pointed it at him I was in such a tremble that I
couldn't aim straight. I tried three or four times to get steady, the
dog standin' as still as still all the while, except that he kep'
waggin' his tail.

"All of a sudden I sees 'the Shepherd,' plain as plain. He were standin'
just behind the old dog, strokin' his head. 'Shoot, Snarley,' he sez;
'shoot, and we'll look after him.' 'Stand back, then, Master,' I sez;
'for I'm goin' to fire.' 'Fire,' he sez; 'but aim lower. The shot won't
hurt _me_,' and he went on strokin' the dog's head. So I pulls the
trigger, and when the smoke cleared 'the Shepherd' were gone, and the
dog were lyin' dead as any stone."

THE DEATH OF SNARLEY BOB

"He'd a rough tongue, sir; but he'd a good 'eart," said the widow of
Snarley Bob. "Oh, sir, but he were a wonderful man, were my master. I
never knowed one like him--no, nor never 'eard o' one. I didn't think on
it while he were living; but now' he's gone I know what I've lost. That
clever! Why, he often used to say to me. 'Polly, there ain't a bit of
blessed owt as I couldn't do, if I tried.' And it were true, sir. And
him nothing but a shepherd all his life, and never earned more'n
eighteen shillin' a week takin' it all the year round. And us wi' a
family of thirteen children, without buryin' one on 'em, and all married
and doin' well. And only one fault, sir, and that not so bad as it is in
some. He _would_ have his drop of drink--that is, whenever he could get
it. Not that he spent his wages on it, except now and then after the
children was growed up. But you see, sir, he was that amusin' in his
talk, and folks used to treat him.

"Well, sir, it was last Saturday fortnight, as I was tellin' you, he
come home for the last time. I can see 'im now, just as he come
staggerin' in at that door. I thought when I saw him that he'd had a
drop o'drink, though he'd not been 'avin' any for a long time. So I sez
to myself, 'I'd better make 'im a cup o' tea,' and I begins puttin' the
kettle on the fire. 'What are you doin'?' he sez. 'I'm goin' to give you
a cup o' tea,' I sez; 'It'll do yer good.' 'No, it won't,' he sez, 'I've
done wi' cups o' tea in this world.' 'Why,' I sez, 'what rubbish! 'Ere,
sit yer down, and let me pull yer boots off.' 'You can pull 'em off,' he
sez 'but ye'll never see me put 'em on again.'

"I could see by this that it wasn't drink besides I couldn't smell any.
So I gets 'im into his chair and begins pullin' his boo