were, and cautioned him to do his utmost to
avoid them.

VIII

About a year after Murphy's arrival, Dan was gathered to his forefathers,
and there was mourning throughout the house for many days. To one at
least, if not to more, Alphonse Karr's remark held good--_On n'a dans la
vie qu'un chien_--and Dan was that dog. His life had been long; he had
won all hearts; he had done many wonderful things, besides fulfilling his
duties as a faithful constable of the place in which his lot was cast;
and now, loving and beloved, he had died. Such were the data from which
his epitaph had to be evolved. Man could desire no better. To have been
loved--that, all said and done, is the great thing, for it comprises all
others. Another French writer reckoned it the highest eulogy bestowable,
and it seems as if he was not far wrong, whether we have before us dogs
or men.

One of Murphy's last acts by his grandfather reflected his own character,
no less than the affectionate relations existing between himself and Dan.
It was the custom to give the dogs certain biscuits after dinner of which
they were particularly fond, and they sat side by side to receive them.
One evening, when the biscuit tin was taken out as usual, Dan was absent.
He was old; probably asleep: better let Murphy have his, and have done
with it. The young dog refused to have anything to say to such
suggestions; and for the moment his attitude was put down to an access of
shyness, for these particular biscuits were irresistible. Presently he
began barking and running backwards and forwards to the door. Being let
through, he ran to another, found a third open, and presently returned in
a perfect ecstasy of delight, with the old dog by his side. He
subsequently referred to the extraordinary stupidity that had been
evinced in a long and comprehensive speech. To steal a march on the old,
or to fail to treat them at all times with respect, was evidently, in his
opinion, wicked. At least, that was his text.

Dan's last resting-place was, of course, in the dogs' burial-ground in
the family home. To lie there was the highest honour bestowable, and Dan
had wholly earned it. Many generations of dogs lay in and around that
corner, and the spot, if not consecrated, was at least regarded by most
as very sacred.

This was it. An angle of old, ruined brick wall, facing West--part of an
ancient garden--beautiful in colour and overgrown with iv