WHISTLE SOFTLY. 
12 1 
glaring eyes and ferocious jaws, just ready to 
spring at me, I should have smiled and said, 
“Well done!” Had there been a rattlesnake 
coiled, with head erect, and black tongue darting 
in and out, I should have taken hold of it, and 
asked “ how she got the motion ? ” There wasn’t 
a wild beast existing, so dangerous or so rare, 
that I shouldn’t have known it was stuffed if I had 
seen it there; but a dog, just an ordinary black- 
and-tan dog, I wasn’t prepared for that! Nor 
were my friends, when afterward it lay under the 
hat-rack in my hall. There had been an enter- 
tainment, and “ Pills ” had made a successful debut 
on the stage. After the performance he sojourned 
with me for a while, and occupied the position 
indicated. It was summer, and the door usually 
stood open. There was no end to the amusement 
afforded the family over callers, for the majority 
of them took care, before announcing themselves, 
to whistle softly and soothingly to that canine, 
patting themselves meantime in a manner most 
ludicrous to those who knew the secret. 
Mrs. Maxwell designated “Pills” “a monu- 
ment to man’s inconstancy.” His master, a 
druggist, was deeply affected by his death, and 
ordered his preservation with emotion in his 
voice, but before his pet was ready to leave her 
care, he had recovered from his grief and failed 
to call for him. So poor “ Pills ” laid about 
