60 OUR DICK. 



mate is falling somewhat into the sear, 

 the yellow leaf; hisjourneyings are about 

 over. We notice that he is more sedate; 

 less blithesome and merry than in the old 

 days, and now and then we find a dog's 

 small tooth on the carpet; but his sturdy 

 trust in his friends, and fondness for those 

 who love him, seem to grow stronger as 

 the parting time comes nearer. Since 

 our Dick carried his owner's name he 

 has never been struck by the hand of 

 man, and, like those birds of the untrav- 

 eled islands old voyagers write of, which 

 light on men's shoulders and take food 

 from their hands, he sees a friend in 

 every human face. 



Ours is a childless home; the music 

 of children's laughter, which we some- 

 times fancy echoes from its walls, comes 

 from a heavenly choir. Believe it not 



