er having made such a sally soon surprised
us. Whether he missed the occupation of looking after the work-people
and guarding the line, or whether he only understood dialectical
Italian, certain it is that he proved a most inert, taciturn dog. He
would wander about for weeks in listless despondency, doing nothing
for his living, and showing no intelligence except in the way of
hiding bones. Although really young, his extreme slowness and apathy
conveyed the idea of an old dog. He crept sluggishly along in search
of some sunny nook where he might snooze in his melancholy. Now, it
fell to Moidel's duty to feed this silent, heavy dog, whereupon he,
rising gradually out of his secret woes, became her constant docile
companion, following her seriously and silently like a shadow, and
looking gravely mortified when she refused his attendance at church.
He disliked the least approach to a liberty, and, showing no interest
in what passed around him, was regarded by the family rather as a
pensioner than an active, useful member of the community.

With E----'s arrival, however, a strange though gradual change came
over Moro. He seemed from the first to perceive the strong sympathy
which she possessed for all dumb creatures; and had he been the
spellbound mortal of the fairy tale the transformation could hardly
have been more remarkable. As he felt he was no longer unappreciated
or misunderstood, he began to divide his attentions between Moidel
and his new friend. He became lively and active, condescending to
take walks in any direction but Bruneck--a place which, for some
inscrutable reason, he persistently avoided. He took to opening his
huge mouth and uttering a sonorous bark; unfurled his tail, which,
losing its stiffness, wagged incessantly; whilst, developing his
liveliness still more, he actually took to committing flying leaps
over a five-barred gate, and running wildly backward and forward in
the most ludicrous manner in front of the house whenever he perceived
his favorite E---- or some of her friends watching him.

Autumn had stepped in with the month of September. The harvest
was carried, and, according to an old custom, the village held a
thanksgiving service before the sowing of the seed-corn began; and,
whilst all were generous to their relations, none showed greater
hospitality than the worthy Hofbauer, who expected not only all his
own connexions, but also those of his dead wife, to share in the
annual jubilee.