verisimilitude of nearness, that, forgetting everything about him, he
would start to run to her. He felt somehow that it was well with the
others, but Maly had always needed _him_, and more than ever in the
last days of their companionship. He wept for nobody but Maly. In the
night he would wake up suddenly, thinking he heard her crying out for
him. Then he would get out of bed, creep to the stable, go to
Jonathan, and to him pour out his low-voiced complaint. Jonathan was
the biggest and oldest horse on the farm.

How much he thought they understood of what he told them, I cannot
say. He was never silly; and where we cannot be sure, we may yet have
reason to hope. He believed they knew when he was in trouble, and
sympathized with him, and would gladly have relieved him of his
pain. I suspect most animals know something of the significance of
tears. More animals shed tears themselves than people think.

For dogs, bless them, they are everywhere, and the boy had known them
from time immemorial.

In the village, some of Clare's old admirers began to remark that he
no longer "looked the little gentleman." This was caused chiefly by
the state of his clothes. They were not fit for the work to which he
was put, and within a few weeks were very shabby. Besides, he was
growing rapidly, so that he and his garments were in too evident
process of parting company. Accustomed to a mother's attentions, he
had never thought of his clothes except to take care of them for her
sake; now he tried to mend them, but soon found his labour of little
use. He had no wages to buy anything with. His clothes or his health
or his education were nothing to Mrs. Goodenough. It was no concern of
hers whether he looked decent or not. What right had such as he to