The Montgomery tribune. (Montgomery City, Mo.) 1892-1910, 1907-02-08

parently lost in a deep reverie, and
wearing on his head an absurd model
OF a top-hat. On hearing my footsteps
he rose and shambIed across the grass
to meet me, his hat (Which was Sc.
cured with an elastic band) cooked
knowingly over n eye.
why, you remember hint" cried
the boy. This Is the dog | bought at
the farm. We call him Marcus Au.
relius because he's always meditating.
He's awfully clever; I've taught him
heaps of tricks"
The animal sauntered up and wiped
his paws on my trousers by way OF a
greeting.
Hello Marc!" said his master. "Sit
up!"
The dog promptly Topped down full
length on the grass.
Il didn't tell you to die" cried the
boy. "Sit up you little blackguard!"
Marc, with his top.hat hanging I'M
der his chin like a n~ose-bag, rolled
over and entertained us by dying"
On his back.
That's just like him." said the boy;
its the easiest trick he's got; and
whenever l tell him to do anything
else he always will die he won't sit
up or run round after his tail"
Marc having died" for what he
considered a reasonable length OF
time, now rose to his feet and Ia
tered back to his m%editations, this
time wearing his top-hat on the back
Of his neck. as though it was a sol
dier's knapsack.
whats he got that on for?"
why l want him to get accus.
toned to 1t, because I'm going to teach
him to rear it when he goes out into
the street"
What can he do besides die?"
WELL" answered the boy, 81 think
he'd make a good sporting dog be.
cause he's always digging holes in the
garden, and l think he's kill rats If he
had the chance. l tried him once with
a mouse that I caught in the stable;
I let 1t loose On the kitchen floor, and
somehow Marc lost it, and it ran away
somewhere, and we couldn't find II,
and mother made an awful fuss. She
doesn't like Marc, I'm sure she doesn't,
and he isn't allowed even to lie in
front Of the dining room fire, but al
ways has to go into a basket. Women
never value a good dog; they don't
know one when they see him. Do they,
Marc?"
The dog-who appeared now to
have finally determined to carry his
top-hat as a chest protector@on hear
ing his name called, awoke with a
start from his reverie, and after a mo-
ment's hesitation, as though he forgot
exactly how the trick began, turned
slowly over and died"
Many years have slipped away
since 1 first saw Marcus Aucelius medi-
tating on the sun-lit lawn, and though
l knew him as a baby, l find him to
be quite a gray-haired old nan. No
top-hat appears rakishly perched upon
his shapeless head, and he stretches
himself with perfect confidence upon
the sacred hearthrug and suffers no
rebuke.
Marc" says mother, with a slight
tremble in her voice. where's your
master?"
The dog wags his stumpy tail, but
1t is a heartless proceeding, and he
does not even raise his head. Per-
haps he knows as we'll as we do that
wide seas roll between himself and
Australia, and long before the boy win
wei think of crossing them again.
Marcus Aurelius will have performed
his old trick in sober earnest and
shambled off down that dusty pathway
trodden years ago by the family of
juvenile porkers, the old sheepdog,
and all the other friends of his youth.