n
working in him; I hadn't the same confidence; I hadn't any idea where to
turn to raise all that bullion, and I said so. I think he was ashamed of
me, privately, because of my weak faith. He told me to give myself no
uneasiness, no concern; and said in a simple, confident, and
unquestioning way, "the Lord will provide." I saw that he fully believed
the Lord would provide, but it seemed to me that if he had had my
experience--

But never mind that; before he was done with me his strong faith had had
its influence, and I went forth from the place almost convinced that the
Lord really would provide.

I wandered around the streets for an hour, trying to think up some way
to get that money, but nothing suggested itself. At last I lounged into
the big lobby of the Ebbitt House, which was then a new hotel, and sat
down. Presently a dog came loafing along. He paused, glanced up at me
and said, with his eyes, "Are you friendly?" I answered, with my eyes,
that I was. He gave his tail a grateful little wag and came forward and
rested his jaw on my knee and lifted his brown eyes to my face in a
winningly affectionate way. He was a lovely creature--as beautiful as a
girl, and he was made all of silk and velvet. I stroked his smooth brown
head and fondled his drooping ears, and we were a pair of lovers right
away. Pretty soon Brigadier-General Miles, the hero of the land, came
strolling by in his blue and gold splendors, with everybody's admiring
gaze upon him. He saw the dog and stopped, and there was a light in his
eye which showed that he had a warm place in his heart for dogs like
this gracious creature; then he came forward and patted the dog and
said,

"He is very fine--he is a wonder; would you sell him?"

I was greatly moved; it seemed a marvellous thing to me, the way
Clinton's prediction had come true. I said,

"Yes."

The General said,

"What do you ask for him?"

"Three dollars."

The General was manifestly surprised. He said,

"Three dollars? Only three dollars? Why, that dog is a most uncommon
dog; he can't possibly be worth leas than fifty. If he were mine, I
wouldn't take a hundred for him. I'm afraid you are not aware of his
value. Reconsider your price if you like, I don't wish to wrong you."

But if he had known me he would have known that I was no more capable of
wronging him than he was of wronging me. I responded with the same quiet
decision as before,

"No--three dollars. That is his price."