o the
close of his life, and embittered the last hours of it.

The morning came as all mornings, whether they bring joy or grief to us,
do come. The threat the fellow had uttered against his dog the evening
before had naturally disturbed him and the old man was nervous and
excited, but he managed to cook his frugal breakfast and eat it with his
companion. I can well imagine his thoughts and his worriment. "Law! what
law?" I can hear him say. "I've broken no law. I've only loved and been
loved by my dog. That's not wicked, surely. He said he'd come again, and
if I didn't have the money ready. Money! what money? He knows I've no
money. Tax! what tax? Do they tax a man's heart in this city? Can't a
man love anything here unless he's rich? Kill my dog! I don't believe
it. There isn't a man on the earth wicked enough to kill an old man's
dog, an old man's harmless dog; no, he didn't, he couldn't mean that! he
just said it to scare me. Yes, yes, I see now; he'd been drinking and he
said it just to scare me." Thus, as I fancy, the poor old man sat
muttering to himself, listening with dread to every passing step,
listening and muttering to himself, while his old heart, quaked in his
bosom, and his soul, which had so little to cheer it, as it journeyed
along its lonely path, was sorely tried and disquieted within him.

The clock in a neighboring steeple was striking the ninth hour, and the
old man paused in his muttering and sat counting the strokes as the iron
tongue pealed them forth; counting them in his fear as if each stroke
was a knell, and so indeed to him it was, and many of the chimes we
listen carelessly to, would be knells to us, if we knew what would
happen twixt them and their next chiming.

The vibration of the last stroke was swelling and sinking in the air,
when a heavy step sounded on the stair, and without even the ceremony of
knocking, the door was pushed suddenly open, and the fellow, who had
intruded upon him the evening before, entered the room. In one hand he
held a rope and in the other a club.

"Well, old chap," he said, "you see I am here as I told you I would be.
I've given you a whole night to study up the law."

"Law! what law?" exclaimed the old man, interrupting him, "I don't know
that I broken"--

"Come, come, old shuffler, none of your blarney, if you please," broke
in the fellow; "you know well enough what law I mean. I mean the
dog-law."

"Dog-law! dog-law!" answered the old man, "what