276 EVERSLEY GARDENS 



ask for one and another of his favourites, or bid 

 the singers listen to the chirring of the night- 

 jar, or hold up a hand to point out the stealthy 

 flight of a white barn-owl. 



The natterjacks have gone. So has the slow- 

 worm. Black and tabby cats have taken the 

 place of the white ones that peopled the stables. 



But in the garden under the Fir trees, a 

 little square stone still marks the grave of 

 the beloved Dandy Dinmont, my father's de- 

 voted companion and friend ; the inscription 

 he wrote still fresh upon it : 



"DANDY, 1849-61. Fideli Fidetes" 



While but a few yards away, close to the 

 garden he made, in the churchyard he planted, 

 shaded by the Fir trees he loved a living 

 presence still to those who knew him, helper 

 and comforter still to thousands who never 

 saw his face, faithful to the end to his 

 Church, to his ideals, to his fellow-man, 

 Dandy's master rests. 



