ing the fact as well as he might from Eumaeus;
and Tristrem and Ysolde, in the legend, took Hodain to be their intimate
companion, because he had once shared with them "the drink of might." So,
too, the great Theron walked as the close companion of the Gothic king;
and Cavall became the trusty servant and liegeman of King Arthur. The
huge white hound Gorban sat ever at the side of the Welsh bard Ummad as
he sang his songs; and the beautiful Bran was the friend for life of
Fingal. Most men have heard of William the Silent's spaniel, who saved
his master's life; and many may have seen the form of the dog, fashioned
in white marble, lying at his master's feet on the well-known tomb at
Delft. We have each read of Scott's Maida. And if some, perhaps, have
made a pilgrimage to that long and narrow mound in the vale of Gwyant
which, according to tradition, marks the resting-place of the immortal
Gelert, others have read of the faithful Vigr who never again tasted food
when he learnt that Olaf, his master, lay dead.

The stories are without end; and romance knows no limits when dealing
with the subject. The lives of the Man and the Dog are found to be ever
intertwined. Yet is there always this besides--the rift in the lute and
the familiar refrain, that the life of the dog shall be short, and that
Man shall go on his way with his head bent, till such time as he shall
become rich once more in the love of a new-found friend--if that be
always possible.

No man, it has been well said, can be deemed unhappy who possesses the
love of a dog; and none are too poor to win it, as none are too high to
rejoice and grow glad in it. The dog, at least, knows no difference of
class or place in his attachments. To him his home is his home; his
master, his master and friend, whether his lot be to follow the tramp on
the road, or to walk behind a king to the tomb. And perhaps it may be due
to the mystery lying at the back of this wonderful intimacy and
connection, stretching far back into an altogether hidden past, that to
strike another man's dog unjustly is equivalent to striking him; that to
hurt a dog with intent is to earn the worst of characters and to stain
one's kind; and that for a dog to be in trouble and claim aid is for him
to claim also the man's heart--even, as has many a time occurred, the
man's life--to the infinite glory of both.

Nor has it been only on man's side that such deeds of heroism have been
exhibited. The man, the w