What a funny name for a dog! But I will tell you how he happened to get it. Blind Charlie was his master, and he was the happiest old man I ever knew.

Charlie used to sit reading the blind people's Bible, beside a sheltering wall, at the Royal Academy in Edinburgh, Blind Tommy, with his little pitcher in his mouth, begging for pennies. I got to know them so well that, every time I passed, Charlie allowed the dog to put his pitcher down, while I fed him with a biscuit or bun. I made him a nice warm coat, too, for the cold days.

One day I missed them both, and I went at once to Charlie's lodgings. Here I found that on his way home one dark night, Charlie had been knocked down by a carriage, and had his leg broken. He had been carried home, and the neighbors had been very kind and had got him a doctor. "But, oh, ma'am," he said, "there's no nurse like Tommy! He sits close beside me, and seems to know everything I want. If I am thirsty, I say, 'Tommy, some water,' and off he goes with his little pitcher to the bucket, fills it, and carries it so carefully back to me."