hing at all; for try as I might,
I was never able to make anything out of it at all.

Other times I lay on the floor in the mistress's work-room and slept, she
gently using me for a foot-stool, knowing it pleased me, for it was a
caress; other times I spent an hour in the nursery, and got well tousled
and made happy; other times I watched by the crib there, when the baby
was asleep and the nurse out for a few minutes on the baby's affairs;
other times I romped and raced through the grounds and the garden with
Sadie till we were tired out, then slumbered on the grass in the shade of
a tree while she read her book; other times I went visiting among the
neighbor dogs--for there were some most pleasant ones not far away, and
one very handsome and courteous and graceful one, a curly-haired Irish
setter by the name of Robin Adair, who was a Presbyterian like me, and
belonged to the Scotch minister.

The servants in our house were all kind to me and were fond of me, and
so, as you see, mine was a pleasant life. There could not be a happier
dog that I was, nor a gratefuller one. I will say this for myself, for
it is only the truth: I tried in all ways to do well and right, and
honor my mother's memory and her teachings, and earn the happiness that
had come to me, as best I could.

By and by came my little puppy, and then my cup was full, my happiness
was perfect. It was the dearest little waddling thing, and so smooth and
soft and velvety, and had such cunning little awkward paws, and such
affectionate eyes, and such a sweet and innocent face; and it made me so
proud to see how the children and their mother adored it, and fondled it,
and exclaimed over every little wonderful thing it did. It did seem to
me that life was just too lovely to--

Then came the winter. One day I was standing a watch in the nursery.
That is to say, I was asleep on the bed. The baby was asleep in the
crib, which was alongside the bed, on the side next the fireplace. It
was the kind of crib that has a lofty tent over it made of gauzy stuff
that you can see through. The nurse was out, and we two sleepers were
alone. A spark from the wood-fire was shot out, and it lit on the slope
of the tent. I suppose a quiet interval followed, then a scream from the
baby awoke me, and there was that tent flaming up toward the ceiling!
Before I could think, I sprang to the floor in my fright, and in a second
was half-way to the door; but in the next half-s