SO- NATURALIST'S CABINET. 



The merchant and his dug. 



forme! but there is no time to lose; I myself 

 may become the victim if I spare him." 



" With these words, he drew a pistol from his 

 pocket, and, with a trembling hand, took aim at 

 his faithful servant. He turned away in agony 

 as he fired, but his aim was too sure. The poor 

 animal fell wounded; and, weltering in his blood, 

 still endeavoured to crawl towards his master, as 

 if to tax him with ingratitude. The merchant 

 could not bear the sight; he spurred on his horse 

 with a heart foil of sorrow, and lamented he had 

 taken a journey which had cost him so dear. 

 Still, however, the money never entered his mind ; 

 he only thought of his poor dog, and tried to 

 console himself with the reflection, that he had 

 prevented a greater evil, by dispatching a mad 

 animal, than he had suffered a calamity by his 

 loss. This opiate to his wounded spir.it, how- 

 ever, was ineffectual : " I am most unfortunate," 

 said he to himself, " I had almost rather have 

 lost my money than my dog." Saying this, he 

 stretched out his hand to grasp his treasure. It 

 was missing.; no bag was to be found. In an 

 instant, he opened his eyes to his rashness and 

 folly. "Wretch that I am ! I alone am to blame ! 

 I could not comprehend the admonition which my 

 innocent and most faithful friend gave me, and I 

 have sacrificed him for his zeal. He only wished, 

 to inform me of my mistake, and he has paid for 

 his fidelity with his life." 



" Instantly he turned his horse, and went oil 



