, on his way to deliver an important 
 note, would stop and gaze at the puppies, and try to 
 talk to the seller. Usually the attempt was not suc- 
 cessful ; and so the boy would be compelled to find 
 amusement elsewhere along his route. 
 
 After a time the puppies grew hungry. As long
 

 
 > : he man's left arm was easily 
 
 otch terrier. He too was chilled 
 
 ut his bright and restless little eyes 
 
 jf everything around him, and cast appeal- 
 
 es at the passers-by. A red ribbon was 
 
 id his neck, but it was plain he did not like it 
 
 could not understand its use. Every little while 
 
 he would raise a pudgy paw and try to work the 
 
 ribbon off; but a shake from the man's rough hand 
 
 would cause him to be more quiet. 
 
 1 < KEkiiunalfc spifaty nwmlil stop to -.uiniiixTtteilstfy, 
 
 but took care to kee^^&f'^ippies plainly in sight, 
 
 showing th ,.. - J- H,v,,H,,,. t 
 
 And so h. 
 
 would stop to adm 
 
 usually looked up m her i<.. ,, and 
 
 snurfing timidly to see if she were a friend. Again, 
 
 cr boy, on his way to deliver an important 
 
 . would stop and gaze at the puppies, and try to 
 
 > the seller. Usually the attempt was not suc- 
 
 . and so the boy would be compelled to find 
 
 elsewhere along his route. 
 
 ne the puppies grew hungry. As long
 
 

 
 Little Byron 151 
 
 as they did not whine, the man paid no attention to 
 their sufferings ; but the terrier soon made known 
 his wants, and the pug quickly seconded him. Then 
 the man took a bottle from his pocket and poured 
 what seemed to be milk down their throats. In 
 reality *it was milk strongly charged with whiskey. 
 The little fellows did not like it ; but when hunger 
 is fierce, what is to be done ? They swallowed it. 
 Then they grew very quiet, and blinked their eyes 
 sleepily. But in a few minutes all this changed. 
 Their eyes seemed to grow large. They stopped 
 trembling. Next they appeared more lively, so that 
 when a kindly old gentleman stopped and began 
 stroking their hair the terrier wriggled and twisted 
 like an angleworm, while the pug barked furiously. 
 
 1 Lots of life in them,' said the man ; 4 shows 
 their breeding.' 
 
 ' Have you their pedigree ? ' inquired the old 
 gentleman. 
 
 4 Yes, sir; raised them myself from imported dogs. 
 One of the mothers I brought from Europe.' 
 
 The old man looked incredulous. He suspected 
 something of the real truth, which was that the
 
 
 152 Little Byron 
 
 dog-seller had received the puppies that morning by 
 express from another city where they had been 
 stolen by one of his confederates. So the old man 
 passed on. 
 
 The unnatural life which the liquored milk had 
 given the puppies soon passed away, and they began 
 to be stupid. The man was about to produce the 
 bottle a second time, when a lady stopped in front 
 of him. She looked first at one puppy, and then at 
 the other, and finally placed her hand on the head 
 of the terrier. 
 
 The dog-seller gave the puppy a sharp pinch, 
 unseen by the lady, and this aroused the drooping 
 life in the little animal. His eyes became bright 
 again, and when the man called ' Rats ' he pricked 
 up his ears and looked around inquiringly. 
 
 ' He 's very gamy,' said the man, lifting the 
 puppy by the back of the neck, an operation which 
 causes but little pain, although it appears cruel. 
 4 He 's affectionate, too,' he continued, holding the 
 puppy up toward his beard. The little fellow 
 reached out his head as if he loved the man, but 
 the truth was the dog-seller's whiskers had been
 
 Little Byron 153 
 
 rubbed with an odorous oily material which dogs like, 
 and the puppy stretched out his nose to scent it. 
 
 4 How cunning he is ! ' exclaimed the woman. 
 4 Will he make a good pet dog ? ' 
 
 ' Never a better one, ma'am,' replied the vender. 
 
 1 And can I lead him on the street ? ' 
 
 'Just as easy as you would a child, ma'am,' said 
 the man. 
 
 4 1 'm very fond of dogs ; but I hate cats,' con- 
 tinued the prospective customer. 4 Now this one 
 looks like a nice doggy. I do n't know much about 
 them, I 'm afraid ; but would this one look well on 
 the street ? ' 
 
 4 He 'd look like a drum major, ma'am. Lots 
 of style to him. No end of people will turn to look 
 at him when he gets grown up and goes out with a 
 stylish lady, ma'am.' 
 
 The subtle flattery had its effect. The dog- 
 seller was evidently a very discriminating person. 
 
 1 How much is he worth ? ' 
 
 4 Well, ma'am, these dogs mostly sells for fifty 
 dollars apiece when they are such a pure breed as 
 this, but I will sell you this one for thirty-five dollars,
 
 154 Little Byron 
 
 for I know you will be kind to him and give him a 
 good home. I would n't sell him to some people, 
 not for no money.' And the man seemed greatly 
 moved by tenderness, but not so much so as to forget 
 to pinch the puppy again, to make him appear lively. 
 
 1 1 do n't think I can afford to pay so much,' 
 she declared, with the air of a bargainer ; ' but if 
 you will deliver him to my house this evening I will 
 pay you twenty-five dollars for him.' 
 
 In reality, the man would have taken five dol- 
 lars ; but he argued strongly for more. 
 
 ' I brought the mother of this dog from England,' 
 he said. ' She was one of a litter that was owned 
 by the Princess of Wales. My brother worked in 
 the garden at the palace, and so got the dog for me. 
 Very few ladies owns a dog related to the Princess 
 of Wales's dog.' 
 
 The man delivered his statement unblushingly, 
 and the woman accepted it as true. She hesitated 
 no longer, but would have paid an even larger sum 
 rather than miss obtaining so rare a dog. And so 
 that evening found the little terrier in an Avenue
 
 Little Byron 155 
 
 mansion, where he was to be the pet of a lady of 
 fashion. 
 
 Mrs. Forsythe Merton was a widow, and a 
 woman of social ambitions. In this respect, at least, 
 she was on a par with many others. She possessed 
 the wealth, but not the ability, to become a social 
 queen. Naturally, then, she became an imitator. 
 Certain prominent people, in imitation of European 
 potentates, put silver chains and monograms on their 
 harness. Mrs. Merton covered her harness with 
 silver, and her monogram could be recognized across 
 the street. Several lonely childless women in the 
 upper circles had adopted dogs to relieve their loneli- 
 ness. Mrs. Merton, although she was not lonely, as 
 she possessed a grown-up daughter, felt that she too 
 required a dog. But while the ladies whom Mrs. 
 Merton imitated had possessed dogs designed prima- 
 rily for pets, Mrs. Merton purchased one fitted for 
 life and animation, not for sleep and laziness. Yet 
 she had not discernment enough to discover her 
 mistake. 
 
 Mrs. Merton named her dog Byron. It pleased
 
 156 Little Byron 
 
 her to have a romantic name for him, and the name 
 suited the little fellow just as well as if it had been 
 Jack or Terry. And then she tried to train him, 
 to subdue his restless spirit. At first she used sharp 
 words, then harsh commands, then a whip. It would 
 have been as easy to tame the waves of the sea. 
 The restless blood within his veins could only be 
 quieted by exercise and life. Then she turned him 
 over to the servants. If his life had been tiresome 
 before, it was wretched now. Had the little terrier 
 been the property of the servants, they would have 
 treated him less harshly, perhaps sometimes even 
 kindly ; but he belonged to the mistress, and they 
 felt no love for him. He was fed well enough, but 
 he never heard a kind word, and was continually 
 beaten 'and kicked about. But in spite of all this 
 harshness and abuse, his natural vivacity kept him 
 up, and he thrived wonderfully. 
 
 One day Mrs. Merton determined to take him 
 out with her for a walk on the Avenue. He was 
 decorated as carefully as if dressed for a reception, 
 and was glad enough to go. And then the trouble 
 began. Mrs. Merton walked in a stately manner :
 
 Little Byron 157 
 
 poor Byron could not do so. He pulled at the cord 
 with joy at the sight of every dog they met, and flew 
 around as if mad. Mrs. Merton was mortified and 
 angry. She would have liked to kill the little fel- 
 low then and there ; but outwardly she was smiling 
 and serene. 
 
 At last the walk was ended. Mrs. Merton 
 retired to her room, taking the young dog with her. 
 A row of shapely shoes was at the side of the wall ; 
 and seizing one of these, and holding the innocent 
 cause of her vexation by the collar, she gave him a 
 cruel beating. As she stopped from exhaustion, the 
 trembling little creature looked up into her face with 
 pleading eyes ; but he saw no pity there, only cold, 
 cruel pride, and relentless, unreasoning anger. He 
 felt no resentment, for he did not snarl or growl. 
 He forgave her the moment she released him, for 
 he turned affectionately and licked her hand. She 
 drew it sharply away, boxed his ears, and harshly 
 ordered him to lie down. With an inquiring and 
 appealing look, he turned and obeyed. 
 
 After this episode his life was a series of misfor- 
 tunes. The servants abused him shamefully, and his
 
 158 Little Byron 
 
 mistress always treated htm with harshness. His 
 nature was so buoyant and cheerful that he would 
 have been happy with even a few words or acts of 
 kindness; but they were never given him. He 
 would gladly have surrendered the active life for 
 which he was fitted for the quiet life he was com- 
 pelled to lead, had kindness been coupled with it, 
 but it was not. The only time he ever heard the 
 gentler tones of the human voice was when company 
 was present. Then he was spoken to kindly, and 
 caressed with the greatest apparent affection. 
 
 One day he ventured to follow Mrs. Merton 
 into the hall, where she was saying some parting 
 words to her visitors. She spoke gently to him, 
 lifted him in her arms and stroked his silky hair, 
 while chatting with her friends. The act and the 
 posing made a pretty effect, which she well under- 
 stood. The last words were said, the door swung 
 on its noiseless hinges, and she was alone, when, 
 without a word, the same hand which had just 
 pressed so gently the palms of her friends fell in 
 anger upon the head of the helpless dog, carrying
 
 Little Byron 159 
 
 pain to his little body and agony to his sensitive 
 spirit. And so he was compelled to endure a slavery 
 worse than death. He had no one to appeal to : 
 no friends at hand. His suffering was unknown 
 outside of the walls he was compelled to call home. 
 No humane ears heard his plaintive whinings, which 
 at times" he could not repress ; no humane eyes saw 
 the abuse, or the sufferings that resulted. The book 
 of record in which unmerciful deeds are kept has 
 never been opened to human view, and the mysteri- 
 ous entries made therein will not be known until the 
 day when mercy may be most required. 
 
 Cruelty, neglect, confinement, and grief at last 
 told upon little Byron, and he lost his cheerful spirits 
 and bright ways. Then his mistress considered him 
 a nuisance. She would willingly have given him 
 away ; but the love she had professed for him before 
 her friends would not permit it. 
 
 One day he seemed duller than usual, and one 
 of the servants who had just kicked him stooped 
 down and examined him closely. 
 
 4 The little brute has got the mange,' he ex- 
 claimed.
 
 160 Little Byron 
 
 When this intelligence came to Mrs. Merton's 
 ears, she called the servant. 
 
 ' James,' she said, c I want you to take Byron 
 out for exercise ; and while you are gone, lose him. 
 Do you understand ? ' 
 
 ' I do, ma'am, and I '11 do it,' said the faithfully 
 brutal servant. 
 
 The night was the .middle of December, clear 
 and cold. The servant and Byron came down Fifth 
 Avenue until they reached Madison Square. James 
 crossed the square, walking briskly, and Byron am- 
 bled along as fast as his weakened strength and 
 partially blinded eyes would permit. He saw James 
 just ahead of him, and heard the sound of his feet 
 on the stone walk. Suddenly the sound ceased. He 
 looked around him : he was alone. Slowly he 
 realized his new situation : he was lost and homeless. 
 His had been a wretched home, but it was his only 
 one ; and he felt the anguish of despair. 
 
 There is nothing in nature or in life more forlorn 
 and pitiable than a lost dog. Men have their pride 
 and consciousness of manhood to lean upon ; but
 
 Little Byron 161 
 
 our dumb friends are dependent upon us. Dogs 
 especially must have someone to serve, someone to 
 love. Their faithfulness becomes servility. The 
 hunting dog will go until he drops, at the command 
 of his master. The fighting dog will endure until 
 death, if a brutal owner urges him on. Even the 
 most abused and most debased of dogs will stand by 
 and serve masters lower in the scale of being than 
 themselves. The world knows of no greater devo- 
 tion, a devotion to which the higher orders of hu- 
 manity seldom attain. 
 
 Byron was not a hunter, and could not follow a 
 trail. He knew his brown-stone home on the 
 Avenue when he saw it ; but, alas, with his dimmed 
 eyesight he could not find it. The wind had full 
 sweep of Madison Square, and it ruffled the hair 
 upon his weakened body, chilling him through and 
 through. He tried to face it, but the fierce gusts 
 blew him to one side. He sought the shelter of the 
 great fountain in the centre of the square, which gave 
 him some protection. Presently it began to snow ; 
 slowly at first, but with great white flakes coming
 
 162 Little Byron 
 
 down silently, steadily, mercilessly. They were 
 drifted about and blown in every direction, and 
 formed a winding-sheet for poor little Byron. 
 
 His plaintive whinings had been growing feebler ; 
 his eyes were becoming dimmed to all about him. 
 Inside the fountain inclosure, where the rippling 
 music of the water had all the long summer kept 
 time to the laughter of merry children, the ' spar- 
 row police ' of the park had stored the now empty 
 benches on which tramps and nurses and lovers 
 had passed so many happy and sunny hours. Byron 
 made a desperate effort, and succeeded in reach- 
 ing the shelter of one of these piles of deserted 
 benches. The cold here was no less intense, but 
 the wind was not so piercing, and the snow came 
 only in sifting flakes. Here he passed the night. 
 His weak form curled itself into a trembling and 
 shivering mass, getting what warmth it could from 
 its own vitality. The icy stone was his bed, and 
 the latticed benches his only covering. Poor little 
 Byron ! God pity him, in his desertion and despair ; 
 and God pity and forgive the heartless ones who turn
 
 Little Byron 163 
 
 out upon a cruel world helpless and confiding crea- 
 tures, worthy their care and love. 
 
 The night of suffering slowly passed, and at last 
 came the morning. Byron was so weak and feverish 
 that he could hardly move. Some instinct, however, 
 caused him to make the effort ; and he drew himself 
 together as best he could, and wandered aimlessly 
 across the park, shivering and almost blinded. What 
 was it that caused him, in his misery, to seek the 
 very corner where, a year before, he had been sold 
 by the dog-vender ? Whatever it was, at last he 
 reached the spot, and stood there trembling and 
 forlorn. He had once been a pet, and fairly cared 
 for. Now he was friendless and deserted ; but, un- 
 fortunately, he was not alpne. A boy who was 
 sweeping the sidewalk struck at him with his broom. 
 He shrank away from the blow, and, in his half- 
 blind condition, brushed against the freshly polished 
 boots of a young exquisite. Oh, what a cruel kick 
 he received ! A shop-girl, hurrying to her store, 
 failed to see him and almost stepped upon him. She 
 drew her skirts away in horror, and uttered a harsh
 
 164 Little Byron 
 
 reproach that seemed to hurt him more than either 
 the boy's blow or the dandy's kick. Byron turned 
 his bewildered little head in every direction ; but the 
 very atmosphere seemed rilled with hostility. Laughs, 
 jeers, harsh words, and cruel taunts greeted his sen- 
 sitive ears, while his half-blinded eyes looked appeal- 
 ingly about him for the semblance of a friend. 
 
 Among the Babel of hostile voices, his quick ear 
 at last caught a sympathetic tone. He could not 
 see the one from whom it came, but he groped his 
 way in the direction of the sound. Then he felt a 
 gentle hand resting kindly on his head, while words 
 of sympathy came like heavenly music amidst the 
 discords. So hungry was he for kindness that his 
 troubles seemed now at an end. And then the light 
 touch of the friendly hand was gone, and the gentle 
 voice had ceased ; but he knew the direction they 
 had taken, and blindly followed. Again the discord 
 and danger were around him ; but he felt that a 
 refuge was just ahead, and staggered on. Presently 
 a curbstone checked his progress ; then a stone flung 
 by a cruel boy crashed against his head. He rolled 
 over in the gutter, just as a gorgeous carriage, filled

 
 
 
 He lav there in hopeless agom and despair. 
 
 f \\ II AMI! I 
 
 -<>n*, he h.. 
 of his i., 
 -*>,, Hut wb<n he saw that the c.-

 
 Little Byron 165 
 
 with a gay party on their way to the steamer, came 
 along. The driver saw the helpless creature lying 
 there in his way, but did not turn aside his horses 
 or stop to avoid an accident. Byron's head was 
 almost under the heavy wheel; in another instant it 
 would be crushed. 
 
 A slight movement on the part of the little 
 fellow, struggling blindly just before the wheel, saved 
 his life ; but one of the silken ears, that had been so 
 often stroked by white and jewelled hands, was 
 caught and crushed against the pavement. He lay 
 there in hopeless agony and despair, the victim of a 
 cruel and relentless fate which seemed bent on heap- 
 ing every possible evil on his head. Yet he had 
 never done a wicked, a treacherous, or a cruel act. 
 He had been gentle, loving, and faithful, even when 
 slighted and abused. 
 
 A few moments before, a gentleman had noticed 
 the friendless little dog, and had stopped to speak 
 kindly to him, and even stroked his head ; but, like 
 many well-disposed persons, he had passed on with- 
 out thinking further of his needs or helping him in 
 any way. But when he saw that the carriage had
 
 166 Little Byron 
 
 run over the little fellow, he started at once to help 
 him. 
 
 A crowd had already begun to gather about the 
 place. l Send for the Bergh people,' said one man, 
 helplessly. ' Get the policeman to put a ball in him,' 
 remarked another. 
 
 These and other suggestions, equally foolish or 
 brutal, were cut short by the gentleman lifting the 
 little dog in his arms and quietly taking him away. 
 The poor sufferer, weak and trembling as he was, 
 nestled close to his new protector, trying feebly to 
 lick his hands, as though to show his gratitude at 
 having found at last, what was so needful to his 
 happiness and to his very life, a sincere human friend. 
 
 It was the turning-point in little Byron's career. 
 The ill-fortune that had hitherto pursued him fol- 
 lowed him no further. Snatched from an impending 
 and cruel death, he was carefully nursed back to 
 health and comeliness, and found in the home of his 
 new benefactor the happiness and protection that had 
 previously been denied him. The wrong and cruelty, 
 the harsh words and brutal deeds, that had been
 
 Little Byron 167 
 
 visited upon him so unmercifully, became to him but 
 an evil dream or an indistinct memory. 
 
 But he did not quite forget. One day, while 
 walking in the Park with his beloved master, they 
 met a lady, richly dressed, who bowed pleasantly to 
 the gentleman, but gave a start of surprise at sight 
 of little Byron. She called him by name ; but the 
 dog shrank from her in affright. 
 
 'What, do you know him?' asked the gentleman. 
 
 4 Oh, yes, we are old friends, are n't we, Byron ? ' 
 replied the lady. 
 
 But Byron told no tales. 
 
 How fortunate it may sometimes be for people 
 that their ' dumb companions ' are dumb indeed !
 
 BABY AND THE KITTEN
 
 BABY AND THE KITTEN. 
 
 HAVE a charming pair of 
 friends, a married couple, 
 whom I knew previous to 
 their marriage. They are 
 exceedingly happy, and ap- 
 parently inhabit but one 
 world, and that is their 
 home. They were the 
 proud possessors of a beau- 
 tiful child ; and when I say 
 beautiful, I mean all that the word implies. Even 
 I, a bachelor, could see and in a manner appreciate 
 this wondrous beauty. And how. my friends dis- 
 coursed about that child, and tried to interest me in 
 him ! and, really, I was quite impressed by their 
 arguments, and even more so by the child itself. 
 
 When the baby was about a year old the nurse 
 one day gave it a little white kitten to play with. 
 This kitten was one of a number which had been 
 reared in the house, and had just arrived at the kit-
 
 1 72 Baby and the Kitten 
 
 tenish stage of playfulness. It was a case of mutual 
 admiration and friendship from the first. The baby 
 was immensely pleased with the kitten, while the 
 kitten itself looked with wondering eyes at the little 
 child before it. It was evidently its first sight of a 
 baby, and it could hardly understand the diminutive 
 creature. Finally it lifted a little paw on which the 
 claws were carefully gloved, and gently, half playfully 
 and half inquiringly, stroked the baby's chubby hand. 
 The baby seemed to like it, and began to crow and 
 laugh in that highly original manner common with 
 babies. This seemed to close the contract of friend- 
 ship on the part of these two youthful beings, and in 
 a few moments they were frolicking together as hap- 
 pily as could be imagined. 
 
 Whether it was because the new state of things 
 gave the nursemaid more leisure or because the child 
 required less of her attention, she seemed at all events 
 to encourage the friendship that had arisen between 
 Baby and the kitten. And so, with a dainty blue 
 ribbon about its neck, the little bundle of down was 
 permitted to play about the crib and ride in the baby 
 carriage nearly every day. The two became almost
 
 Baby and the Kitten 173 
 
 inseparable companions a state of things less re- 
 markable from the standpoint of the baby than from 
 that of the restless and playful kitten. It was per- 
 haps not surprising that at first mamma looked with 
 a certain distrust, not unmixed with jealousy, at the 
 strange friendship. She had heard, as most parents 
 have, of the superstitious legends that kittens had 
 been known to c suck the breath ' of infants, but she 
 was a woman of too much education and common 
 sense to give anything so ridiculous more than a 
 passing thought ; and so she permitted, while she did 
 not encourage, the newly formed friendship. 
 
 It was one of the most amusing of sights to 
 watch these little friends play together. The kitten 
 soon came to understand the use of the rattle, and 
 managed to make as much noise with it as did the 
 baby. And between the two infants the nursery 
 became a very lively place ; in fact, the child seemed 
 able to dispense with the usual playthings of baby- 
 hood, and took high enjoyment in tumbling the kitten 
 about, watching its antics, and crowing at the top 
 of his voice. It could easily be seen that the baby 
 unintentionally hurt the kitten occasionally, and the
 
 174 Baby and the Kitten 
 
 feline infant usually protested by a shrill cry ; but it 
 never tried to resent the treatment, and never for a 
 moment permitted its claws to lacerate the delicate 
 skin of the baby. 
 
 And so these two young creatures grew along 
 together, although it could easily be seen that the 
 kitten was maturing much faster than the baby ; but 
 the intimacy between them seemed to increase rather 
 than diminish. One day the nurse, for some reason 
 known only to her class, lost her temper and spoke 
 harshly to the child, and even began to shake it. The 
 kitten was lying quietly asleep at the foot of the crib, 
 but at the first sound of the harsh words it opened 
 its eyes and looked up with wonder. Then a com- 
 plete change seemed to come over it. The familiar 
 sight of the arched back, puffed fur, and glaring eyes, 
 was followed by the snarling, spitting actions common 
 to cat nature, and the kitten sprang upon the nurse, 
 clawing and striking vigorously. Of course it was 
 unable to do any serious harm, but it brought the 
 nurse girl to her senses, and she released the baby 
 from her grasp. Whether the two little friends were 
 happier over the result, and in their way talked con-
 
 Baby and the Kitten 175 
 
 fidentially about its outcome, will perhaps never be 
 known ; but at all events they had a very frolicsome 
 time for the next half hour. 
 
 The little kitten began to develop a fondness 
 for music, though not always of the highest order, 
 for it seemed as much fascinated by the hand-organ 
 in the street as by the piano which its mistress occa- 
 sionally played. At such times it would sit very 
 quietly, often with its head turned to one side, its ears 
 erect, and its eyes sometimes very wide open, and 
 again dreamily and drowsily listening as long as the 
 music continued. Evidently the baby did not have 
 so good an ear for music, for he often seemed rest- 
 less while the kitten was so absorbed, and sought to 
 break up the reverie in which his feline friend was 
 indulging ; but the kitten usually managed to hear 
 the music, notwithstanding the interruptions. 
 
 On one occasion, on a warm spring day, the 
 music of an organ was heard upon the street, and 
 the sounds came distinctly through the open window 
 near which the baby and kitten were playing. The 
 little animal listened intently, turning its head from 
 side to side with its ears very erect. The .baby tried
 
 ij6 Baby and the Kitten 
 
 to drown the sound of the organ by using its lungs 
 at their utmost capacity ; but it was in vain. Sud- 
 denly, without noise or warning, a monkey, dressed 
 in a red coat and with a jaunty hat set upon his 
 head in a rakish manner, appeared at the open win- 
 dow. He blinked his little black eyes, and chattered 
 in a quiet undertone, while gazing at the astonished 
 pair before him. The baby was thoroughly fright- 
 ened, and uttered a piercing scream ; while the 
 kitten, without retreating, arched its back, ruffled its 
 fur, and put itself in a position of defence. It was 
 evident, however, that the monkey was as much 
 astonished and embarrassed as were the other mem- 
 bers of the impromptu party. He even failed to 
 indulge in his usual begging act, notwithstanding 
 that the string of his master, fastened to his waist, 
 was prompting him to do so. At last, however, he 
 seemed to grasp the situation, and came forward, 
 smiling in his best manner, and seated himself upon 
 the edge of the crib. By this time the expressions 
 of fear on the faces of both baby and kitten had 
 turned to amazement and curiosity ; so that when, a 
 few moments after, the nurse entered the room, she

 
 apacity ; but it was in vail 
 it noise or warning, a monkey, 
 
 in a red coat and with a jaunty hat set upon his 
 head in a rakish manner, appeared at the open win- 
 dow. He blinked his little black eyes, and chattered 
 in a quiet undertone, while gazing at the astonished 
 pair before him. The baby was thoroughly fright- 
 ened, and uttered .a piercing scream ; while the 
 kitten, without retreating, arched its back, ruffled its 
 
 fur, and put itself in a position of defence. It was 
 L He, blinked his little, black c\es, . . . while gazing 
 evident, however, thai , , .-r.fv.was, as murn 
 ' at the astonished pan Before him. 
 
 astonis! f, R . UVIN(; BY j. C^TKR BKARD. 
 
 bers of the impn uied to 
 
 . . . 
 
 that the string of his n 
 
 was prompting ^him to do so. At last, however, he 
 
 seemed to grasp the situation, and came forward, 
 
 smiling in his best manner, and seated himself upon 
 
 the edge of the crib. By this time the expressions 
 
 or" fear on the faces of both baby and kitten had 
 
 to amazement and curiosity ; so that when, a 
 
 ments after, the nurse entered the room, she
 
 Baby and the Kitten 177 
 
 found the trio in the happiest kind of visiting mood, 
 although the string of the musician was almost break- 
 ing the monkey's body in two, so stubbornly did he 
 cling to the crib where he was having such a good 
 time. And then it was the nurse girl's turn to be 
 astonished and frightened. It is quite probable that 
 she might have done the monkey some bodily injury 
 had her courage been greater. But when she saw 
 how pleasantly the three were getting along, she 
 burst into laughter, which seemed to add to the 
 enjoyment of the entire party. Suddenly, however, 
 the mother, who had heard the child's scream, rushed 
 into the nursery : and she too was filled with amaze- 
 ment, then amusement, and at last with a feeling of 
 kindness toward the little animal that had produced 
 such a happy effect upon the child. However, she 
 sent him back to his master with a coin, which he 
 placed carefully in his pocket after the manner of 
 such simian financiers ; but it is needless to say he 
 returned the next day, and the next, and that the 
 funniest kind of tripartite agreement existed for a 
 brief period each day in that nursery. 
 
 There was another interesting little association in 
 12
 
 178 Baby and the Kitten 
 
 which the baby and the kitten joined, and that was 
 with the sparrows. One morning an enterprising 
 little member of the sparrow fraternity hopped up 
 on the window sill, either from curiosity or in search 
 of food. Baby saw him and began to crow. Kitten 
 saw him, and at once assumed that crouching cat-like 
 attitude common to its race ; but when it saw the 
 pleased expression on the baby's face, the kitten 
 seemed to relent and ceased its hostile demonstra- 
 tions. Then the nurse quietly threw a few crumbs 
 upon the sill, which the fearless little sparrow in- 
 stantly devoured. This also furnished much amuse- 
 ment. Thus it happened that the next day, when 
 the Sparrow came bringing two companions, the 
 entire nursery was eagerly awaiting them ; and within 
 a week a flock of these little chattering birds came 
 regularly each day to the window sill. Probably no 
 comedian ever furnished more amusement to an 
 interested audience than did these birds to the inhab- 
 itants of the nursery. The kitten especially seemed 
 interested in them, and apparently lost all desire for 
 their destruction. It would lie on the edge of the 
 window ledge, watching the birds in their gyrations,
 
 Baby and the Kitten 179 
 
 permitting them to come within easy striking dis- 
 tance, and all the while seeming much amused by 
 the happiness caused by the food distribution of the 
 nursery. 
 
 But while there were pleasant episodes in the 
 association of Baby and the kitten with other youth- 
 ful animals, there were times when things far more 
 serious occurred. One evening, just at twilight, 
 when the baby had got well along in his first year 
 and the kitten had attained almost its full propor- 
 tions, the child was lying asleep, while the kitten 
 was curled up in that form of alertful rest peculiar 
 to cat-nature. Very quietly but very quickly a lithe 
 body glided across the room and sprang upon the 
 crib, and in another instant a half-grown rat had set 
 its sharp teeth into the delicate skin of the baby's 
 arm. Although the kitten had never seen a rat 
 before, yet it was evident that no explanation was 
 necessary as to the nature of the intruder, and quick 
 as a flash the kitten seized the enemy, sprang to the 
 floor with it, and fought with the fury of a demon. 
 Inexperienced as the kitten was, the task was no 
 easy one, and it received several severe wounds, but
 
 i8o Baby and the Kitten 
 
 never for an instant did it relax its hold, and in a 
 few moments it had extinguished all signs of life 
 in the rodent. Even then it did not cease to hold 
 it fast, so that when the nurse and members of the 
 family, who had heard the noise, came into the room, 
 they found the kitten still in possession of the in- 
 truder, which it stubbornly refused to relinquish. 
 
 As time passed, it was plain that the kitten was 
 growing in size, in strength, and in knowledge, much 
 faster than the baby ; and yet this growth did not 
 seem to interfere in the least with the friendly rela- 
 tions that had always existed. So that when the 
 youthful cat, which had finally been named Clytie, 
 disappeared from the nursery for a period, the baby 
 not only missed it but mourned for it. And yet the 
 absence continued ; and while the baby did not pine, 
 it was manifest to both parents and the nurse that 
 he felt very unhappy over the loss of his companion. 
 One day, however, Clytie entered the nursery, look- 
 ing somewhat emaciated but very proud, and carrying 
 in her mouth a diminutive white kitten, which she 
 deposited in the crib. The baby was overcome by 
 its emotions. Joy at the sight of his friend, bewil-
 
 Baby and the Kitten 181 
 
 derment upon viewing the small bundle of animated 
 down, and a curious kind of fear, seemed to struggle 
 with each other. But Clytie quickly overcame this 
 embarrassment. She rubbed her head gently against 
 the baby's hand, purring happily, and apparently in 
 an ecstasy of pleasure. Then the baby caught the 
 infection, which made matters very pleasant in that 
 nursery for some time thereafter. The little cat 
 seemed disposed to bring her entire family to that 
 room ; but this the baby's mother would not permit. 
 She did, however, allow the cat to come there each 
 day, much to the pleasure of both child and pussie. 
 It was several months after, when the kittens 
 were fairly grown, that their mother ventured out 
 upon the street one day for a little airing. She 
 was standing quietly in front of her home just out- 
 side the area-way, when a well-dressed and appar- 
 ently well-bred man passed along. She looked up 
 into his face with a friendly, half-inquiring expres- 
 sion, for she had received such uniformly kind treat- 
 ment all her life that she could not think the human 
 race could be other than her friends. Suddenly, and 
 without warning, the man raised a heavy foot, gave
 
 182 Baby and the Kitten 
 
 her a cruel kick which sent her into the area, and 
 passed along with a brutal laugh. The suddenness 
 of the action had prevented the cat from escaping, 
 and she fell into the area with two of her ribs 
 broken. 
 
 There was a memorable, never-to-be-forgotten 
 night, which came to the circle of little friends. It 
 was November, cold and bleak. The snow fell 
 charily, and was seized and whirled in miniature 
 cyclones as fast as it came down. The signs upon 
 the offices and stores creaked dismally, and the shut- 
 ters of the houses rattled as if to resent the attack 
 of the storm. It was ' Winter's wild birthnight.' 
 And yet, within hundreds of homes, there was 
 warmth, quiet, and happiness. It was so in the 
 home that sheltered our baby and his parents. They 
 had retired early, and the wild noises without did 
 not disturb their slumbers. The lights were turned 
 low in the nursery, and all was still within. Sud- 
 denly but noiselessly a narrow ray of light flashed 
 out from a dark corner. It wandered in a long pen- 
 cilled line toward every portion of the room. Then 
 it vanished, and a stealthy, shuffling sound, scarcely
 
 Baby and the Kitten 183 
 
 audible, followed the direction the last rays had taken. 
 And then a form, grim and muffled, stood above 
 the spot where Baby slept the sleep of innocence. 
 The light from the lantern was flashed once more, 
 just enough to reveal the dark face of the midnight 
 burglar in marked contrast to the sleeping child 
 beneath him. And, hardened as the man was, des- 
 perate as was his venture and dangerous as was his 
 position, he paused, looked at the little face and form, 
 and the set lines upon his countenance relaxed. But 
 it was only for an instant. A sense of his devilish 
 errand returned to him, and nerved him anew to 
 his deed of plunder. He moved away from the side 
 of the crib and was about to enter the next room, 
 when a sound such as that household had never 
 before heard awakened the echoes and even aroused 
 the neighborhood. It was a wail such as is seldom 
 heard even in thickly populated cities. It rose upon 
 the air, died away in a moan, and was renewed with 
 fresh energy. It was piercing, almost unearthly. It 
 checked the burglar, and made him a sphinx instead 
 of a brigand. Clytie had scented danger and given 
 the alarm. The unusual noise awakened Baby, and
 
 184 Baby and the Kitten 
 
 he added his vigorous voice to the general uproar. 
 No burglar-alarm ever invented could equal, for a 
 moment, the call to arms these two youthful voices 
 produced. And the burglar realized it. He saw- 
 that all hopes of plunder were over, and that flight 
 was his only salvation. It is pleasant to be able to 
 add that his attempt was unsuccessful, and that he 
 was captured and has since had an opportunity, in a 
 felon's cell, of philosophizing upon the antipathy 
 which one particular cat seemed to have for him. 
 It was a summer day, hot, dusty, oppressive. 
 Baby had been playing with Clyde, but seemed to 
 grow weary, and finally turned his head away and 
 laid his flushed cheek down upon the pillow. Clytie 
 could not understand this unusual conduct, and so 
 curled her white bundle of fur up cosily beside him. 
 But the little child was restless, and turned uneasily 
 from side to side. Clytie stood up and looked at 
 Baby wonderingly. What could it all mean ? And 
 then Baby began to cry, not loudly or peevishly, but 
 very quietly, and with a plaintive tone. The crying 
 continued at intervals, ending each time in a sad little 
 moan. Poor Baby ! where is nurse ? and does she
 
 Baby and the Kitten 185 
 
 not see you are suffering ? So at least Clytie 
 appeared to think. 
 
 A little later in the day the maid came in, 
 smoothed down the pillows, and tried to soothe Baby 
 to sleep ; but he was restless, and continued to cry 
 and moan, very softly, very pitifully. The girl did 
 not note the crimson cheeks, the dry skin, and the 
 parched lips of the child, and only sought to put 
 him to sleep. And so the time passed until Mamma 
 came to see her little treasure, and found him with 
 a raging fever and partially delirious. Oh, the sud- 
 den agony that seemed to stifle her heart ! and oh, 
 the eternity of suspense until the family doctor came! 
 And very grave the doctor looked, although, of 
 course, he sought to cheer the mother all he could. 
 And then began that struggle against the dread 
 enemy scarlatina, which was seeking to consume the 
 tender life of the babe ; a struggle in which the life 
 of the mother seemed a cheap price to pay for the 
 salvation of her child. 
 
 From the first, Clytie had refused to leave the 
 crib ; and it was soon found that her presence seemed 
 to soothe and have a good effect upon the tiny patient.
 
 i86 Baby and the Kitten 
 
 And so she was permitted to remain. We all know 
 what vitality the cat race possesses, and the peculiar 
 electrical force that seems stored in their bodies. 
 That something of this vitality and power can be 
 transmitted to others, many believe ; and it was 
 clearly apparent in the case of Baby. He plainly was 
 better when Clytie was with him, and he seemed 
 to understand if she left his side even for a few 
 moments. 
 
 But, alas ! Baby grew worse. He did not seem 
 to be in pain, but it was plain that he was being 
 consumed by the fever. And at last the fatal night 
 came the night when Baby lay in his mother's 
 arms and piteously moaned his little life away. His 
 dimmed eyes saw not and knew not those about him. 
 His crimsoned cheek was hotter than the scalding 
 tears that fell upon it. His parched lips and swollen 
 tongue could not call even the loved name of his 
 mamma. But his little hand clutched, with its de- 
 parting strength, the soft silky fur upon the white 
 body of his faithful Clytie. And when all was over, 
 when the eyes were closed forever, the breath had 
 ceased to come and go, and the little form was stiff-
 
 Baby and the Kitten 187 
 
 ened in death, the tiny fingers were still twined in 
 the soft down that grew so luxuriantly upon the 
 gentle body of his little friend. And thus they left 
 them : the child in the embrace of death, the other 
 caressed as by a cherub. Friends through life 
 in death they were unparted. 
 
 There is an empty nursery in the home of my 
 friends, which has remained untenanted for more than 
 a year. The little shoes are placed carefully beside 
 the crib. The dresses that Baby wore and the play- 
 things in which he once delighted are in their place ; 
 but the nursery is still. Did I say the place was 
 empty ? That is a mistake. It is occupied, and 
 almost constantly. The little crib contains a downy 
 bed of cotton, on which for days and nights together 
 Clytie quietly rests. She never complains,' but she 
 seems always sad. Occasionally she will wander 
 about the room, sniffing at the little garments once 
 worn by her friend, and then return to the crib dis- 
 consolate. Twelve long months have passed, but 
 Clytie seldom offers to leave the room, and whenever 
 she does go she always faithfully returns. And when 
 the mother comes as to a shrine and strokes the
 
 i88 Baby and the Kitten 
 
 delicate garments once worn by her idol, when she 
 kisses with all the passion of a lost love the folds 
 which once encircled the form she worshipped, and 
 when her tears flow with the bitterness of despair, 
 she always sees by her side, silent but sad, the large 
 brown eyes and white form of Baby's devoted friend, 
 CLYTIE.
 
 MAXEY
 
 MAXEY. 
 
 GRACE GREELEY'S advice 
 to young men to ' Go West ' 
 has doubtless done much good, 
 but it has also worked some 
 harm. Many young men, 
 fired with a lively but indefin- 
 ite ambition, have rushed west- 
 ward, only to be swallowed in 
 the maelstrom of that wild, 
 hurrying life. Some have there 
 found their fortunes without losing their sense of 
 honor, while others have gained material success but 
 lost their spiritual legacies. 
 
 Fortunately for Herbert Euston, he did not be- 
 long to the latter class. The same spirit of natural 
 nobility which inspired him in boyhood sustained him 
 in after years ; and he went to the mining regions 
 of the West, well protected against its moral malaria. 
 He looked over the field carefully, and finally
 
 192 Maxey 
 
 determined to push on beyond the Rocky Mountain 
 Range, and seek a new mining region where the 
 gifts of the earth awaited the coming of the pioneer. 
 And so he started out, accompanied only by one 
 companion a diminutive and unprepossessing burro. 
 
 Those who have never known the burro can 
 have but a vague idea of its real nature. It is not 
 a mule ; it is not, strictly speaking, a donkey. It 
 possesses most of the physical qualities of both those 
 animals, with little of their moral infirmities. It is 
 strong, patient, long-suffering, and kind. It never 
 displays sudden emotion of any sort. It may have 
 fears, but they are never shown. It may cherish 
 animosity, but it is never manifested. One's first 
 impulse at the sight of a burro is to laugh. Further 
 acquaintance arouses interest, which sometimes de- 
 velops, even in men of brutal natures, into affection. 
 An old mountain prospector will fight for his pack- 
 animal as quicklv as for any other friend. 
 
 It was with one of these devoted animals that 
 Herbert began his career as a prospector. For more 
 than a week they climbed the sides of mountains 
 and worked their way through canons and across
 
 Maxey 193 
 
 mountain streams, each night finding them nearer the 
 setting sun. Their camp was usually in some nar- 
 row valley, shut in by rocky walls, but where good 
 water and sufficient vegetation were to be found. 
 Herbert named the burro ' Maxey,' possibly because 
 it was the first name that occurred to him, and possi- 
 bly because it answered as well as any other. 
 
 After toiling all day, carrying a pack weighing 
 several hundred pounds, and climbing the sides of 
 mountains to which human skill and courage were 
 scarcely equal, Maxey would quietly graze while 
 Herbert slept. At times the moonlight would steal 
 from behind some giant peak, and, sifting through 
 the evergreens upon its sides, light up the valley in 
 strong contrast to the black shadows beyond. Then 
 it would disappear behind another mountain, gilding 
 only the snowy peak and leaving the rest in dark- 
 ness. At such times the stillness seemed oppres- 
 sive and the slightest sound was magnified ten-fold. 
 The noisiest thing in all that scene of wildness was 
 the little snow-fed brook. Its descent was steep ; 
 and as it sprang from rock to rock, or shot around 
 some huge boulder, it seemed to laugh for joy at its
 
 194 Maxey 
 
 freedom, its youth, and its hopes for the future. 
 
 In the great city we meet thousands of people 
 each day, until human faces almost become an an- 
 noyance. Even in smaller settlements, compara- 
 tively little is thought of human or animal life. But 
 in the vast solitude of the mountains, where Nature 
 rules in silent grandeur, the spirit is drawn toward 
 man, toward dumb companions, and toward God. 
 
 As, day after day, Herbert Euston toiled through 
 the narrow passes and observed the quiet faithfulness 
 of the animal by his side, as the absence of all human 
 life caused him to note more carefully the character 
 of his dumb companion, and he realized the many 
 noble traits of the quiet little animal, his heart was 
 warmed with a feeling of affection for the devoted 
 creature whose lot was cast with his. At last he 
 came into the region beyond the range, and began 
 his work of prospecting. It was a slow process : 
 days of toil, nights of loneliness ; one day cheered 
 by hope, the next doomed to disappointment. But 
 during all that time, Maxey was the same docile, 
 faithful creature ; never straying away, always ready 
 for any task, however laborious.
 
 Maxey 195 
 
 It was in the month of September, near its close, 
 that Herbert and Maxey were working their way 
 along the side of a steep and rather barren mountain. 
 They would advance a few steps and halt while some 
 vigorous strokes were given with the pick into what 
 might prove to be ' blossom rock.' It seemed to 
 Herbert he had put his pick into nearly every rod of 
 mountain surface in all that region ; but his efforts 
 had been fruitless. The mountain upon which he 
 stood was of a most forbidding nature. Much of 
 its surface was of unusually hard quartz, and the 
 4 indications ' were anything but favorable for mineral. 
 Herbert was picking away at a crevice which seemed 
 to give a little better promise, while Maxey was trying 
 to secure a little bunch of grass that was growing in a 
 crevice just above him. Suddenly the animal's sharp 
 little feet, which seemed fitted by Nature to take 
 hold on the rocks, slipped ; and, turning quickly, 
 Herbert saw Maxey sliding down the steep descent, 
 his feet striking with marvellous quickness and power 
 on the flinty rocks, but failing to hold. He passed 
 from view ; and for a moment Herbert stood still 
 with horror. The next, he began making his way
 
 196 Maxey 
 
 as rapidly as possible down the sides of the cliff, to 
 where, nearly forty feet below him, the little animal 
 had lodged and now lay motionless. Herbert reached 
 the spot and found the faithful little creature uncon- 
 scious. At first he feared it was dead ; but the large 
 brown eyes opened slowly, and at once recognized 
 their friend and master. Herbert made an effort to 
 raise him, but found one of his feet had caught in a 
 crevice, and was immovable. It was this that had 
 checked the fall and prevented Maxey from going 
 headlong into the canon below. 
 
 Herbert worked his way back to the spot where 
 he had left his pick. He soon returned with it and 
 began prying at the rock to loosen Maxey's foot ; 
 but alas! it seemed immovable. But what was that 
 substance at the side, which yielded so quickly ? 
 Herbert's eyes had been too long looking for it not 
 to recognize at once that it was a large vein of 
 mineral. A great thrill of joy came into his heart ; 
 but it instantly vanished at the sight of the poor suf- 
 fering creature before him. Gently, and as quickly 
 as possible, Herbert released the imprisoned foot, 
 found that it was wrenched but not broken, and,

 
 Maxey 
 
 as rapidly as possible down the sides of the cliff, to 
 where, nearly forty feet below him, the little animal 
 had lodged and now lay motionless. Herbert reached 
 the spot and found the faithful little creature uncon- 
 scious. At first he feared it was dead ; but the large 
 brown eyes opened slow' >nce recognized 
 
 their friend and master. Herbert made an effort to 
 or" his feet had caught in a 
 :ul was immovable. It was this that had 
 checked the fall and prevented Maxey from going 
 headlong into the canon below. 
 
 ^an^aJ ^ lodge^fcr&SU''^ mo tionl^ ' 
 he had kR*UP>yMi \Uv ) Ki, PPrR ir a * nd 
 
 began prying at the rock to ' foot; 
 
 but alas! it seemed immovable. But what was that 
 substance at the side, which yielded so quickly ? 
 Herbert's eyes had been too long looking for it not 
 to recognize at once that it was a large vein of 
 mineral. 'A great thrill of joy came into his heart ; 
 but it instantly vanished at the sight of the poor suf- 
 fering creature before him. Gently, and as quickly 
 as possible, Herbert released the imprisoned foot, 
 found that it was wrenched but not broken, and,
 
 Maxey 197 
 
 partly carrying and partly guiding his injured com- 
 panion, succeeded in getting him back to camp. 
 Here for four days he watched him tenderly, noting 
 every change, and at the fifth day he was rejoiced 
 to find that, although still lame and sore, Maxey was 
 not permanently injured, and was on the way to a 
 speedy recovery. Then, and not before, Herbert 
 went up the mountain to view the discovery which 
 Maxey had been the means of revealing to him, and 
 in doing which had so nearly lost his life. His heart 
 beat wildly as he approached it. His arm seemed 
 nerveless as he drove the pick down, but the vein 
 of ore which he soon laid bare was so extended, so 
 easily worked, and so rich, that he hardly dared to 
 trust his senses. Here was wealth such as even his 
 imagination had not pictured. It seemed too good 
 to be true. 
 
 Seasons are short in the mountains, and the snow 
 comes early. Herbert knew this, and realized he 
 had b\it few days left in which to return to the settle- 
 ments. But he became so interested in the discovery 
 he had made, and so anxious to learn its extent, that 
 he delayed his journey to the last moment, and only
 
 198 Maxey 
 
 started when a chilling wind from the north warned 
 him of the coming winter. The first few days they 
 made good progress, and the summit of the range 
 was left behind. On the third day a leaden sky shut 
 down upon the mountains, seeming to shroud their 
 tops and extend even to the distant plains beyond. 
 Occasionally a white cloud-mass would come sailing 
 down from the north, and striking the precipitous 
 sides of some peak break into a multitude of moist 
 fluffy cloudlets. At times these fleecy travellers 
 would completely envelop Herbert and his toiling 
 companion, and it was only with difficulty that they 
 could keep the trail. But the stay of these white- 
 winged visitors was short, and they quickly passed 
 along, leaving the dark unchanging sky above. 
 
 Toward night it began to snow ; slightly at first, 
 as if only as a quiet reminder that winter was on 
 its way. But the flakes, which were small and scat- 
 tering in the beginning, grew larger and larger and 
 came in greater numbers. They would strike the 
 cold sides of the mountain, find a little lodgment, 
 and sift down into the crevices and ravines. They 
 pelted the faces of the two travellers, as if chiding
 
 Maxey 199 
 
 them for their foolhardiness in coming to that unin- 
 habited region ; and seemed to take especial delight 
 in forming drifts to obscure the trail. 
 
 Herbert sought the shelter of an overhanging 
 rock, and built a fire of such twigs and branches 
 as he could find. For a few hours it burned 
 warmly ; but fuel was scarce, and the storm grew 
 fiercer. At last the fire went out entirely, and the 
 darkness that preceded day settled down upon them. 
 Herbert could feel Maxey standing beside the rock 
 and shivering from the cold, while he walked up 
 and down to keep his own body warm. But the 
 patient animal stood with his back to the wind, 
 motionless and uncomplaining. 
 
 As soon as the first signs of daylight made their 
 appearance, Herbert and his companion resumed their 
 march. It was a weary task. At times the trail 
 would be clear, where the winds had carried away 
 the snow, and again it would be entirely obscured. 
 For hours the two struggled on, buffeted by the storm 
 and faint from their exertions. Herbert was a brave 
 man, but his courage could not long withstand the 
 fury of the elements. He grew weaker and weaker.
 
 200 Maxey 
 
 Finally he felt an overpowering desire to sleep. He 
 knew what this meant, but was too exhausted to 
 resist it. Even at that desperate moment, his regard 
 for the little burro asserted itself. He loosened the 
 straps that held the pack, threw the burden off into 
 the snow, and putting his arms around the gentle 
 creature's neck, bade him good-bye and turned him 
 loose. But Maxey refused to move. His master 
 tried to drive him away. It was useless. Too ex- 
 hausted to make further effort, Herbert sank down 
 into the snow, with a prayer on his stiffening lips. 
 How long he remained in a stupor he did not 
 know ; but at last he was partially aroused by some- 
 thing warm coming in contact with his body. He 
 reached out, and in doing so clasped Maxey, who 
 had lain down and was nestling close to him. The 
 warm body was grateful to him, and he clung to it 
 in a bewildered way, scarcely realizing that it was 
 moving, that it was on its feet, and that he was 
 on its back. For hours after that he had a dim 
 consciousness of being carried, he knew not where. 
 Sometimes his fancy led him to believe it was upon 
 the back of an elephant, through some tiger-haunted
 
 
 bbd 

 
 lowering desire to slec 
 ,, but was too exhaii 
 en at that desperate moment, his regard 
 n,i the little burro asserted itself. He loosened the 
 straps that held the pack, threw the burden off into 
 the snow, and putting his arms around the gentle 
 creature's neck, bade him good-bye and turned him 
 loose. But Maxey refused to move. His master 
 tried to drive him away. It was useless. Too ex- 
 hausted to make further effort, Herbert sank down 
 into the sno his stiffening lips. 
 
 How d not 
 
 - He looaem-d tin- strap* that held the pack.' 
 URAU.V. m MAX K. KLEPPKR. 
 
 had lain dov. nestling close to him. The 
 
 warm body was grateful to him, and he clung to it 
 
 in a bewildered way, scarcely realizing that it was 
 
 moving, that it was on its feet, and that he was 
 
 on its back. For hours after that he had a dim 
 
 isness of being carried, he knew not where. 
 
 nes his fancy led him to believe it was upon 
 
 k of an elephant, through some tiger-haunted
 
 Maxey 
 
 201 
 
 jungle in tropical India. Again, he seemed to be 
 conveyed by a deerhound, whose instincts scented 
 the trail unerringly. But he was too tired to care 
 how or where he was going, and finally forgot it all. 
 
 ' Yer in high luck, stranger.' 
 
 Herbert looked the speaker in the eye, gazed 
 beyond to the rafters of the cabin around him, and 
 tried to think. 
 
 ' Where am I ? What is it ? ' 
 
 'It's luck, I tell yer, though some calls it 
 Providence. Yer in Mountain Jim's cabin, and all 
 right that is, if them toes and fingers comes out 
 well under the snow poultice I' ve put on.' 
 
 4 How did I come here ? ' 
 
 4 On a everlastin' little burro a kind of a angel 
 without wings, I reckon.' 
 
 'Where is he?' 
 
 4 Oh, he 's all right. I 've got him over in the 
 corner yonder, takin' a meal off'n dried bunch-grass 
 after his journey. Yer see, I was sittin' down playin' 
 solitaire, bein' as that's the only game that don't 
 need a pardner, and pards is scarce around these
 
 2O2 Maxey 
 
 diggin's, when I heard a kind o' little tip-tap at 
 yon door. Well, I did n't notice it much, 'cause this 
 has been a old tearer of a storm, and noises has 
 been pretty common fer so quiet a place ; then, 
 too, I was kind o' gone on the game. Bimeby I 
 heard it ag'in nothin' but tip -tap. Then I 
 thought 't was the old spruce outside knockin' its 
 branches to pieces on the cabin ; and so I went on 
 playin'. But the infernal thing kept tip-tappin', and 
 so at last I got up, kind o' mad like, and opened the 
 door, and thar stood that durned little animal, quiet 
 as a lamb, with you on his back. Well, I just invited 
 him right in, and he come, you bet ; but I believe 
 he 'd stood there all night, tip-tappin' nothin' more 
 if I hadn't opened the door.' 
 
 A smile of intense satisfaction passed over Her- 
 bert's face, even in hrs weakened condition. Then 
 he fell asleep again. 
 
 For four days the storm lasted, making it impos- 
 sible to think of seeking the trail for weeks to come. 
 Herbert's frostbitten extremities gave him a great 
 deal of annoyance ; but as the injuries were not 
 serious, he cheerfully endured the suffering.
 
 Maxey 203 
 
 Mountain Jim had a fair store of provisions, but 
 it was not inexhaustible. Herbert readily saw this, 
 and tried to accommodate himself to the situation ; 
 but the rough mountaineer would not listen to his 
 protestations. He insisted that Herbert should share 
 with him. But Herbert was worried about Maxey. 
 The supply of bunch-grass had been used up the 
 second day ; the storm prevented any foraging out- 
 side, and the patient animal showed the effects of 
 hunger in every line of his serious face. Herbert at 
 length suggested to the owner of the cabin that he 
 permit him to take his portion of hoe-cake in the 
 form of meal, as it would probably answer his pur- 
 pose quite as well. The bearded fellow stopped 
 shaking the pan in which he was frying bacon, and 
 looked sharply at his companion for a moment. 
 
 ' I understand yer,' he said, ' an' yer right. But 
 yer ain't goin' to play no lone hand, I kin tell yer. 
 If yer divide yer meal with Mixey, as you call him, 
 Mountain Jim does the same, and make no mistake.' 
 
 Herbert protested, but it was useless ; and there- 
 after, for two days, the little burro fared daintily 
 though sparingly. One half of each man's portion
 
 204 Maxey 
 
 of meal was set aside for Maxey, but was not fed 
 to him until the cabin table was laid. Then they 
 all dined together Maxey from a pail at the side 
 of the room, and the two bearded men from oppo- 
 site sides of the table. Their hunger was never sat- 
 isfied, but they were cheerful and content. 
 
 After the snow stopped falling, Mountain Jim 
 tried to break a path. It was a hard and almost 
 hopeless undertaking. Meanwhile, Herbert gathered 
 some spruce boughs for Maxey, but, hungry as the 
 animal then was, it seemed almost impossible for him 
 to live upon them. Then Herbert dug around in 
 the snow in search of dry bunch-grass ; but the 
 rocky surface yielded very little, and sometimes only 
 a handful would reward a hard day's search. The 
 days passed on, an occasional rift of sunshine melt- 
 ing the snow in places, but not enough to allow 
 travelling. They found that by the most careful 
 economy their provisions would last only a week 
 longer ; and they determined to make a bold strike 
 for the settlements. 
 
 The sufferings of that trip were almost too dread- 
 ful for description. Manly fortitude sustained the
 
 Maxey 205 
 
 two men, but their resolute patience was almost pet- 
 ulance compared with the uncomplaining endurance 
 of Maxey. With but an occasional mouthful of 
 food ; with hunger making each bone daily more 
 visible ; with all the exertion of keeping the trail and 
 carrying the light load of provisions, there was not 
 the slightest sign of discontent or of yielding to their 
 misfortunes. One might almost suppose such appar- 
 ent fortitude was stupidity ; but it was not. Neither 
 was it stoicism. It was the same quality that we 
 see so seldom among men, and admire so greatly 
 when it is found. It was courage, patience, and 
 endurance qualities none the less noble and heroic 
 when possessed in such high degree by a simple- 
 minded mountain burro. 
 
 The last two days of their journey they were 
 absolutely without food ; and they certainly could not 
 have endured it had they not known by the landmarks 
 that their destination was not far off. When they 
 reached it, the reaction from the strain threw Herbert 
 into a fever, and for several days he was unconscious. 
 His first care on reaching the hotel had been to see 
 that Maxey was provided for ; but had he failed to
 
 206 Maxey 
 
 do this, his continuous ravings would have suggested 
 it to those about him. When the fever had left him, 
 and, a mere skeleton, he was able to get about, he 
 was overjoyed to find Maxey fat, well, and contented. 
 This aided his convalescence ; and the quiet life he 
 led in Denver during the remainder of the winter 
 restored him to his former health, strength, and 
 activity. 
 
 Many are the safes, vaults, and desks in America 
 where shares of mining stock can be found. These 
 shares are usually engraved in the highest style of 
 the art, printed oh fine bond paper, and the inevit- 
 able miner with the pick can usually be discovered 
 among the designs. But the really profitable mines 
 are very rare. More money has probably gone into 
 Colorado for mining operations than ever came out 
 in bullion. And yet the discovery made by Herbert 
 Euston, with the help of Maxey, was the first of that 
 series which made Colorado famous and planted a 
 city in the heart of the wilderness. Herbert was far 
 too shrewd not to know the importance of his dis- 
 covery, but he had no desire to labor in its devel-
 
 Maxey 207 
 
 opment. When, therefore, he received an offer for a 
 controlling interest in his property which amounted 
 to an ample fortune for him, he promptly accepted 
 it and remained in Denver to look after his other 
 interests. His personal presence, his education, and 
 his genial ways, made him quickly popular, and soci- 
 ety sought him. 
 
 When society seeks an individual, it is often 
 because that individual does not seek society. This 
 was the case with Herbert. The trying experiences 
 through which he had passed, the solitary existence 
 he had led, and his own temperament, all tended 
 toward the life of a recluse. He would take long 
 walks on the plains about the city, always accom- 
 panied by Maxey ; and the grand view of the moun- 
 tains, the mildness of the climate, and the peace of 
 his own spirit, gave him ample cause for happiness. 
 And yet he felt a certain need, a something lacking 
 in his life. It was such a want as every right- 
 minded young man feels, especially when living 
 among strangers. It was the longing for home, for 
 love, for the influences of domestic life. His was 
 not a heart to surrender on sight to a pretty face ;
 
 208 Maxey 
 
 he had the appreciation of worth that told him only 
 a beautiful soul could make him happy. And yet 
 his experience with women was so limited that he 
 could not readily distinguish between a noble soul 
 and one which only seemed so. It was not surpris- 
 ing, therefore, that when he met a certain attractive 
 young lady, the daughter of a prominent merchant, 
 whose beauty of face seemed slight compared with her 
 loveliness of spirit, he was at first deeply interested in 
 her, and that this interest should soon ripen into love. 
 Outwardly she was charming. She had beauty and 
 accomplishments, and was actively engaged in the 
 many charitable enterprises of society. Fairs, festi- 
 vals, and charity balls, all found in her a ready 
 patroness. Her social ambitions were subtle but un- 
 bounded. She saw in Herbert a means to this end. 
 His standing, his wealth, his acquirements, were all 
 to her purpose, and his suit was prosperous. But 
 if the affair was a deliberate one on her part, it was 
 not so with him. He loved the ideal as he thought 
 he saw it revealed in her, and he was very happy. 
 One charming afternoon Herbert was walking 
 along the Platte River road, accompanied by his
 
 Maxey 209 
 
 faithful Maxey, whose slickly groomed coat gave his 
 homely form almost the appearance of beauty. They 
 had been enjoying a long stroll, and Herbert was 
 talking to his dumb companion with a confidence 
 and freedom that evidently were well bestowed. 
 "The quiet little creature seemed to understand per- 
 fectly, and all his actions betokened his confidence 
 and affection. As they came to a turn in the road 
 Herbert saw a carriage approaching. His blood 
 stirred, for he recognized the carriage and its occu- 
 pants, one of whom was his fiancee. As they drew 
 nearer he was puzzled and strangely pained to see a 
 peculiar look on her face, of mingled anger and con- 
 tempt, as her eyes rested on the burro. Stepping to 
 one side and lifting his hat, he bowed as the car- 
 riage stopped. 
 
 ' We are seeing the beauties of nature,' she 
 laughingly declared. 
 
 4 You have them with you,' said Herbert, gal- 
 lantly. 
 
 The young ladies all smiled over this sally, and 
 the driver spoke to his horses. 
 
 4 Of course I shall see you this evening,' said
 
 2io Maxey 
 
 his betrothed, as they moved away ; and Herbert 
 bowed an affirmative. 
 
 As he walked along he was haunted by the 
 strange look on the face he loved. What could she 
 see repulsive in an animal possessing so many noble 
 qualities ? To Herbert's eyes he seemed more than 
 human ; why should he not to others ? Was it pos- 
 sible her heart was not so warm as he had thought 
 it to be ? No ; he would not believe it. She was 
 noble, charitable, loving, and could not but feel 
 generous toward the dependent creatures around her. 
 And with this feeling he finished his walk. 
 
 4 You cannot imagine, my dear,' she said that 
 evening, ' how embarrassed I was to-day at seeing 
 you by the side of that horrid little Mexican donkey. 
 The Forsythe girls were with me, and you know 
 how swell they are, and how particular. They asked 
 me, after we drove along, if you chose your own 
 society. Now promise me, wo n't you, never to be 
 seen with that dreadful animal again ? ' 
 
 1 But,' said Herbert, ' you do not know that 
 animal as well as I do. I owe both my fortune and 
 my life to him. It was through an accident, by
 
 Maxey 211 
 
 which he nearly lost his life, that I found my mine. 
 I should have perished in the mountains if he had 
 not saved me.' 
 
 ' I do n't care,' declared the young lady, with a 
 flush. c He 's horrid, and I do n't want you to keep 
 him.' 
 
 ' And what would you have me do with him ? ' 
 inquired Herbert quietly, although his heart seemed 
 to stop beating. 
 
 'Sell him, or give him away anything you like, 
 only get rid of him at once,' she replied with a laugh. 
 The tone, the laugh, the request, all jarred upon 
 Herbert. They were a new and unexpected revela- 
 tion of her character. His heart sank. 
 
 ' I cannot do what you ask,' he replied, after a 
 pause. 
 
 The blood mounted to her temples. She had 
 mistaken his gentleness for weakness (a not uncom- 
 mon blunder with the world), and now saw her error. 
 But her pride was aroused, and so she resorted to 
 softer measures. 
 
 4 Will you not do it for my sake ? ' And her 
 appealing eyes came caressingly near him.
 
 212 Maxey 
 
 ' I have always tried to anticipate your wishes,' 
 he replied, ' but this request is impossible. I cannot 
 do it.' 
 
 He rose to go. Her face was flushed. The 
 undercurrent of his being was agitated, but the sur- 
 face was calm. She threw all the power of her 
 actress nature into one appealing look, but it faded 
 as she saw in his eyes, not the tenderness of love, 
 but the pathos of pity. 
 
 The next day Herbert left Denver. No one 
 knew where he had gone. The proprietor of the 
 hotel at which he lived said he had paid his bill, 
 packed a few things, and departed, taking with him 
 his little burro. Most of his effects were still at the 
 hotel, but he had left no directions regarding them, 
 nor had he indicated where his letters should be sent. 
 There was wonderment in Denver for some time, 
 but the constant changes in the growing town soon 
 diverted attention to other things, and the popular 
 young man was forgotten. 
 
 On the farther side of the Great Snowy Range, 
 where fertile little valleys are occasional and rocky
 
 Maxey 213 
 
 canons and lonely peaks are on every side, a mining 
 camp was lately established. The usual number 
 of rovers flocked in, camp-life and camp-government 
 began. One of the miners, an exploring, ven- 
 turesome man, pushed farther on into the interior, 
 impelled by the instincts of the fortune-hunter. In 
 the course of a few weeks he returned, and to all 
 inquiries was silent. It was noticed that he seemed 
 more thoughtful than before his exploring trip, and 
 unsuccessful attempts were made to rally him. At 
 last he departed, and in the course of time reached 
 Denver. There it was the good fortune of the writer 
 to meet him, and in the course of conversation he 
 related the following story : 
 
 1 After leaving the mining camp, I pushed on 
 through the mountains, determined to find something 
 more valuable than the ordinary mines around me. 
 It was a hard journey. There were no trails and no 
 signs of human beings. I think it was the fifth day, 
 when, as I was going through a rocky but picturesque 
 canon, I saw what seemed to be a cabin far up the 
 side, where a little clump of evergreens almost hid 
 it from view. It was the first sign I had seen that
 
 2i4 Maxey 
 
 human beings had ever been in that region ; and I 
 eagerly climbed up to examine it. As I came nearer 
 I saw it was a neat and well-made cabin, with a 
 certain refinement about it, quite uncommon at such 
 places. It was quite deserted. At the door lay the 
 bones of some animal, and on examination I became 
 satisfied that they were those of a burro. \Vithin, 
 on a bunk by the side of the cabin, were the remains 
 of a human being long since dead, how long, 
 there was no means of judging, but death had surely 
 not come from starvation, for I found remnants of 
 food in various parts of the cabin. I searched the 
 cabin to find some trace by which to identify its 
 departed owner, and at last was rewarded by discov- 
 ering a mouldy diary. It must have lain there for 
 years, for the paper was yellow and some of the 
 writing was very indistinct. I preserved it, however, 
 and it is still in my possession.' 
 
 What it was that caused me to think of such a 
 thing, I cannot say, but I felt that I had once known 
 the owner of that book. 
 
 ' May I see that diary ? ' I inquired. 
 
 At first the man refused; but I became so earnest
 
 Maxey 215 
 
 that at last I was permitted to see it, and there, on 
 the still preserved pages, were traced the closing 
 scenes of a singular life. I copied them as though 
 they were a sacred chronicle, and here reproduce the 
 last three days entire. 
 
 4 February 12. It must be fever. I have never 
 felt so strangely before. Quinine does not seem to 
 check it, and my head feels hot and heavy. To 
 be sick, alone, and away from possible help, is not 
 pleasant. For myself I do not care so much. But 
 what will become of Maxey if I should be unable 
 to move? the dear fellow who has always been so 
 patient, so devoted ; who has stood by me when 
 other friends proved false. I cannot let him suffer. 
 I will put a supply of food where he can get it in 
 case I should be taken really sick. I do n't think it 
 is anything serious, but it is well to provide ahead.' 
 
 ' February fj. My suspicions are correct. It 
 is fever. Well, God's will be done. I have no 
 fears, no regrets ; but what will poor Maxey do ? 
 He came out here with me willingly ; he has never 
 shown the slightest trace of evil ; he has a true 
 heart, and, in spite of his apparent stupidity, he is
 
 216 Maxey 
 
 sensible and shrewd. But his devotion is touching. 
 I do not think I could drive him away from here, 
 and I can tell by the way he looks at me he believes 
 I never will try to do so.' 
 
 1 February /./. Valentine's Day, and I am grow- 
 ing hotter and weaker every hour. I know I shall 
 soon lose my reason, and without care I cannot live. 
 If I should die, and anyone should come and find 
 me here, let my last request be heeded. Take care 
 of my burro. He will live, and I will repay all 
 care. This is my last will and testament. Money, 
 stocks, and bonds, in the vault of the Colorado Na- 
 tional Bank, Denver. All these go to the man who 
 finds and cares for my poor burro the sharer of 
 my good and evil fortune, devoted to me during life 
 and faithful unto death, my friend and comrade 
 MAXEY.'
 
 DANIEL PRATT
 
 DANIEL PRATT. 
 
 EW people ventured out during 
 the day of the great New 
 York blizzard in 1888, and 
 most of those who did found 
 cause for regret. I tried to 
 walk a few blocks up Fifth 
 Avenue, and succeeded in 
 reaching Forty - second Street, 
 when my strength and courage 
 
 _^ ^ failed me. I turned back, 
 and was working my way along the shelter of the 
 big reservoir, when I heard an angry voice pitched 
 in the harshest of tones. I looked across the avenue, 
 and saw a man kicking vigorously and swinging his 
 arms like a wind-mill at a large and apparently strong 
 dog. The creature turned and ran, every few steps 
 stopping to look back, and each time meeting with 
 the same fierce gestures. I did not think it possible 
 that anyone could abandon an animal in such a
 
 220 Daniel Pratt 
 
 storm, and so I made my way across the avenue to 
 where the man was standing. 
 
 4 Is there anything the matter ? ' I inquired. 
 
 The man, who was well dressed, looked at me 
 with a mind-your-own-business expression, and went 
 on shaking his fists at the dog. 
 
 'Has the dog stolen anything?' I again inquired. 
 
 4 No, he has not,' was the reply, 4 but I 'm not 
 going to have him following me around all the 
 while, besides costing me a small fortune to feed 
 him.' 
 
 ' And so you are trying to get rid of him, are 
 you ? ' 
 
 1 That 's it exactly,' he replied ; ' he can go to 
 the devil.' 
 
 4 He will unquestionably meet you there,' I said, 
 with a strong effort to control myself. 
 
 The man glared at me fiercely, but the coward 
 instinct which exists in all cruel natures checked his 
 bravado, and his eyes fell. 
 
 4 I advise you to return home and pray for 
 mercy ; you will need it soon enough,' I exclaimed. 
 4 As for this poor creature which the Almighty has

 
 . 
 
 trust r 
 
 point < 
 
 and to' 
 
 which 
 
 down the we wen 
 
 animal fac 
 
 break i ; 
 
 where I pic 
 
 he c<&HtjflW!ft watstyn&j.me with an earnest \rt 
 
 T, look.' 
 
 1 ne new d< 
 
 DRAWIM. BV MAX F. KLEPHKK. 
 a dog witt. : the 
 
 St. Bernard 
 
 almost . 
 
 disposition . 
 
 an animal BO 'or human r 
 
 word or a ok would 
 
 instantly. eemed too i 
 
 for the on< friendly to i 
 
 everything as 
 
 fidence.
 
 Daniel Pratt 221 
 
 entrusted to your care, I will see to him,' and turning 
 on my heel I approached the dog. 
 
 He was watching me with an earnest yet dis- 
 trustful look. I spoke to him kindly, touched the 
 point of his nose with my glove, patted his head 
 and told him to follow me. The look of gratitude 
 which came into his eyes was touching. And so 
 down the avenue through the drifts we went, the 
 animal facing the worst blasts bravely and often 
 breaking a path for me. We soon reached home, 
 where I provided comfortable quarters for him, which 
 he contentedly accepted. 
 
 The new dog was a study. I could see he was 
 a dog without a pedigree ; that the blood of the 
 St. Bernard was so diluted with the alien as to be 
 almost past recognition. But I also saw that his 
 disposition and character were good. I never knew 
 an animal so hungry for human kindness. A gentle 
 word or a friendly look would win his confidence 
 instantly. Nothing seemed too hard for him to do 
 for the one who was friendly to him. He accepted 
 everything as right from those in whom he had con- 
 fidence. And he had confidence in everyone who
 
 222 Daniel Pratt 
 
 was kind. He seemed to believe thoroughly in the 
 goodness of mankind, and yet one could perceive 
 he had seen more of harshness and cruelty than of 
 kindness. Men, boys, and women, and his fellow 
 animals all were his friends. His nature seemed 
 cosmopolitan, but it was sincere. 
 
 He had been with me but a few weeks, when 
 one day I missed him. Several days passed, and 
 he did not appear. I visited the pound, but he was 
 not there. Then I gave him up as lost. About a 
 fortnight afterwards he came into my room, looking 
 most woe-begone. His coat was ruffled, his eyes 
 were downcast, and the end of his bushy tail was 
 decorated with a string to which had evidently been 
 tied that favorite plaything of a certain class of boy- 
 hood a tin can. It was plain that he expected a 
 harsh lecture ; but he received words of sympathy. 
 At first he was astonished, and then his gratitude 
 knew no bounds. He licked my hand, fawned about 
 me, and tried in every way to tell me how thankful 
 and happy he was. We made him comfortable 
 again, and he appeared perfectly contented for a few 
 more weeks. But he seemed to be born to misfor-
 
 Daniel Pratt 223 
 
 tune. The very goodness of his heart made people 
 impose upon him just as we often find it to be 
 the case in human life. I have seen men stop on 
 the street and speak enticingly to him, and as soon 
 as he came near enough kick at him savagely. He 
 would naturally recoil under such treatment ; but if 
 the same man who had just kicked him spoke again 
 in a kind manner, he would come up to him just as 
 readily as before. Under all the forms of abuse to 
 which he was subjected, I never heard him whine, 
 cry, or in any way complain. 
 
 When the time for summering came, I took 
 Daniel (I had named him Daniel Pratt, because he 
 seemed to be a "great American traveller") with 
 me to the country. He enjoyed it. Every farmer 
 and every boy for miles around our resort knew 
 Daniel and was on speaking terms with him. He 
 would be absent from the house for two or three 
 days at a time, and then suddenly appear in his usual 
 quiet and friendly fashion. 
 
 One day I was taking a long stroll, and returned 
 by way of a beautiful lake, which, hemmed in by 
 mountains, seemed like a diamond in an emerald
 
 224 Daniel Pratt 
 
 cluster. I could hear loud boyish shouts of laughter 
 long before I reached the lake ; and when at last 
 the sheet of water came into view, I could see a 
 number of boys playing with Daniel on the bank 
 opposite to where I stood. Daniel was in the water, 
 where he had evidently gone to retrieve a stick that 
 one of the boys had thrown in, and was now swim- 
 ming back toward the land. But whenever he ap- 
 proached the shore he was pelted with a shower of 
 sticks and stones, and in his attempts to avoid them 
 he was forced back into the lake again. Just as I 
 reached the bank I saw a large stone thrown by a 
 big boy strike Daniel on the head, and he sank be- 
 neath the water. The sight naturally aroused my 
 indignation. I shouted to the boys, and they looked 
 around quickly. As they did so, one of them missed 
 his footing, fell headlong into the lake, and was 
 instantly lost to sight. I knew the water was very 
 deep where he had fallen in, and I started to run 
 around the little lake to help him. 
 
 Although Daniel must have been dazed by the 
 crushing blow he had received, yet a moment later 
 he seemed to realize the situation as clearly as I did.
 
 Daniel Pratt 225 
 
 I saw him look at the spot where the boy had dis- 
 appeared, and then intently scan the water for his 
 re-appearance. There was a sudden ripple on the 
 surface, and then a matted head of hair and a strug- 
 gling pair of arms appeared. Daniel did not delay an 
 instant. I saw him swim quickly to the boy, seize 
 his coat collar at the back of the neck, and with 
 strong strokes try to tow him to the land. It was 
 a hopeless effort ; for the boy, who was large, could 
 not swim, and his weight was like lead to the sturdy 
 dog that was trying to sustain it. Then both dog and 
 boy sank beneath the surface. My heart sank with 
 them. In a moment more I had reached the spot, 
 but the surface of the lake was calm, excepting only 
 the ripples which played about the place where both 
 boy and dog had gone down together. It seemed 
 to me I counted the seconds, and that each one 
 grew longer. The frightened boys stood huddled on 
 the bank, mute and pale. The air itself seemed 
 suddenly stilled, and even the trees appeared to cease 
 their rustling. During that frightful period of sus- 
 pense, I looked earnestly at the place where the 
 boy and dog had sunk ; then my eyes swept nearer 
 
 15
 
 226 Daniel Pratt 
 
 shore. Something moving caught my gaze, and 
 there, down in the depths of the clear blue lake, I 
 saw a struggling object which seemed to come 
 nearer. Another second and the surface was broken, 
 and the head of the dog, still grimly holding his 
 charge, came into view. Though possessing no ped- 
 igree, no royal blood, the noble fellow had remained 
 faithful to his duty, to save the life of even one who 
 had abused him. He had not only held fast to his 
 charge, but had brought him ten feet nearer shore, 
 so that he was within reach of help. I sprang into 
 the water, seized the senseless lad and motioned 
 Daniel to the land. He relinquished his hold, but he 
 would not leave the water until I had safely landed 
 the drowning boy. 
 
 It was hard work reviving the lad. He had 
 been so long in the lake, and had swallowed so much 
 water, it seemed as though he never would breathe 
 again ; but I finally succeeded in restoring him to 
 consciousness. During all that time, Daniel, drip- 
 ping with water, stood looking on, as anxious as any 
 of the boy's companions; and when at last he saw the 
 lad's eyes open, he seemed beside himself with joy.
 
 Daniel Pratt 227 
 
 The father of the boy was profuse in his thanks to 
 me for saving the life of his son j but I told him his 
 thanks were due to Daniel, not to me. He declared 
 that such a dog deserved a medal ; but I am sorry to 
 relate that poor Daniel never received any further 
 acknowledgement or kindness from the father. 
 
 The uncertainty which always attached to this 
 large-hearted dog was often perplexing. While on 
 my way back to the city from the country, I missed 
 him. This had occurred so often that I looked upon 
 it as a thing to be expected. Several weeks passed, 
 when one day a friend called and informed me that 
 he had seen my dog Daniel in Montreal. The state- 
 ment seemed incredible, but I wrote a friend in that 
 city to have a search made, and eventually I received 
 the dog safely by express. He was rejoiced to see 
 me once more, but every few days he would be 
 coaxed away by kindness. My friend in Montreal 
 learned that a man of that city, who was travelling, 
 had met Daniel, had spoken kindly to him, and so 
 completely had the affectionate fellow been won by 
 the gentleness shown him that he had gone with the 
 man to Canada.
 
 228 Daniel Pratt 
 
 A little lame boy a mite of a fellow, whose 
 name even to this day I do not know came by 
 my house daily, probably on his way to school. He 
 hobbled along on crutches, and seemed very much 
 afraid of the big dog that he saw out in my yard. 
 I observed that Daniel watched the little chap with 
 great interest, and finally one day went up to him, 
 wagging his tail meanwhile. The little boy turned 
 pale with fear. There they stood eyeing one another. 
 At last Daniel put his nose against the child's hand 
 where it was holding the crutch, and licked it as if 
 with sympathy. The boy seemed to understand that 
 this meant kindness ; and so he patted Daniel's head 
 with his other hand. Such was the beginning of 
 what proved a true and eventually a tragic friendship. 
 The lame boy evidently had few playmates. The 
 other boys, who romped and shouted, could not come 
 down to the quiet ways of the little invalid. To 
 find a companion and a playmate in the form of a 
 large dog was certainly unexpected, but was just what 
 he desired. He showed his joy in all his actions. 
 So did Daniel. I have seldom seen anything more 
 remarkable than the friendship of those two creatures.
 
 Daniel Pratt 229 
 
 The dog would watch each morning at the proper 
 time for the boy's appearance. As soon as the little 
 fellow came in sight, Daniel would run to meet him 
 with a speed and force that almost seemed to put the 
 child's life in danger. But the boy always stood firm, 
 smiling pleasantly, while Daniel would pull up short 
 just in time to prevent a collision. Then the child 
 would talk to the dog, pat his head and stroke his 
 ears, and off they would go together as happy as two 
 friends could be. 
 
 Daniel appeared always anxious to help the little 
 fellow, but at first it seemed difficult to do so. One 
 day, however, as the boy stood leaning on Daniel, 
 a sudden thought seemed to come to the dog. He 
 turned and began to pull gently at one of the crutches. 
 The child, thinking it play, feebly tried to resist ; 
 but Daniel insisted upon having the crutch. He 
 then pushed his big body against the boy, who was 
 almost forced to recline upon the dog's back ; when 
 off trotted Daniel with his burden, as proud as a king. 
 The little fellow could hardly understand it at first, 
 but it seemed great fun, and he was certainly getting 
 over the ground faster than he ever had done with
 
 230 Daniel Pratt 
 
 his crutches. This was the beginning of the service 
 into which Daniel voluntarily entered. The clock 
 could hardly be more accurate than he was each day 
 when he started off to take the boy to school. I 
 knew the weight of the child upon his back was no 
 trifle, but I never saw him flinch for a moment, 
 although I have seen him lie in the shade and rest 
 all day from the fatigue which the effort had occa- 
 sioned. This, however, never prevented his going 
 promptly to carry his charge home as soon as school 
 was dismissed. 
 
 This friendship with the apparently friendless 
 child kept Daniel from wandering away with the 
 people who showed him kindness. He was just as 
 hungry for kind words and caresses as ever ; but 
 he seemed to feel that he now had a duty to per- 
 form, and he never neglected it. I had long made 
 it my practice not to interfere with his actions, for, 
 aside from his habit of wandering away, his conduct 
 was blameless. He was therefore at liberty to help 
 the lame boy as much as he chose, and right royally 
 did he do it. 
 
 One night I had been working at my desk until
 
 Daniel Pratt 231 
 
 midnight, although it seemed but little more than 
 nine o'clock. I got up, closed the desk, and deter- 
 mined to retire ; but my mind was in too active a 
 condition for sleep. A stroll of a mile in the cool 
 night air would settle matters, I thought ; and so I 
 took my coat and hat and started out. Daniel's 
 kennel was in the back yard, and as soon as he heard 
 me open the door he came bounding forward. I 
 spoke to him, patted his head, and we walked up 
 the street together. My thoughts were dancing all 
 over the surface of my brain, and try as I might I 
 could not divert them. 
 
 There were but few people on the streets, and 
 they seemed belated and to be hurrying homeward. 
 As I walked along, I heard the first stroke of the 
 fire-bell. Such sounds seldom affect me. I have 
 seen the Western plains swept by a fire as by a 
 whirlwind. I saw the great fire of Chicago, even 
 before the watchman on guard in his tower dis- 
 covered it ; and all through that terrible night I wit- 
 nessed the sights and heard the sounds which its 
 horror occasioned. All minor conflagrations have 
 never aroused me since then, except only where
 
 232 Daniel Pratt 
 
 human or animal life were concerned. But as I 
 heard the alarm this night and saw the flames a few 
 squares away, I felt that the fire might prove the 
 right diversion for me, and quiet the riot in my head. 
 I therefore turned in the direction of the flames. At 
 the next corner the engines came tearing by. 
 
 During all this time Daniel walked quietly by 
 my side, and even as we drew nearer the fire he did 
 not seem excited ; but the moment we came in sight 
 of the burning building, he raised his voice with a 
 bay of agony and dashed away from me toward the 
 crowd. I could not understand his conduct. When 
 I reached the spot I saw him rushing about among 
 the people, looking here and there, and scenting 
 every footmark. Then he ran up to me, and, seiz- 
 ing my coat, seemed to urge me to some action, 
 which I could not understand. At that moment the 
 firemen came out of the building which was a 
 tenement bringing some people who had been 
 overcome by the smoke, but who fortunately were 
 rescued in time. Daniel ran up to them, looked at 
 each one, and came back to me howling in agony. 
 ' What 's the matter, old fellow ? ' I inquired ; but
 
 Daniel seemed 
 
 . 
 
 .bension \va 
 him. Then he 
 panting face near 
 longing, in his dc< p 
 noble those great 
 
 Ala ^ sluv some-thing emerging from the smoke that 
 the la pourinjr in domls from the clooru 
 
 ment, and theiPn \! \x K KLLPPER. 
 
 burning building. 
 I Wa 
 
 , my eyes * : 
 
 ued. 
 It P 
 
 me an hour, when I I * 
 the smoke that was pourini 
 way at which I ga/rd. 1 
 gathered about it, and for
 
 Daniel Pratt 233 
 
 Daniel seemed still more frantic with excitement. 
 He tugged at my coat, he licked my hand, and sought 
 in every way to pull me toward the burning building; 
 but although my brain was just then so active, my 
 comprehension was dull and I could not understand 
 him. Then he sprang up against my chest, his 
 panting face near mine, and a world of agony, of 
 longing, in his deep brown eyes. How fine, how 
 noble those great eyes were, as even in the confu- 
 sion of the moment I could not help observing them. 
 Alas ! how little did I realize I was seeing them for 
 the last time. He gazed earnestly at me for a mo- 
 ment, and then turned and ran headlong into the 
 burning building. 
 
 I was amazed. Did the dog intend suicide ? 
 Was he crazed by the fire, as horses sometimes are ? 
 I stood motionless, my eyes fixed on the door through 
 which Daniel had disappeared. 
 
 It may have been five minutes, but it seemed to 
 me an hour, when I saw something emerging from 
 the smoke that was pouring in clouds from the door- 
 way at which I gazed. The firemen came up and 
 gathered about it, and for a moment stopped their
 
 234 Daniel Pratt 
 
 fight with the flames. Then I saw a strong fireman 
 lift a limp figure and carry it toward the group of 
 people who had just been rescued ; and then I real- 
 ized it all. The senseless creature they were carrying 
 was the lame boy Daniel's friend saved from 
 death by the one he loved. 
 
 I pushed my way through the crowd, and there 
 on the pavement, breathing hard in agony, but utter- 
 ing no sound, with every particle of hair burned from 
 his body, and his eyes closed, lay Daniel noble, 
 devoted Daniel. I spoke to him, and he heard me ; 
 but he was too weak even to raise his head. 
 
 I have many pets around my house, for I love 
 animals next to men. I also have many visitors, 
 and take pleasure in showing them these pets. My 
 friends often speak of the peculiar creatures they see 
 about my home as, for example, the screech-owl 
 (who punctuates the night as regularly as a cuckoo 
 clock, and more noisily) ; but what none of them 
 seem quite able to understand is why I keep with 
 such special care a blind, hairless dog, covered with 
 scars, and able only to limp feebly about. I have 
 never cared to explain my reasons to anyone. But
 
 Daniel Pratt 235 
 
 now that I have written this story, all will under- 
 stand that the repulsive looking dog that lives in my 
 house, and whose nature is still as kind and gentle 
 as that of a dove who loves human sympathy, who 
 never complains, and who will to-day, blind as he is, 
 do any human being a kindness is none other than 
 the faithful, loving, self-sacrificing DANIEL PRATT.
 
 A KINDERGARTEN EXPERIMENT
 
 A KINDERGARTEN EXPERIMENT. 
 
 EADER, do you love birds? 
 I do not ask if you love to 
 see them on the lawn or in 
 the trees, for it is fair to 
 assume that all refined per- 
 sons love them in that way; 
 but have you ever become 
 really attached to them and 
 learned to look upon them 
 as companions ? If so, let 
 me hope you understood and appreciated their deli- 
 cacy, their sensitiveness, and their many tender qual- 
 ities, better than I once did.- 
 
 I lived in a city 'flat'; still worse, it was a 
 bachelor's * flat.' You will naturally say that this 
 was a poor place for birds ; and I quite agree with 
 the sentiment. But if any earthly locality needs 
 cheering, demands beautifying and brightening, surely 
 it is the domicile of the man who lives alone. Feel- 
 ing something of this need, I secured as companions
 
 240 A Kindergarten Experiment 
 
 a singing canary and a beautiful bullfinch. They 
 seemed very bright and apparently happy in their new 
 brass cages quite aristocratic, in fact, although 
 I fancied now and then I could detect a note in their 
 voices that was not altogether one of contentment. 
 But we got along quite well together. My man- 
 servant was attentive enough to them, and I supple- 
 mented his efforts by little kindnesses that they 
 apparently appreciated. And yet something seemed 
 to be not quite right with them. To this day I 
 cannot tell positively what it was, and only assume 
 it was simply the want of freedom. 
 
 Cage life is necessarily an irksome, monotonous 
 existence. Carniverous animals chafe under it, even 
 when completely tamed. Why, then, should not 
 those winged creatures whose very being is freedom 
 and blitheness, who dwell in the air more than on 
 the earth, and whose free nature cannot brook con- 
 finement, have all the freedom their Creator de- 
 signed ? I can see those birds now, as they sat upon 
 their perches or hopped about the cages, trying hard 
 to be happy, but with a cloud of unrest about them 
 all the while. Poor little things !
 
 A Kindergarten Experiment 241 
 
 The habit of owning pets, like most habits, 
 seems to be progressive. I owned two birds, and 
 longed for more. But I was not certain just what 
 to procure. I did not care for a parrot a vulgar 
 and garrulous creature, whose education, both moral 
 and intellectual, requires almost more care than that 
 of a child ; a cockatoo seemed little better, except 
 that he is less gaudy ; while a mocking-bird becomes 
 in time altogether too confidential. And so I did 
 not extend the confines of my aviary. 
 
 It was while in this state of mind that I one 
 evening attended the chicken-show at Madison 
 Square Garden. I found it very interesting. What 
 kings those roosters were, and how proud and defiant ! 
 And how docile and domestic the little hens seemed, 
 even in such a strange and public place ! All of 
 these creatures were busy and alert, doing their best 
 to entertain the company, although it was far beyond 
 their usual hour for retiring. At last I came to a 
 spot that appeared to possess special attractiveness. 
 It would be hard to say whether it most resembled 
 a hospital, a foundry, or an asylum. It was the 
 incubator. I looked through the windows on the
 
 242 A Kindergarten Experiment 
 
 side, at the nicely placed (I had almost said laid) rows 
 of eggs, and wondered how many of them would 
 ever become animate. Two young fellows at my 
 side were laying wagers on the same problem ; they 
 were evidently of that class who would lay odds 
 upon anything, even whether or not the sun would 
 rise the following morning. 
 
 While I was still looking, something seemed to 
 be taking place in one of the eggs. A tiny hole in 
 the shell was visible. It enlarged, and I could see 
 a small beak working industriously for freedom, and 
 breaking away the shell that confined it. If I was 
 interested before, I became absorbed then. Not a 
 motion escaped me. Little by little the prison walls 
 gave way, and finally there appeared a funny, fluffy 
 little head, whose black eyes blinked wonderingly at 
 the world. I welcomed the little stranger most cor- 
 dially ; but doubtless the glass which separated us 
 prevented my congratulations from reaching him. 
 However, he came forth successfully, looked around, 
 and attempted to navigate the billowy sea of eggs 
 that surrounded him. The attempt was a failure.
 
 A Kindergarten Experiment 243 
 
 The falls he received would have disheartened a more 
 mature athlete than he; and yet he did not seem to 
 be at all discouraged possibly just because he was 
 so inexperienced. I felt sorry for the poor little chap, 
 and suggested to his keeper or guardian, or nurse, 
 I hardly know which, that he might perhaps be 
 emancipated to advantage. The look I received in 
 response conveyed to me that I was not an expert in 
 chicken-raising. But I held my ground, and waited. 
 It was not long before another agitation occurred in 
 another shell-prison. This second aspirant for free- 
 dom had a harder time than his companion, but I 
 was glad to see that he did not get discouraged, and 
 that eventually he succeeded in gaining his liberty. 
 Then I approached the keeper on another tack. 
 How much would he take for those two foundlings? 
 Having been a witness of their courageous entry into 
 a cold world, I naturally felt something of a god- 
 father's interest in their welfare. The man's manner 
 changed at once, and I found him ready to bargain. 
 And so, without waiting to learn the fate of the 
 remainder of the brood, I had the two little fellows
 
 244 A Kindergarten Experiment 
 
 nicely wrapped in cotton, and, with a supply of chick 
 food, stored them safely in the pocket of my great- 
 coat. And then I started for home. 
 
 The evening was chilly, and I buttoned my coat 
 up closely, guarding carefully the new charge which 
 I had assumed. At a certain corner on Fifth Avenue 
 there was a lamp post, unlighted at the time I passed. 
 What it was that caused me to glance up, I do not 
 know ; but perched upon its top sat an owl, with 
 all the quiet dignity which has caused that bird to 
 become the emblem of wisdom. I spoke to him, 
 and waved my hand aloft ; but he remained serenely 
 indifferent to all my demonstrations. Then curiosity 
 came to the front. What in the world was the bird 
 doing there ? Where had he come from ? How had 
 he penetrated to the heart of a great city, and found 
 lodgment on such a curious perch ? I did not try 
 to answer the questions then, nor have I ever done 
 so since. What I did do was to swing, by the cross 
 bar, up within reach of his owlship, quietly capture 
 him, and store him gently away in the unoccupied 
 pocket of my great-coat. -That it was an uncalled-
 
 A Kindergarten Experiment 245 
 
 for proceeding, I did not stop to think ; that he might 
 have ideas of liberty at variance with my summary 
 action, did not enter my head, any more than it does 
 that of hundreds of persons who are brutal through 
 thoughtlessness. 
 
 So here was a new responsibility, and, as I began 
 to think it over, a rather serious one. What in the 
 world was I to do with the owl ? Where was I 
 to put him ? On what should I feed him ? And, 
 for that matter, what was I to do with the quiet little 
 chickens that were still slumbering in my pocket ? 
 1 began to realize the great truth which so many 
 heads of families have learned, that it is far easier to 
 assume an obligation than to discharge it. But then, 
 I was a bachelor. 
 
 One of the rooms of the Broadway ' flat ' which 
 I occupied was an inner one, and was used for 
 storing guns, fishing-rods, and other implements of 
 carnage. An appliance closely associated with these 
 weapons was a * striking bag,' suspended from the 
 centre of the room, which I occasionally ' punched,' 
 nominally for exercise, but doubtless more for train-
 
 246 A Kindergarten Experiment 
 
 ing. Once an ill-directed blow had sent the bag 
 flying through a window between the inner room and 
 the one used as a library. Fortunately, a large pic- 
 ture, with an exceedingly heavy frame, now hung 
 directly over the window, and hence concealed the 
 fracture, which was meanwhile awaiting the attention 
 of the glazier. 
 
 It now occurred to me that this inner room would 
 be an admirable abode for my owl. In the first 
 place, it was dark ; and we all know that owls c love 
 darkness rather than light.' Then there were mice 
 there, and they naturally would furnish him with 
 food. It seemed a fortunate provision for getting rid 
 of mice without the aid of a cat, which would not 
 have been a congenial companion for the birds. In 
 fact, I thought the owl question was very happily 
 settled. How little I foresaw the outcome ! 
 
 On reaching home, I deposited Mr. Owl in the 
 inner room, upon a bracket that ran out from the 
 wall. He seemed to take to the place kindly, and, 
 so far as I could see, appeared to be contented. But 
 one should never judge from appearances especially 
 with owls. The chickens were a much harder prob-
 
 A K 
 
 lem. " 
 
 lackin 
 
 posses 
 
 . 
 
 try nr 
 but f 
 
 n to 
 
 peep 
 
 which the incubator \r- ate 
 
 greedily. But tl 
 
 4t *T^ie ( 'hiinute I took them from their box of cotton tlie\ 
 
 began to peep pitifully.' 
 DRAWING n> J. C,\RTI:R Hi ARD. 
 
 amusing to watch the:

 
 A Kindergarten Experiment 247 
 
 lem. They were, of course, new to the world, and 
 lacking in experience, such as the owl unquestionably 
 possessed ; and, what I did not realize before, but 
 soon learned, they were without a mother. All poul- 
 try men know that little chickens must be 'brooded'; 
 but then, you see, I was an amateur. The minute 
 I took them from their box of cotton they began to 
 peep pitifully. I fed them on the yolk of an egg 
 which the incubator man had given me, and they ate 
 greedily. But the moment I offered to leave them 
 they followed me like little dogs, peeping with all 
 the earnestness of homeless wanderers. I tried to 
 throw them off their guard and escape from them ; 
 but it was impossible. What was I to do ? Cer- 
 tainly I could not take them to bed with me, and 
 the hour was late. At last I put them in a large 
 pasteboard box in which I cut holes to admit air. I 
 heard them peeping away, fainter and fainter, until 
 they had apparently gone to sleep ; and then I fol- 
 lowed their example. 
 
 In the morning I found the little fellows in very 
 good condition, and with vigorous appetites. It was 
 amusing to watch the fluffy little balls of down, pick-
 
 248 A Kindergarten Experiment 
 
 ing away at their food, and apparently contented with 
 the conditions around them. But the moment I 
 attempted to go away they left their food and insisted 
 upon following me. Here was a dilemma. I needed 
 breakfast quite as badly as did my charges, and yet 
 they would not desert me any more than Mrs. 
 Micawber would her worthless spouse. It was, to 
 say the least, perplexing. After a while I managed 
 to escape from them long enough to slip into the 
 dark room to see how the owl was flourishing. It 
 was so dark I could not even see his eyes ; but upon 
 lighting the burner I found him in the same position 
 I had left him in. Apparently he had not stirred ; 
 but there was a look in his eyes I did not like. I 
 knew he had heard the chickens in the adjoining 
 room, and that they had been a sore temptation to 
 him ; but still he had not moved from his place. 
 Surely, I thought, he could not be very bloodthirsty. 
 I returned to the next room, and was received by 
 the chickens with all the joy of lost children. I saw 
 that the canary and bullfinch were well provided with 
 food and water, and then I departed. I may as well 
 confess that I drew a long breath after I reached the
 
 A Kindergarten Experiment 249 
 
 street, for I had never before assumed such heavy 
 responsibilities, especially of this kind. 
 
 I did not return home until afternoon. The 
 first thing that greeted me upon opening the door 
 was what appeared to be a snow-storm. The en- 
 tire room seemed filled with a cloud of down. It 
 floated up to the ceiling; it covered the carpet. I 
 was amazed. What could it mean ? Of course I 
 looked for the cause, and, I must confess, with a 
 beating heart and sad forebodings. There, upon 
 the table, lay the remains of my canary, headless, 
 and largely plucked. There was something pathetic 
 even in his dying attitude. I looked for the chick- 
 ens ; but the floating cloud of down was all that indi- 
 cated that they had ever existed. However thought- 
 less or heartless I may have been before, I broke 
 down then and groaned aloud. These innocent crea- 
 tures had been sacrificed through my heedlessness 
 and bad management. They were under my care 
 and protection ; I had made myself responsible for 
 their welfare and happiness, and yet I had exposed 
 them to their natural enemy. Voluntarily assuming 
 the office of guardian, I had basely betrayed my
 
 250 A Kindergarten Experiment 
 
 trust. A realization of it all came to me with crush- 
 ing force, and I was overwhelmed with a sense of 
 guilt. 
 
 When the first emotion had passed away, I 
 looked about for the perpetrator of the crime. 
 There he was, perched upon a bust of Caesar (I do 
 not possess one of Pallas) as if he had fled for 
 refuge to that ancient advocate of slaughter. What 
 could I do ? Logically, he was not to blame ; he 
 had only followed out his natural instincts, and I had 
 enabled him to do so. Investigation showed that 
 the owl had gone through the broken pane of glass, 
 pushed aside, by a strength incredible, the heavy 
 picture that hung before it, and thus reached the 
 room where both chickens and birds were domiciled. 
 The rest appeared to have been quite easy. It is 
 probable that the owl reversed the order common to 
 the animal man, and consumed his desert first. Cer- 
 tainly chicklets less than twenty-four hours old should 
 be tender enough for the most fastidious owlet. But 
 evidently his appetite had not been appeased by the 
 chickens, and he felt that a portion at least of the 
 canary was necessary.
 
 A Kindergarten Experiment 251 
 
 How the little bullfinch escaped, I could not im- 
 agine. I found him somewhat perturbed, and no 
 wonder. He had witnessed a scene of carnage in 
 which, fortunately, he was only a spectator. I felt 
 like congratulating him, but he was evidently in no 
 frame of mind for conventionalities. We were pretty 
 good friends, however, and I fancy I was able to 
 reassure him a little. How much they love sym- 
 pathy all these small inarticulate friends of ours, 
 and how little we realize it or bestow it ! Poor 
 little fellow ! he came up to the bars of the cage 
 and put his tiny head against the hand I extended. 
 He rubbed his velvet down against my roughened 
 cuticle. He even chirped a little, in a half-frightened 
 way, as if trying to tell me of the dreadful sight he 
 had witnessed. I talked to him gently, and put a 
 fresh piece of apple between the bars ; but he was 
 in no mood for dining. 
 
 And so the problem of my responsibilities had 
 narrowed. I could now concentrate my attentions 
 upon two instead of five dependent creatures ; but 
 I was not happy over the prospect. It is true I 
 might have solved the question by opening the win-
 
 252 A Kindergarten Experiment 
 
 dows and giving both birds their freedom. I thought 
 of that, but what would have been the result ? As- 
 suming that the bullfinch escaped the owl (which was 
 doubtful), how was he to exist ? He had been 
 reared as a dependent, and could not care for him- 
 self. To liberate him would have been to expose 
 him to inclement elements, to hunger, and to all the 
 enemies that swarm in air and on the earth to prey 
 upon the unprotected. No, 1 could not do that. I 
 continued, therefore, to carry out the responsibility 
 I had voluntarily assumed. It was a difficult task. 
 The little bird pined somewhat. I fancied his ner- 
 vous system had received a shock from which it 
 never fully recovered. I coaxed him with all the 
 bird delicacies of which I had ever heard, and he 
 seemed very grateful, indeed, he appeared to have 
 become especially attached to me since the death of 
 the canary ; but yet he pined. Poor little fellow! 
 It was indeed pitiful. 
 
 But to return to the owl. He, too, failed to 
 thrive. I never quite understood the cause, but I 
 could see he grew weaker and weaker. I fed him 
 carefully, and think he did not starve himself; but
 
 A Kindergarten Experiment 253 
 
 he drooped. One day, as I came in, he tried to 
 fly from his perch and fell all in a heap upon the 
 floor. I picked him up, but he could not open his 
 eyes, and, with a few spasms, and an occasional gasp, 
 he passed away. While it was a relief to me, I 
 could not help feeling sorry for the poor fellow. 
 At the same time I began to question myself as to 
 whether I was morally responsible not only for the 
 miserable life he had led, but also for his death. I 
 had made him a captive, and in captivity he perished. 
 
 At last I was reduced to one feathered pet, the 
 bright little bullfinch that had survived all his com- 
 panions. He puzzled me more and more. Appar- 
 ently he was bright enough, and usually cheerful, but 
 there was an air of sadness about him that I knew 
 was foreign to his nature. I could see he was 
 pining. I was ready to do anything in my power 
 for him, but there really seemed to be nothing for 
 me to do at least I then thought so. 
 
 One night I came in from the club, turned on 
 the lights, and looked into his cage. I did not see 
 him on his accustomed perch, and upon looking the 
 second time found him lying on the floor of his
 
 254 A Kindergarten Experiment 
 
 home. I spoke, and he instantly responded, but oh, 
 with such a feeble voice. I opened the door of his 
 cage, took him in my hand, and tenderly caressed 
 the poor little sufferer. He tried to raise his head, 
 but was too weak, and it fell back helplessly. He 
 seemed to be trying to tell me his trouble ; but in 
 vain. I knew too well he must be in agony, and 
 that relief was probably near. Peep, peep, came in 
 feeble tones, while every few moments a gentle flutter 
 of the wings showed how sensitive was the sweet 
 nature enshrined within that little frame. I could 
 feel a tremor, like that of a small electric battery, as 
 I held him in my hand, and knew the vibrations 
 were growing less and less each moment. I placed 
 him beside my cheek, where he could feel the 
 warmth of my body, and hear my voice more dis- 
 tinctly ; and there he lay, throbbing and breathing 
 less and less, but apparently conscious, and grateful 
 for my attentions. At all events he did not struggle. 
 Reader, have you ever held the head and felt 
 the pulse of one whom you loved, and knew that 
 the life current was each moment becoming slower 
 and feebler ?
 
 A Kindergarten Experiment 255 
 
 Our attachments are, and should be, more toward 
 our flesh and blood than to the dumb companions 
 about us ; but the life is the same, and the sensation 
 the same when we feel it is about to depart. 
 
 And so I lost the last of my feathered pets lost 
 them largely because I did not understand them, 
 could not comprehend their delicate and sensitive 
 natures, and hence did not properly care for them. 
 I deserve the severest blame, the most unqualified 
 censure. And yet, was I so very much worse in 
 this respect that many others who are to-day keep- 
 ing pets for their own selfish pleasure and subjecting 
 them literally to a lingering death ? Do we always 
 stop to consider, in assuming an obligation, how im- 
 portant it may be and what serious consequences it 
 may involve ? And do we always realize that, hav- 
 ing once assumed such an obligation, its moral re- 
 sponsibility can never be evaded ? How many men, 
 presumably honorable, have sold their speeders, hunt- 
 ers, or carriage horses, after they have outlived their 
 highest usefulness, regardless of the depths of humil- 
 iation and suffering to which the last days of the 
 faithful creatures may be subjected ! The enslave-
 
 256 A Kindergarten Experiment 
 
 ment of an animal places a responsibility upon the 
 master which no fine reasoning can ever evade. As 
 one who has learned these truths by a bitter experi- 
 ence that involved several innocent lives, I appeal 
 to the readers of these pages to tenderly care for 
 the creatures whose welfare they have assumed and 
 the responsibility for which they cannot escape.