CALVIN: A STUDY OF CHARACTER. 193 



geiitly ; she was never certain that he was 

 what he appeared to be. 



When I returned they had laid Calvin on 

 a table in an upper chamber by an open 

 window. It was February. He reposed in 

 a candle-box, lined about the edge with ever- 

 green, and at his head stood a little wine- 

 glass with flowers. He lay with his head 

 tucked down in his arms, a favorite posi- 

 tion of his before the fire, as if asleep in 

 the comfort of his soft and exquisite fur. 

 It was the involuntary exclamation of those 

 who saw him, " How natural he looks ! " 

 As for myself, I said nothing. John buried 

 him under the twin hawthorn-trees, one 

 white and the other pink, in a spot where 

 Calvin was fond of lying and listening to 

 the hum of summer insects and the twitter 

 of birds. 



Perhaps I have failed to make appear the 

 individuality of character that was so evi- 

 dent to those who knew him. At any rate, 

 I have set down nothing concerning him but 

 the literal truth. He was always a mystery. 



