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- 



