to part with my faithful dog, as he is too large to be kept
in a city house.'

"The animal was present, and heard him say this, and must have
understood what was meant, for he disappeared that very evening, and was
never afterwards heard from."

Minnie was silent a few minutes when her cousin ceased reading, and
then said, half crying,--

"I'm afraid Leo will go away, for I told him I did not love him."

Ida gayly approached the window, expecting to see the dog, as usual at
this hour, sunning himself in front of the stable; but as she did not,
she offered to go and find him. She had scarcely reached the hall when
she met him coming up the stairs. He looked wishfully in her face, and
then went to Minnie's door, and began to scratch upon it.

Ida opened it, wondering what he wanted, when Leo, with his tail between
his legs as if conscious he had done wrong, went directly to the couch,
and putting his cold nose into Minnie's hand, asked, as well as he
could, to be forgiven for his offence.

"I do love you, Leo," she exclaimed, caressing him; "you're a real good
dog; and you won't hurt Jacko again. Poor Jacko!"

On hearing these words, Leo began to wag his tail joyfully, and then,
putting his paws on the bed, licked the hand she playfully held out to
him.

CHAPTER IV.

THE FAITHFUL DOGS.

"O, cousin Minnie," cried Ida, "here are some beautiful stories. Let me
read them to you."

"An English terrier was brought up in a family where there was a little
girl, with whom he was a great favorite. For hours together they amused
each other, the dog readily yielding obedience to every wish of his
little friend. One day, however, when they were at play in the nursery,
the mother was startled by a quick snarl from the terrier, expressive of
temper and violence.

"Alarmed for her child, she rushed to the dog and drove him angrily
away; but after the closest examination, she could find no trace of
injury inflicted on the little girl, and she soon, forgot both the
outcry and alarm.

"Meantime poor Fido had not ventured from the corner where he had been
driven in disgrace, but remained for a long time pensive and quiet in
his retreat. At last, when his little playmate began to look round for
him, he came slowly forward to the mother of his companion, and sitting
directly before her, with a touch of his paw solicited her attention.

"'What is it, Fido?' she asked.

"He rose gently, and placed something on the ca