the rising sun, but with no other perceptible purpose. So have I heard
men rise in the dawn to practice the cornet--but they were men, so they
ran no risk of their lives. Teddy's practicing, however, has now been
carried on for several years in the teeth of no little peril; and, had
it not been for much human influence employed on his behalf, he would
long since have antedated his little friend in Paradise. When that
little friend, however, came to assist and emulate him in those morning
recitals, adding to his bark an occasional--I am convinced purely
playful--bite, I am inclined to think that a sentiment grew in the
neighbourhood that one dog at a time was enough. At all events, Teddy
still barks at dawn as of old, but our little Puppy barks no more.

Before the final quietus came to him, there were several occasions on
which the Black dog, called Death, had almost caught him in his jaws.
One there was in especial. He had, I believe, no hatred for any living
thing save Italian workmen and automobiles. I have seen an Italian
workman throw his pick-axe at him, and then take to his heels in
grotesque flight. But the pick-axe missed him, as did many another
clumsily hurled missile.

* * * * *

An automobile, however, on one occasion, came nearer its mark. Like
every other dog that ever barked, particularly terriers, Puppy delighted
to harass the feet of fast trotting horses, mockingly running ahead of
them, barking with affected savagery, and by a miracle evading their
on-coming hoofs--which to him, tiny thing as he was, must have seemed
like trip-hammers pounding down from the sky. But horses understand such
gaiety in terriers. They understand that it is only their foolish fun.
Automobiles are different. They have no souls. They see nothing engaging