ove watchful and faithful; and it will be a great satisfaction
to me to know that you have got so stout a friend by your side."
There stood Solon with a new chain and collar, with my name engraved on
it. He was wagging his tail, and looking up with a pleased expression
in our faces, as if he was fully aware of what had been said, and was
perfectly ready to undertake the charge committed to him. He was an old
friend of mine, and would follow me as readily as he would Henry if I
let him loose, so that he possibly did not consider that he was about to
change masters. He was a very intelligent and powerful dog, a cross
between a mastiff and a Newfoundland dog. He was born in the island of
Portland, in Dorsetshire, his immediate ancestors having belonged to
some of the free trading population of that district, and employed in
the not very creditable occupation of carrying casks of spirits and
small bales of silks and laces into the interior, past the revenue
officers stationed there to prevent smuggling. So sagacious were those
dogs that they knew the appearance of a coastguardsman at a great
distance, and employed every stratagem to avoid him, so that they were
seldom captured or shot. Dogs trained in the same way are employed by
the contrabandists to carry smuggled goods across the frontiers of both
France and Portugal into Spain, in which country the high duties make
smuggling a profitable business. We had called Henry's dog Solon, from
the sagacity he displayed in everything in which he was called on to
take a part.
"The very thing, of all others, I am delighted to have," I exclaimed,
wringing Henry's hand. "I would rather have had you; but next to you, I
think Solon is likely to prove as true a friend as any one I shall meet
with. Dear old Solon, you will stick by me, I know, and help me to find
out Alfred, won't you? That I know you will, old fellow." Solon, as I
spoke to him, wagged his tail and licked my hand, and looked up in my
face, as if he thoroughly understood all I was saying.
Henry Raymond that day accompanied me and Herbert home, to assist, as he
said, in carrying my presents. My mother was much affected by the
kindness of my school-fellows, and more especially with the liberality
and consideration of our master, when Herbert told her that he was to go
back and attend school regularly as before.
"Your father was very kind, and procured me many pupils," he remarked.
"You need not consider y
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