for only name until the end of the chapter; and the end was that,
after spending some years with us, he mysteriously disappeared.

He very soon proved to us that he understood children as well as
sheep; at all events he would allow them to tease and pull him about
most unmercifully, and actually appeared to enjoy it. Our first
riding-lessons were taken on his back; but old Pechicho eventually
made one mistake, after which he was relieved from the labour of
carrying us. When I was about four years old, my two elder brothers,
in the character of riding-masters, set me on his back, and, in order
to test my capacity for sticking on under difficulties, they rushed
away, calling him. The old dog, infected with the pretended
excitement, bounded after them, and I was thrown and had my leg
broken, for, as the poet says--

Children, they are very little,
And their bones are very brittle.

Luckily their little brittle bones quickly solder, and it did not take
me long to recover from the effects of this mishap.

No doubt my canine steed was as much troubled as any one at the
accident. I seem to see the wise old fellow now, sitting in that
curious one-sided fashion he had acquired so as to rest his lame leg,
his mouth opened to a kind of immense smile, and his brown benevolent
eyes regarding us with just such an expression as one sees in a
faithful old negress nursing a flock of troublesome white children--so
proud and happy to be in charge of the little ones of a superior race!

All that I remember of my early life at this place comes between the