MARY AND DOG CARLO. 



Little Mary and her great black Newfoundland dog, Carlo, 

 were a very familiar picture to me. 



I often stopped to look at them as they ran about the yard. If 

 it was a warm afternoon they lay asleep under the large evergreer: 

 trees. Mary's light curls 

 made a lovely contrast to 

 Carlo's shag-o-y black n .<> J^ 



Bides. His loving gentleness made him seem as good as he was 

 handsome. 



Little Mary had a naughty habit of running away from home, and 

 when she did this Carlo would not leave her for a moment. He 

 seemed to try to get her home again. He ran before her, keeping 



