28 WILD FLOWERS OF THE PACIFIC COAST. 



patted him on the head and he again turned toward the trees. 

 I stood still, and when he turned and saw me standing, he 

 howled most piteously. I went toward him. He immediately 

 went on, turning every instant to look at me. I could not 

 understand the dog, but followed him. When he saw me 

 coming he commenced his old playful manner. Suddenly he 

 stopped and lay down. Directly in front of him I saw a 

 beautiful vine of wild verbena. 



I can not tell you my astonishment. I looked at the verbena, 

 then at the dog, who had stretched himself out as if intending to 

 remain. I seated myself beside him, and the three hours I spent 

 in making my painting of this, the finest specimen I have ever 

 seen of wild verbena, the faithful animal never left me, but 

 remained quiet, sometimes asleep, sometimes looking at my hand 

 as it applied the colors. 



When finished he came with me to the hotel. I went to the 

 office to inquire if any one knew the dog; when they came out to 

 look at him he had gone. 



I walked again on the beach the next morning, in hopes of 

 seeing my kind companion of the day before, but he did not come. 

 I went to the place I had first seen him and called, but he was 

 not to be seen. I inquired of some small boys who I felt sure 

 would know him from my description. No, they never "See no 

 such cur." "He is not a cur," I answered, " but a beautiful, 

 intelligent dog." " Well, maybe he be, but we ain't seen him." 



It was with much regret I left Long Beach without again 

 seeing the best friend I met while there. 



