BILLY AND HANS 



Billy dead, still warm, and sitting up 

 in his box of fresh hay in the attitude 

 of making his toilet; for to the last 

 he would wash his face and paws, 

 and comb out his tail, even when his 

 strength no longer sufficed for more 

 than the mere form of it. I am not 

 ashamed to say that I wept like a 

 child. 



The dear little creature had been 

 to me not merely a pet to amuse my 

 vacant hours, though many of those 

 most vacant which the tired brain 

 passes in its sleepless nights had been 

 diverted by his pretty ways as he 

 shared my bed, and by his singular 

 devotion to me ; but he had been as 

 a door open into the world of God's 

 lesser creatures, an apostle of pity 

 and tenderness for all living things, 

 and his memory stands on the eternal 

 threshold, nodding and beckoning to 



