last effort he will lick your hand, with his 

 last look he will bid you good-bye, and his 

 last sigh, as his heart ceases to beat, will be 

 one of gratitude and love. 



II. A GALLERY OF FRIENDS 



S AS I look back through the long avenue 

 of memory I can see many shapes of dogs 

 sporting in and out of the trees or pacing 

 soberly enough by my side, a joyous and 

 faithful company such as any dog-lover, I 

 believe, can summon to his mind when the 

 mood is on him. That, indeed, is one of the 

 few compensations we have for the shortness 

 of the lives of dogs. They become consecrated 

 in memory and glorified in thought, living 

 constantly in the hearts of the masters for 

 whom they would gladly have given even 

 the short term of life permitted by the fates. 

 How they revelled and frolicked and spent 

 themselves in our service, rejoicing in life 

 because it gave them our society. And 

 now 

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