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le, thin, little puppy came behind me, and gently pulled my coat. On turning round to ask him what he wanted, he begged me in the most imploring tone to come and see his father, who was very ill. "And who is your father, little pup?" I inquired. "His name is Lupo," said the thin dog, in a trembling voice. "Lupo!" I cried out in surprise. "But do you not know who I am, and that I am forced to be your father's greatest enemy?" "I know, I know," the pup replied; "but father told me to come and seek _you_, for that you were good, and would not harm him, if you knew he was so miserable." And here the little dog began howling in a way which moved me. "Go on," I said, after a moment; "go on; I will follow you." As the little dog ran before, through some of the low and miserable parts of the city, the idea once came into my head that perhaps this was a scheme of Lupo's to get me into his power. But the puppy's grief had been too real to allow me to believe, young as he was, that he could be acting a part; so with a stout resolution I went forward. We arrived at a low and dirty kennel, where only the greatest misery could bear to live. We passed through a hole, for so it appeared, rather than a doorway, and I found myself in a little room, lit by a break in the wall. On the single poor bed lay a wretched object, gasping for breath, while a ragged pup, somewhat older than my little guide, had buried his face in the clothes at the bottom of the bed. Three other tiny creatures, worn to the bone with poverty and want of food, came crowding round me, in a way that was piteous to behold; and with their looks, not words, for they said nothing, asked me to do something for their miserable parent. I procured from a neighbouring tavern a bason of broth with which I succeeded in reviving the once terrible Lupo; but it was only a flash before life departed for ever. In broken words, he recommended to my care the poor little objects round. Bad as he was, he still had feeling for them, and it was easy to observe that at this sad moment his thoughts were more of _them_ than of himself; for when I promised to protect them, he pressed my paw with his remaining strength to his hot lips, moaned faintly, and expired. [Illustration: CONSOLATION] My tale is over. Would that it had been more entertaining, more instructive. But the incidents of my career have been few, and my path, with the one or two exceptions I have described, has
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