about the fields after prairie-dogs which he never caught. I remember that very day, Lilian said that she did believe that Cop knew as much as grown folks! It was a passing horse that did it. Poor Cop was flung to one side of the road, in a dreadful condition, and there he lay, moaning like a child. Lilian was beside him in an instant. We saw that he must die, and she would not have him moved. We laid the carriage rug over him to keep the rain off, and then she sat down beside him, in all the mud, and put her hand under his head, and he stopped moaning and licked her hand. Poor fellow! he died licking her hand."
I looked out upon the scene of the tragedy with much sympathy as Mrs. Ellerton rambled on.
"She won't have another dog, which is a pity. I wanted to give her one on her birthday, soon after, but she suspected my intention and begged me not to do so. He was a setter and quite as handsome as Cop—with even a better pedigree,—but
