The democrat. [volume] (Weston, W. Va.) 1868-1874, 1873-02-10

comparatively to his station, He had
made himself d small fortune BY tie III.
telligence Of his dog, and his sudden
illness, instead Of reducing him 10 poy.
erty, had, on the contrary, only added
to his means. The dog earned mora
alone than he had ever carried with his
master. Each morning at the break Of
day he went out with his empty basket,
and every night ut sunset he returned
with 1t half full. I learned this from
the misers neighbors honest people,
though poor, who pretended TO believe
in the feyered wretcli's tales OF want, in
order that he might not have cause TO
dread them, and so refuse their neces-
sary services.
There is great deh OF this innate
unsuspected delicacy in the hearts Of
the working poor These rough and
uncouth, but kindly natures, tended the
graceless miser in his sickness. They
bought his food for him, they washed
his linen, and they asked for no pay
ment for anything they did. As for the
unhappy mans gold, it was at their
mercy; but tho thought Of touching it
never seemed To cross their mind.
"0nly," said one, with naive accent,
~ think, sir, twill be better when he's
laid in the ground. His money might
DO good, then, 10 some as would make
use Of IT."
And the dOgG" I murmur0d, reaec-
lively.
afhe dogs Ills friend, SIR" was the
neighbor's answer, "and he won't live
long when his masters gone"
And these words were prophecy.
sent for o doctor, for nurse, aud for
nourishing food, to battle against death;
but our efforts were useless. The misei
lived week, and upon each Of the
seven days the dog went out according
to his habit, with his basket round hil
neck, and remained ont for tcnor twelve
hours, till dusk. Sometimes 1 followed
him from morning till evening; seeing
which, and remembering my face as
that which stood daily by his masters
bedside, ho wagged his tail at my ap.
'proach, aud consented to walk at my
heels. One night the miser died, and on
the morrow Jim did not go ont. He
had missed his master the night before,
and guessed that they had put him in
the long black box that stood in the
middle of the room. When the men
came to carry away this long black box,
the dog went after them aud cried. He
followed the coffin to tile cemetery,
where he and l were the only spectators
besides the cunte, the sexton, md the
undertaker's men. When the earth was
thrown in, he looked. at me plaintively
to know what 1t meant, and when the
burial was over, he wished to remain
near the open tomb, waiting till his
master should rise. / took him home
with me, but he would not eat, and next
morning at sunrise he howlel for his
basket. It was no use keeping him, 30
| I tied the basket round his neck, and
sent him out.
That evening, foreseeing what would
happen, Iwent to the cemetery. The
dog arrived ut nightfall, with his basket
full Of pence, and turned them all ont
upon the grave. "Come home, Jim, "
said, with the tears rising to my eyes;
but he whined nournfully, and tried to
scratch up the earth. Twice more he
went out Ike this oil day, and brought
back money for his master; but on the
third evening, finding that the pence on
the grave remained untouched, he suf-
ferel me, without resistance, to take OF
his collar, and laid down at bis full
length near the miser's last sleeping
place.
The next morning he did not go en-
his rounds, for he was dead