ough. All the hard spots to which
one's memory turns the old fellow has shared, though he says so little
about it.

This love of animals was no vagrant mood. Fifteen years before in South
Africa he wrote in his diary under date of September 11th, 1900:

I wish I could introduce you to the dogs of the force. The genus dog
here is essentially sociable, and it is a great pleasure to have them
about. I think I have a personal acquaintance with them all. There
are our pups--Dolly, whom I always know by her one black and one white
eyebrow; Grit and Tory, two smaller gentlemen, about the size of a pound
of butter--and fighters; one small white gentleman who rides on a horse,
on the blanket; Kitty, the monkey, also rides the off lead of the forge
wagon. There is a black almond-eyed person belonging to the Royal
Scots, who begins to twist as far as I can see her, and comes up in long
curves, extremely genially. A small shaggy chap who belongs to the Royal
Irish stands upon his hind legs and spars with his front feet--and lots
of others--every one of them "a soldier and a man". The Royal Scots have
a monkey, Jenny, who goes around always trailing a sack in her hand,
into which she creeps if necessary to obtain shelter.

The other day old Jack, my horse, was bitten by his next neighbor; he
turned SLOWLY, eyed his opponent, shifted his rope so that he had a
little more room, turned very deliberately, and planted both heels in
the offender's stomach. He will not be run upon.

From a time still further back comes a note in a like strain. In 1898 he
was house physician in a children's hospital at Mt. Airy, Maryland, when
he wrote:

A kitten has taken up with a poor cripple dying of muscular atrophy who
cannot move. It stays with him all the time, and sleeps most of the
day in his straw hat. To-night I saw the kitten curled up under the
bed-clothes. It seems as if it were a gift of Providence that the little
creature should attach itself to the child who needs it most.

Of another child:

The day she died she called for me all day, deposed the nurse who was
sitting by her, and asked me to remain with her. She had to be held up
on account of lack of breath; and I had a tiring hour of it before she
died, but it seemed to make her happier and was no great sacrifice. Her
friends arrived twenty minutes too late. It seems hard that Death will
not wait the poor fraction of an hour, but so it is.

And here are some lette