nted, must
come the black time when we shall essay a task which once we could
accomplish with ease;--only to find its achievement has passed forever
beyond our waning powers. And so, this day, was it with Sunnybank Lad.

Of yore, such a grip as he now secured would have ham strung or
otherwise maimed its victim and left her wallowing helpless. But the
dull teeth merely barked the leg's tough skin. And a spasmodic jerk
ripped it loose from the dog's hold.

Lad barely had time to spring aside, to dodge the wheeling sow. He was
panting heavily. His wounds were hurting and weakening him. His wind
was gone. His heart was doing queer things which made him sick and
dizzy. His strength was turning to water. His courage alone blazed high
and undimmed.

Not once did it occur to him to seek safety in flight. He must have
known the probable outcome. For Lad knew much. But the great heart did
not flinch at the prospect. Feebly, yet dauntlessly, he came back to
the hopeless battle. The Mistress was in danger. And he alone could
help.

No longer able to avoid the rushes, he met some of them with
pathetically useless jaws; going down under others and rising with ever
greater slowness and difficulty. The sow's ravening teeth found a goal,
more than once, in the burnished mahogany coat which the Mistress
brushed every day with such loving care. The pronged hoofs had twice
more cut him as he strove to roll aside from their onslaught after one
of his heavy tumbles.

The end of the fight seemed very near. Yet Lad fought on. To the
attack, after each upset or wound, he crawled with deathless courage.

The Mistress, at Lad's first charge, had stepped back. But, at once she
had caught up again the stick and belabored the sow with all her frail
muscular might. She might as well have been beating the side of a
concrete wall. Heedless of the flailing, the sow ignored her; and
continued her maddened assault on Lad. The maids, attracted by the
noise, crowded the front doorway; clinging together and jabbering. To
them the Mistress called now for the Master's shotgun, from the study
wall, and for a handful of shells.

She kept her head; though she saw she was powerless to save the dog she
loved. And her soul was sick within her at his peril which her puny
efforts could not avert.

Running across the lawn, toward the house, she met half way the maid
who came trembling forth with the gun and two shells. Without stopping
to glance at the cart