flower-garden;" so I could not reasonably grumble; but his speech showed the change in my position, and I walked away from the closed gate with my mind much oppressed, and my tail between my legs.

I intended to go and meditate in the boat, but here again I was disappointed; the boat-house was locked; I had no resource but to jump into the water and swim to a little island in which Lily had a favourite arbour. There in a summer's day she often rested, hidden in jessamine and honeysuckle; and there I now took refuge, attracted to the spot by its strong association with herself.

I scarcely know whether I sought the arbour with the hope of finding her present, or the intention of mourning her absent; but I went to think about her. Alas! that was all I could do. She was not there. A book of hers had been left unheeded on the ground, and I laid down and placed my paws upon it to guard it, as I had often done before. In this position I fell asleep, and remained unconscious of fortunes or misfortunes, till I was awakened by dreaming of dinner. That dream could be realised. I jumped up, shook myself, and yawned more comfortably than I had done all day.

On moving my paws from Lily's book, it struck me that it would be right to carry it home to her; and then once more the hope revived of finding her at home herself. It was the most likely thing in the world that she should come home to dinner. Everybody did, I supposed; I was going home to dinner myself.

With the book in my mouth, I swam across the water. Perhaps I did not keep it quite dry, but I carried it into the house, and laid it down before the gardener and his wife, who were the only persons I could see on the premises.

"Well, that is sensible, I must confess," said the gardener. "The dumb animal has found missy's book, and brought it back. Miss Lily would like to hear that."

"Ah, she always thought a deal of the creature," replied his wife; "and for her sake he shan't be neglected. Here's your dinner, Captain."

"Give him that bone," said the gardener; "that's what he'll like."

So they gave me a charming bone, quite to my taste; and for a time I forgot all my anxieties in the pleasure of turning it round, sucking, biting, pawing, and growling over it. I cared for no other dinner; indeed I never could understand how people could trouble themselves to eat anything else as long as there was a bone to gnaw. But it is fortunate there are various tastes in the world; and the strange preference of men for other food is convenient for us dogs, as it leaves us in more undisputed possession of the bones than if our masters liked gnawing them too.

But the pleasure of a bone does not last for ever, and among the nobler races of animals Thought cannot be entirely kept under by eating. I have heard that greedy human beings sometimes reduce themselves to the condition of pigs, who are entirely devoted to cramming; but I should not choose to degrade myself to that level. So I soon began meditating, and cogitating, and speculating again.

My life now grew every day more and more dismal. Dinner-time brought its bone, but bones soon failed to comfort me. The gardener said I was "off my feed," and his wife feared I should mope to death. All day I wandered about looking for Lily, and at night retired to my kennel, under the sad impression that she was farther off than ever. The gardener himself once invited me into the flower-garden in hopes of amusing me, and I explored all the gravel-walks, carefully avoiding the borders; but there was no trace of my lost Lily, and I never cared to visit it again.

One day I thought I would search the house. It was thrown open to me. There were no forbidden drawing-rooms now; I prowled about as I pleased. If the doors were shut, I might scratch as long as I liked; nobody answered. If open, I walked round and round the room, brushing the wainscot with my tail. There were no china ornaments to be thrown down now, and I might whisk it about as I would. Formerly I had often wished for free entrance to those rooms; now I should have welcomed a friendly hand that shut me out of them. In passing before a large mirror, I marvelled at my own forlorn and neglected appearance. Once, I was worth looking at in a glass; now, what a difference! Sorrow had so changed my whole aspect, that I stared with dismay at the gaunt spectre which stared at me in return, and we howled at each other for company.