The Birmingham age-herald., 1914-06-30

Whenever he'd see another dog in the street. he'd just stand up on his hind legs at the window and growl and prance, and knew he wanted to get out and light. l wish now 1 had let h.m.,' iOh. don't reproach yourself" Mrs. Tit ter insisted. You were good mother to him.
 - was far from being good to him. Mrs. Pumpkins corrected ..Of course We gave him plenty to eat, a good place to sleep, We bathed him once a week, and kept his coat soft and velvety. we made his bed for him every night, but was that being good to him? Was that what he wanted? Of course it wasn't. He was a poor 1ttle miserable, unhappy prisoner, my dear. Why, he'd rather have been out jogging around with lot of .setters and pointers and hound pups, than to have had all the beds and eats and things in the world. Sleeping on a silken cush- ion is no sport for an English bull ter Tier, strong enough to draw an ox-cart. What he wanted was chance to let his muscles work and play. Think of that poor thing when he did get out, being escorted around the block pulling at his leash with no opportunity to become ac- quanted with other dogs and in little while brought back into the house again. I'll promise you one thing. Mrs. litter, | I'll never be the despoiler of a dogs life againi Never!"
 You take the matter too seriously, Mrs. Pumpkins" her friend insisted.' l Remember what a joy Gyp was to l, your children and how they loved him and played with him, and how he loved them.''
 ''Yes, know all that" said the ag- | grieved one. "He was always at the heels of the babies; guarded them when they slept, like a loyal sentinel, sometimes get ting tired and crawling in with the baby nd fjr,cr h ht1 him. How dogs do hate to get up, don't | they? Ever notice that. Of course, my children are all but distracted over Gyp's rntimely end."
 He certainly was always very nice to your friends" said Mrs. litter. At least he was to me. I loved the way he had of standing up on his hind legs and look ing straight into my eyes. Sometimes it worried me. I sort of felt like he was asking for something and that I ought to go buy him a box of candy or some
 red top boots something.'
 T always knew what he wanted" said Mrs. Pumpkins, with keen interest. ] Every dog and his master have a lan- guage all their own. It's only when the poor brute comes to die that language falls. Gyp had the manners of gen. l tleman. He knew instinctively when one
 of us was dressing to go out. He knew whether or not there was a chance for him to be asked to go along. He never intruded. He merely stuck about, so that
 he'd be there to acknowledge the invita- tion when it was extended. You know how he loved to go out in the automobile, | and he did look stylish sitting perched up
 beside the chauffeur, didn't he? As much
 as he wanted to go. he never begged. He had infinite patience and, oh, more than infinite faith in us. He knew we'd never | hurt him, but always do our best for
 him, and yet we kept him prisoner. poor thing, all his life! It hurts me now to think of it, and, as I said, never again will have pet. will never keep any thing housed from the open. No, never, or from it's knd Freedom above all things is the greatest boon to anything or anybody and I'm wondering if poor little old Gyp in dog heaven today has forgiven us for keeping him a prisoner