JACK’S new home was in a sea-coast town about an hour’s journey by rail. A baggage car does not afford much opportunity for seeing the country. Even if it did, Jack was not in a mood to enjoy it, for if ever there were a homesick dog, Jack was one. When the train stopped at Seaport and Jack was released, the wind was blowing fresh from the ocean, and the sun was shining brightly.

When Nature does her best to make things bright for us, we feel her cheery influence. So it was with Jack, and he began to look about him with some interest. The engine-house which was to be Jack’s future home was situated in the centre of the town. It was a small wooden structure, very unlike the fine brick building where Jack had lived so long. The men received him kindly and with interest, for Mr. Ledwell had written a glowing account of Jack’s sagacity and usefulness, but Jack did not feel happy. How could a dog of his years and experience be expected to feel at home in a new place and among new people?

Jack showed his gratitude in his dog’s way for all the kindness shown him, but his occupation was gone. He never ran with the engine again, for he couldn’t go with his old company. In vain the men tried to induce him to follow. He resisted every invitation, and watched the engine start for a fire with perfect indifference.

“He is only homesick. He will be all right when he gets used to us,” the men said; but they were mistaken. The faithful dog, who had stood by the company of Engine 33 so long and valiantly, lost all his interest in the Fire Department. When an alarm sounded, he would sometimes start to his feet from force of habit, but his interest went no further. He would sit and watch the engine leave without manifesting the slightest concern.

When this account of Jack reached the ears of his old friends of Company 33, they could hardly believe it, for they had supposed that he would feel at home in an engine-house. If he had been a young dog, he probably would have adapted himself quickly to the change, but the saying “You can’t teach an old dog new tricks” is true in most cases.

One day one of the engine men of the town of Seaport went to the city, and, in order to see what would come of it, took Jack with him. As they neared the engine-house which had been Jack’s home for so many years, a change came over him as he recognized familiar objects. His ears were pricked, his tail no longer drooped, and he hurried along at a rapid pace. When he reached the engine-house, he turned in at the entrance and ran upstairs as if he had never been away. The day with his old friends was a happy one, and Jack seemed as contented and as much at home as of old. The subject of his not caring to follow the engine was talked over, and one of the men, in order to try him, went below and sounded the alarm. In an instant Jack was on his way downstairs in the old way, and when they saw his disappointment at the trick played upon him, they were sorry for him, for it made them understand how much the Fire-Dog grieved for his old home.

After this visit Jack seemed more reconciled to his new surroundings. He soon made the acquaintance of all the children in town, and endeared himself to them by his gentle and affectionate ways. They began to bring him the things dogs are known to relish, as the children who lived near his old home used to do. Surrounded by so much kindness, no dog could have been unhappy, and Jack gradually became accustomed to his new life. It is true the excitement of running with the engine was no longer his, but other pleasures came into his life. Before long he became known to all the townspeople, and they began to tell anecdotes of his sagacity.

Mr. Ledwell, who felt a pity for the faithful dog who was banished from his old home, ordered the butcher in Seaport to furnish the Fire-Dog with bones, and every morning at the same hour Jack walked sedately to the butcher’s shop and got his bone. So it became a standing joke that old Jack had an account at the butcher’s.

After his visit to the city, when Jack was beginning to cultivate the social side of his nature by making and receiving calls, which he had little time to do in the busy life at the city engine-house, he made the acquaintance of a very affable young dog who greatly pleased him. So much did he enjoy the new friendship that he went to the greatest length a dog can go in the way of friendship,—he showed him the place where he buried his bones and treated him to a generous supply. The new acquaintance, however, proved to be unworthy of the trust reposed in him, and went secretly to the spot and helped himself.

When the Fire-Dog discovered that the new friend had taken this mean advantage of his generosity, he at once cut his acquaintance. When they met, as they frequently did, the Fire-Dog always looked straight ahead as if he didn’t see him at all. This course of behavior was very humiliating to the culprit, and he felt the disgrace much more than any other course Jack could have pursued, for nothing humiliates a human being or an animal so much as to be ignored.

Now that Jack was no longer a business dog, it was astonishing how much time he found in which to amuse himself. He had in the old days, as we have seen, found no time to indulge in the social pleasures in which dogs take so much delight, such as running the streets and calling on dog friends. The only pleasures he then had were the visits of the children who lived near the engine-house, an occasional call from Boxer, or a chance meeting with some dog passing through the city. As we have seen, he had not been popular with the dogs of his neighborhood, on account of the jealousy his important position excited in them. Now that he had retired to private life, this objection was removed, and the Fire-Dog’s loving and amiable nature made him a host of friends among his kind.

There were certain houses where Jack made daily calls. He went with great regularity to these houses, as if he felt the care of them and must see that everything was going on in a satisfactory manner. He always took up his position on the door-steps or piazza and waited patiently until some one invited him to enter. If nobody happened to notice that he was there, it seemed to make no difference to Jack. He would wait a reasonable time, and then take his leave, calling at the next house on his list.

Still another pleasure fell to Jack’s lot. He all at once took up the habit of going to church, and every Sunday Jack was to be seen at one of the churches in Seaport. He slipped in quietly and took a modest position in the back part of the church, where he was in nobody’s way. He sat very still through the service, usually taking short naps during the sermon, but he was always wide awake and attentive during the singing, which apparently afforded him great enjoyment. He went to one church after another, as if testing them to see which suited his taste the best, and finally settled upon the Methodist, attending services with great regularity. It was supposed to be the character of the music which made Jack choose this denomination, for the cheerful, hopeful vein that pervades the Methodist hymns seemed to be particularly acceptable to him.

This church-going habit was, of course, no objection, as the intelligent dog made no disturbance during service, and went and came with the greatest propriety. Before long, however, the children in the congregation discovered that Jack was a regular attendant at church, and from that time there was a craning of necks to obtain a look at the Fire-Dog, and whispered questions and other signs which showed that the young members of the congregation were more intent upon watching Jack than they were upon the service. When this state of affairs became apparent, word was sent to the engine-house that Jack must be kept at home on Sunday. So the following Sunday Jack was locked up in the engine-house, and a miserable morning he passed, softly whining to himself when he heard the church-bells summoning the congregation.

The next Sunday morning when the firemen looked for Jack to shut him up, the Fire-Dog was nowhere to be found. In vain they hunted and called; there was no response. But Jack attended services that morning at the Baptist Church. The following Saturday night Jack was secured, and he passed the next day locked up in the engine-house, a very unhappy dog; and the firemen thought they had at last found a way to keep the Fire-Dog away from church, by securing him on Saturday night. They were mistaken, however, for the next Saturday night not a trace was to be found of knowing Jack. The next morning he slipped into the Universalist Church as the swinging door was opened by a tardy arrival, and he took up his old position in the corner. He was one of the first to pass out of the open doors when the service was ended, and very few knew of his presence.

After this, the firemen decided it was not much use to attempt to keep Jack from attending church, so they let matters take their course; and as he went sometimes to one and sometimes to another of the churches, no further complaints were made. If he succeeded in slipping in when some one was entering, he took advantage of the chance and entered; but if no such opportunity offered, he seated himself outside where he could hear the singing. When the congregation came out, he joined them and walked sedately home.

After Jack’s departure, his old friend Boxer grieved for him long, and seemed to take comfort in visiting the Fire-Dog’s old home. He passed a great part of his time there, watching the men and the horses, and gradually came to be there most of the time. He seemed to feel it his duty to guard the property, and sat for hours in front of the house, watching the pigeons and sparrows when they came for the food that was regularly thrown out to them.

Here Boxer’s duty ended. He was observed to watch the engine start off to a fire with great interest, bustling about while the hurried preparations were going on, and barking himself hoarse with excitement as the horses dashed out of the engine-house and disappeared down the hill. He watched them with longing eyes, but could never be induced to follow them, much as he seemed to long to do it. The men concluded that he considered this had been his friend Jack’s privilege, and that he was too loyal to his old friend to usurp his rights.

Boxer also took great pleasure in the visits of the children who still came to the engine-house, and they soon became very fond of him, although at first the youngest among them were rather afraid of his big mouth and rather savage expression. Among his visitors were Sam and Billy, and many choice morsels of food he received from their hands.

So we see that although he did not take the Fire-Dog’s place, he had a place of his own in the hearts of the firemen and the young visitors who came so often to the engine-house.