OUR DOGS. 129 



on board the Africa to come home, with our two pets, 

 which had to be handed over to the butcher, and slept on 

 quarters of mutton and sides of beef, till they smelt of tal 

 low and grew fat in a most vulgar way. 



At last both of them were safely installed in the brown 

 stone cottage in Andover, and Rag was presented to a 

 young lady to whom he had been sent as a gift from 

 England, and to whom he attached himself with the most 

 faithful devotion. 



Both dogs insisted on having their part of the daily 

 walks and drives of their young mistresses ; and, when they 

 observed them putting on their hats, would run, and bark, 

 and leap, and make as much noise as a family of children 

 clamoring for a ride. 



After a few months, Florence had three or four little 

 puppies. Very puny little things they were ; and a fierce, 

 nervous little mother she made. Her eyes looked blue as 

 burnished steel, and if anybody only set foot in the room 

 where her basket was, her hair would bristle, and she 

 would bark so fiercely as to be quite alarming. For all 

 that, her little ones proved quite a failure, for they were 

 all stone-blind. In vain we waited and hoped and watched 

 for nine days, and long after; the eyes were glazed and 

 dim, and one by one they died. The last two seemed to 

 promise to survive, and were familiarly known in the family 

 circle by the names of Milton and Beethoven. 

 H 



