Rev. Dr. Bacon's Dog

It was a case of love at flrst sight. met Mm one Sunday af ternoon white was strolling abont the flelds, and from that moment I vowed I would nake him mine, if by any wile or guile ,hat resnlt could be brought about. He was a beautiful shepherd dog, of no sreed that I have ever encountered, either before or sinee. His color was buff, shading to white imderneath, and set off by two long pointed collarsupon shoulders of dark gray hair. His tail was long, and as he waived it over his back it reminded me of the white plume af King Henry of Navarre. But the crowning glory of the dog was his face. The color of his face was the lightest and most icsthetic shade of "old gold," and was set off by a black nose tip, two little black eyebrows, a pair of j sensitivo and inquisitive yellow ears, ánd the most human, intelligent, and loving brown eyes that it has ever been my lot to meet. His face, whea I first met him, was lighted up with a smile of joy at seeing a party of f riendiy people approaching him, and when I called bim he carne bounding across the. field, with his plutny tail waving, his brown eyes shining, and such an expression of good will to men, that then and there the conquest was made, and I became his abject slave and adorer. That was all I saw of Mm for about a montb, though during that time I was negotiating witli his master to see on what terms he would give up all claim to the dog. What these claims were I will not teil here ; but suffice it to say that at the end of the month, after I had relurned to my home in the city, my blandishments prevailed, and the dog "Vas sent dowa by express. I received a telegram saying that the dog Brant had started ; and soon after an express wagon drove up to the door, and there sitting on the seat beside the driver, and beaming as if he owned the whole town, and was returning to his possessions af ter long absence, was the dog, Brant. He came in, sure that he was among f rienda, and from the moment of his arrival he never expressed a desire for any other home than the one to which he had come. That he was my exclusive property he fully understood before a week had passed, and, though he accepted the rest of the family a-i near and dear relations, he never for one moment doubted in his loyal little heart to whom he owed the most devoted love and allegiance. Except when I was away from home (when he generally chose some one of the f amily to attach himself to in my absence), he followed me trom room to room about the house, accompanied me in my walks, slept in my room at night, and was never for one moment separated from me by any act of his own will. His whole being was swallowed up in devotion to me. I do not think there was an expression of my face or a movement of my hand that he did not notice and comprehend by that subtle sense with which love for a human being endows a dog. A dog with no supreme object for his affections is a eontemptible miserable animal. A dog who knows and loves a master is of all animáis the most happy and intelligent. To teil of all Brant's loving and intelligent ways would require more time than any one but a real lover of dogs would care to give to the subject ; but some things about him must be told in order to rightly show his character, for he had a character, the study of which will perhaps, be profitable even to christians living in the full light of this nineteenth century. His obedience was, perhaps, the most noticeable of his virtues to a casual observer, for that was remarkable and rather unusual in a dog that was simply a pet. He seldom had to b told a thing more than once. The night of his arrival among us, when the doors between the dining room and siting room were thrown open and the family went in to tea, Brant sbowed a desire to accompany them. He was told that he must not, and from that time, though he would lie in the next room, and look wiötfully toward the dining table, nothing but the warmest invitation from some person whom he considered in authority would induce him to pass the threshold ; and then, so soon as he saw that the business for which he was called in was accomplished, he would retire to his original place in the bitting room. So it waa in regaid to anything he was told to do. If he understood the order he did as he was told. If he did not understand the order, he did every thing he could think until he found out what was right. Another of his virtues was his innate poliitenesa. He never willingly hurt any one's feelings. He always shook hands when introduced to a stranger ; not because he was told to, butjirom a natural sense of the fitness of things. If any caller was obliged to wait a few momenta in the parlor, Brant always feit it his duty to go in and mak e himself agreeable until some one relieved him. If he had been partieularly affectionate or earessing toward any one member of the family, he would often go around and shake hands with every one else in the room, so as to show that he didn't mean to slight any one. There was somethingalmost pathetic in Brant's desire to do the very best that he knew how, under all circumstances. He tried so hard to do right. He not only did what he was told, but he thought out what was the right thing to do, and did it. As an illustration, when he first carne, Brant was shut up ia the front vestibule at the time oí family prayers, but he had proved so good and obedient every way that it was decided to let him stay in the room one time. So he was told that he might stay if he would be very quiet. He crawled under a chair and lay there until the service was over, and from that hour we had only to teil him that we were going to have prayers, and in he would go under that chair. Once only did he leave his place, and then he was seized with a suddeu and strong desire to extermínate á flea. He got up as quietly as he could and walked into the next room, and, after a battle with the wicked flea, lay still until the family rose. When I went in to speak to him he lay with his head down and no motion of his tail, except the slight depreoatory wag with which he was wont to receive reproof. Heknew that he had done something out of the way, and he was afraid that it was wrong. "When I spoke to him kindly he was all smiles in a moment. The head was raised, the tail began to wag violently, and he showed by every means of expression that a dog has that his mind was relieved of a dreadf ui doubt. For more than a year Brant was the pet and pride of the household. Every one loved him almost as they would have loved a ehild. He was so bright and playf ui, with such a keen sense nf the ludicrous, and yet withal so loving, so obedient and sympathetic, that all, from the aged father, whose sil ver hairs were, indeed, "a crown of glory " to the youngest grandchild who visited the parental home, regarded him as a true and faithf ui friend and a beloved J ] companion. He was a constant source of pleasure to us all ; and I am afraid if any outsider had known the amount of time that we spent in playing with and talKing to and about that dog, he would have considered that we were all laboring under aberration of the intellect. It was a picture worthy of a Landseer to see the venerable patriarch of 80 years, whose life had been spent in labors for the good of bis country and of the world, talking to the doe and the dog's quick appreciation of the honor contened upon him by such noflce, and his ready response to all effort for entertainment. Every day we congratulated ourselves upon our wonderful good luck in obtaining such a treasure, and wondered how the dog's master could have made up his mind to part with such a friend. And now we come to the part of our tale which illustrates more than anything else the little fellow's singular 1eauty of character. As the autumn drew on, the beloved father, whose strength had been failing for a nurnber of months, grew more and more subject to attacka of a painf ui and terrible disease ; and Brant, as if he appreciated the situation, seemed to grow more and more loving and consideate of his grandpa (for by that name he learned to know him.) When in the early morning one of those terrible attacks would come on, and we stood aboutthe bed of the sufferer and administered whatever restoratives we hoped might bring ease and comfort, Brant would steal quietly in and wait anxiously and pertinaciously until he knew tliat all was well again, and tben, after assuring himself of Lis grandpa's safety, he would come away. Nothing would induce him to leave my father's room during one of those attaeks, nor, indeed, would he stir until the patiënt was able to rise and dress himself. If my father was obliged tolie on the sofa during the day, Brant was at once full of sympatby, and would sit behind him and whine and want to shake hands, and when my father arose and took his usual seat, Brant would express his joy by every means in his power. So it went, and we all grew more and more attached to the little fellow, because of his alrnost human sympathy with suffering. But at last carne a time when his character was to be even more tried, that it miglit show forth its beauty in a clearer light, An insidious disease attacked first his beautiful eyes and dimmed their glory forever, and then his whole system. Everything that veterinary science could suggest was done for his relief and comfort; but all efforts were in vain, and after a painful illness of üearly five weeks, the e:ad carne, and the little sympathizing, loving heart ceased to beat. During all ttaose painful weeks nis patience, eheerf ulness and good temper preached a sermón to us all. Well do I remember one stormy afternoon (it was the 23d of December), when 1 was sitting beside him and talking to him, and he showed more life and spirit than for some days. His grandpa heardine from the other end of the hall, and came down to shake hands with the little patiënt and to speak a word of sympathy to him. Brant looked up at him with love shining from his dimmed eyes, and gave his little feeble paw, and wagged his bushy tail with unusual vigor. That was their last meeting. That night the aged man, who all his life long, like Enoch, "walked with God," passed gently and quietly "through the gates into the city," "and he was not, for God took him." From that time tho little dog, who had done so much to brighten the last year of my father'a life, grew rapidly worse, and two days after that day, wken, amid the grief of the whole city and the tolling bells and weeping heavens, we committed to earth all that was earthly of one of God's saints, Brant died ; and may.we not hope that there is a place somewhere in God's uni verse where that faithf ui little soul may be rewarded for the good that he was able to accomplish during his short life?