216 BUFFALO LAND. 



dog that has grown up to mind his duty of watchin' 

 the family, howl when he sees Death sittin' on the 

 window sill, a starin' within, and preparin' to snatch 

 some darlint away ? Ah, but their second sight is a 

 wonderful gift though ! 



" The name of my dog, your honors, was Groblin, 

 an' he came to us in a queer sort of way, just like a 

 goblin should. There was a hard storm along the 

 coast, an' the next mornin' a broken yawl drifted in, 

 half full of water, with a dead man washin' about in 

 it, an' a half-drowned pup squattin' on the back seat. 

 Me an' my cousin buried the man, an' the other beast 

 I brought up. May be there was somethin' in this 

 distress that he got into so young that he could n't 

 outgrow. Even the priest used to notice it, and say 

 the poor creature had a sort of touch of the melan- 

 choly; an' sure, he never was a joyful dog. Smart 

 an' true he was, but, faith, he was n't never happy ; 

 yez might pat him to pieces, an' get never a wag of 

 the tail for it. He delighted in wakes and buryins, 

 an' when a neighborin' gamekeeper died, he howled 

 for a whole day an' a night, though the man had shot 

 at him twenty times. Mighty few men, your honors, 

 with a dozen slugs in their skin, would have stood on 

 the edge of a man's grave that shot them, an' mourned 

 when the earth rattled on the box the way Goblin, 

 poor beast, did then. Ah, nobody knows what dogs 

 can see with their wonderful second sight. That beast 

 thought an' studied out things better than half the 

 men ye'll find ; an' it 's my belief that dogs did so be- 

 fore, an' they have done it since, an' they always 

 will." 



