ALTHOUGH I am a dog myself I do wonder how some of my race can afford to waste so much love upon masters who have so little love for them, or, it would seem, for any one else.

Now, for instance, there is Mr. Billings who lives on the hill; just think how he ill-treats and almost starves his dog, cuffing, scolding, licking him; and yet that poor fellow is just as glad to see him the next time as though he had been petted, and is ready to hunt, drive cows or sheep, or watch all night.

I have known that dog ever since he came into the neighborhood, and I knew old man Billings long before.

Being up that way I had a few words with friend Dash the day he arrived. I found him to be friendly—a dog that any man might love and be proud of. I was awfully sorry for him then, and have been ever since, for I did not think much of his master.

Sometimes, when I see the poor fellow coming, looking so lean and hungry, I run out into the road with the best bone I have on hand, for a bit of a lunch, and leave it where I know Dash will find it. My! it does me good to see him take it down.

I often think of him trotting for fifteen or twenty miles after that team, and as likely as not without a mouthful of breakfast before starting.

This is not mere surmise; he told me so one day—said he had been all day with nothing to eat but a scrap or two which he happened to find on the way; for he had not time to hunt for anything while in town, because he had to stay and watch the things in the wagon. It’s too bad, too bad!

Just think what Dash has done for that man!

You never heard about it?

Well, I will tell you. It was in the spring of last year—the time for washing sheep. When Mr. Billings went for his sheep, all his children who were big enough to help drive went along.

As he never pets anything that he has, so he never petted his sheep, therefore as soon as they heard him call they were much more afraid of him than they would have been of our master, I really believe, so away they went as fast as their legs could carry them.

If it had not been for Dash, Mr. Billings and all his boys could never have penned those creatures. But he seemed to know just what to do, and it was not long before they seemed to feel as though they had found a friend instead of an enemy in this dog; he worked like a good fellow, as he is.

After much skillful maneuvering, hard running and gentle barking, the sheep were all finally gotten into the pen, where Billings and his boys could take them one by one and wash them with the water which fell over the dam.

After the father and older boys were gone, little Bennie Billings, who is only a few months more than three years old, crawled through the garden fence and started after the others.

His mother did not miss him, thinking he had gone with his brothers. As it was, Bennie came trotting along while the rest were absorbed in the work of washing sheep, and so was not noticed by any one of them.

But faithful Dash had his eye upon him all the while, and felt that it was more important that he should look after the boy than the lambs.

He tried hard to keep between Bennie and the water, but this he was not long able to do.

Sliding down the bank the boy crawled out upon a slippery rock, and from that fell into the water.

It was deep, and Dash had all he could do to drag the little fellow to the land. He could not pull him out; but holding on as well as he could, he growled very loud.

Dash was getting pretty tired, and the case was growing desperate, when a neighbor hearing the growl, came to the rescue.

Poor Bennie was almost gone; he would not have lived much longer; but if help had not come, Dash would have died with the little chap he was trying to save.

Think of that father kicking Dash after that, or ever forgetting to give him all he needed to eat! You would think the boy’s mother would look after her child’s rescuer; but it is said she has little to do with.

It would not seem so strange if the faithful fellow were not all the time doing things worthy of being remembered.

It was only last fall, when the corn was well grown, that this hard master came home one rainy night and forgot to fasten the gate after him. There were a great many cattle upon the road, and Dash told me he could hear the bell upon one old cow dingling away as plain as day all the time the master was unharnessing the horses. He said he ran out by the gate and barked as loud as he could when Mr. Billings was going into the house; but it did no good. So there was nothing for him to do but go and stay there all night in the hard rain.

Telling me about it he said: “I wouldn’t have minded it, though it was so cold and wet, if master had noticed it; if he had just said, ‘Good faithful fellow, you saved our garden and cornfield!’ but he never noticed me except to scold me for getting in the way when I came into the kitchen to warm myself a little, though he knew there were more than twenty head of cattle which would have been in that garden and cornfield if I had not kept them out.”

But for all that he would do the same things over again, or anything else that he can do for the comfort and help of his hard master.

I suspect Dash misses these little kindnesses more for the reason that he has not always been used to such treatment.

You see he once had a good master; but the man was taken ill and had to go away, and for some reason could not take Dash with him.

One day when we met down town near the post-office he told me this story.

By some mishap the house of his former master took fire. How it happened he did not seem to know. The mistress had gone into a neighbor’s house for a few moments, and had left her baby asleep in the cradle, in charge of a little girl, while Dash watched at the front gate to see that no tramp came in.

Said he, “I smelt something, and looked around just in time to see that little girl as she ran out of the front door crying ‘Fire!’

“In a moment I thought of Baby, and saw that the girl had left it in the house; so I dashed through the door and into the thick smoke, and finding the cradle I caught the child by his frock, and pulling with all my might I got him out on the floor and dragged him to the door. Just as I got him to the first step, where we could breathe again, the mother arrived.

“But she came too late to have saved her baby if it had been in the cradle then, for that was already in full blaze. As it was, the poor thing was almost smothered with the smoke.

“How that mother hugged and kissed me! She made so much ado about it that I felt almost ashamed. Yet I must confess it was gratifying to know that the mother appreciated what I had done.

“Well, after that there was nothing in the house too good for me to eat, no place where I was not welcome, no kennel too nice for me to sleep in, nor was there any lack of petting.”

Just imagine what a change from a home such as that, to the miserable one he now has to endure.

I do feel so sorry for him!

Sometimes I feel as though I should not be as faithful as Dash is if I were in his place; yet I must not forget that duty is duty, and that one must not do wrong because he has not been treated as he should be.

If this poor fellow’s case were a solitary one, it would not seem so bad; but I am sorry to say that all over our land there are as faithful fellows as Dash treated no better than he.

Think of those dogs with drunken masters! Think how much they have to endure of hunger and cold and abuse, though they are as faithful as life. I can hardly keep from growling when I think of it!

But I must not talk in this way any longer to-day. I have spent the hour speaking of another, so we must wait till some other time before I can tell you anything more of my own experience.

Indeed I was not intending to talk all the time about myself; I would like to set before you a little of the lives of the best of our race, such as will afford you excellent examples for imitation, that your lives may be good and true.

R.