THE DOG “PILLS.” I 1 9 
you may eat it. I never take life for such car- 
nivorous purposes ! All must die some time ; I 
only shorten the period of consciousness that I 
may give their forms a perpetual memory ; and, 
I leave it to you, which is the more cruel ? to kill 
to eat, or kill to immortalize ? ” 
All the candidates for her skill in this direc- 
tion were not specimens of scientific value. 
Occasionally a fine owl or other bird would be 
shot by some one who wished it mounted for 
themselves or friends, and would bring it to her. 
Sometimes a pet would come to an untimely end, 
and the grief in its circle of human admirers 
would demand its preservation. This was the 
case with “Pills” 
Those who have never seen her collection may 
be pleased to know that “ Pills ” is the dog of 
which H. H. speaks — a black-and-tan terrier, 
about whose condition there is still no end of 
dispute. 
“ Is that air dog alive, or not ? ” was a common 
Centennial form of the question. Here are a few 
of its variations : 
“ Do see that little dog ! He lies so still there 
among those stuffed animals, I almost thought 
he was stuffed too ! ” 
“ Maybe he is,” and a parasol handle is care- 
fully applied to his body. “As true as you live ! 
He is as dead as a door-nail ! ” 
