to Barnstable. They both leaned over the little gate, and twice
exchanged adieus with me, as I turned to have a last look at all
that had been so dear to my childhood. Faithful old Tray bore me
company, and wagged his tail approvingly, and the rose tree tops, as
I fancied, waved me a God speed; and the wind whispered joyously;
and the birds flirted and sported before me on the sandy road, and
tuned their songs to the temper of my feelings.

Between me and Tray there existed the uninterrupted friendship of a
lifetime, the recollections of which I have sometimes thought of
writing for the benefit of future generations, seeing that to write
one's recollections, (to which may be added the recollections of
others,) is become extremely fashionable. Tray had been my companion
in many an adventure, all of which I thought he at this moment
treasured in his memory, and would have recounted were he possessed
of the power of speech. Having ascended a piece of rising ground,
about a mile from the house, I sat down by the road side, intending
to take leave of him and send him back, according to the request of
my mother. He immediately planted himself close by my side, laid his
great paw incessantly upon my knee, and, with looks of regret, would
have expressed the friendship he bore me with caresses. Indeed there
seemed a hidden goodness in his heart, a nobleness that caused the
current of his friendship to flow with much gentleness, and a
singleness in his mute appeals to my approbation, that I could not
help contrasting with the insincerity of those dogs who go about the
world on two legs, and imagine themselves most valiant when
devouring one another.

After resting for a few minutes, and casting a longing look over the
scene behind me, recalling, as it did, so many old associations, I