essly gay spirit and loyal heart were undimmed by age.

Laddie resented angrily his new limitations. From time to time he would
forget them; and would set off at a run in the wake of Bruce and Wolf,
when the sound of a stranger's approach made them gallop up the
driveway to investigate. But always; after the first few stiff bounds,
he would come to a panting halt and turn back wearily to his resting
place in the veranda's coolest corner; as indignant over his own
weakness, as he would have been at fetters which impeded his limbs.

He was more and more sensitive about this awkward feebleness of his.
And he sought to mask it; in ways that seemed infinitely pathetic to
the two humans who loved him. For instance, one of his favorite romps
in bygone days had been to throw himself down in front of the Mistress
and pretend to bite her little feet; growling terrifically as he did
it. Twice of late, as he had been walking at her side, his footing had
slipped or he had lost his balance, and had tumbled headlong Instantly,
both times, he had begun to growl and had bitten in mock fury at the
Mistress's foot. By this pitiful ruse he strove to make her believe
that his fall had been purposeful and a part of the olden game.

But worst of all he missed the long walks on which, from puppyhood, he
had always accompanied the Mistress and the Master. Unknown to the old
dog, these walks had been shortened, mercifully, and slowed down, to
accommodate themselves to Lad's waning strength: But the time came when
even a half-mile, at snail-pace, over a smooth road, was too much for
his wind and endurance.

Nowadays, when they were going for a walk, Lad was first lured into the
house and left there. The ruse did not fool him, any more than it would
have deceived a grown man. And his feelings were cruelly hurt at every
instance of this seeming defection on the part of his two worshiped
human chums.

"He still enjoys life," mused the Master, one day in late summer, as he
and the Mistress sat on the veranda, with Lad asleep at their feet.
"And he can still get about a bit. His appetite is good, and he drowses
happily for a good deal of the day; and the car-rides are still as much
fun for him as ever they were. But when the time comes--and he's
breaking fast, these past few months--when the time comes that life is
a misery to him--"

"I know," interposed the Mistress, her voice not quite steady. "I know.
Do you suppose I haven't been thinking a