hat he was being properly treated. "Yes, we will try.
Here, Joe Jollivet, go and ask Mrs Pendarve to give you about
half-a-dozen yards of linen for a bandage, and bring back a big needle
and thick thread."

"Yes, sir," and Joe hurried out; but soon poked his head in again.
"Don't get it all done, sir, till I've come back. I want to see."

"Can't till you come, boy. Off with you. Now, Gwyn, fill the
watering-pot. I'll lift the lid of the tank."

The pot was filled and the dog placed back again.

"Now fetch that bag of plaster-of-Paris from the tool-house," said the
Colonel.

This was soon done, and a portion of the white cement poured out into a
flower-pot.

"Is that good healing stuff, father?" asked Gwyn.

"No, but it will help. Wait a bit, and you'll see," said the Colonel;
and he once more softly felt the dog's crushed and splintered legs,
shaking his head gravely the while.

"Don't you think you can save his legs, father?" asked Gwyn.

"I'm very much in doubt, my boy," said the Colonel, knitting his brows;
but dogs have so much healthy life in them, and heal up so rapidly, that
we'll try. Now, then, how long is that boy going to be with those
bandages? Oh, here he is.

Gwyn opened the door, and Joe hurried in.

"Hah! that will do," said the Colonel; and cutting off two pieces a yard
long, he thrust them into the watering-pot, soaked them, wrung them out,
and then rolled both in the flower-pot amongst the plaster-of-Paris.

Then washing his hands, he took one of the injured legs, laid the broken
bones in as good order as he could; and as Gwyn held the bandage ready,
the leg was placed in it and bound round and round and drawn tight, the
dog not so much as uttering a whimper, while after a few turns, the limp
lump seemed to grow firmer. Then the bandaging was continued till all
the wet linen was used, when the Colonel well covered the moist material
with dry plaster, which was rapidly absorbed; and taking a piece of the
dry bandage, thoroughly bound up the limb, threaded the big needle, and
sewed the end of the linen firmly, and then the dog was turned right
over for the other leg to be attacked.

"Well, he is a good, patient beast," said Gwyn, proudly. "But you don't
think he's dying, do you, father?" he added anxiously.

"Speak to him, and try," said the Colonel.

Gwyn spoke, and the dog responded by tapping the cistern lid with his
tail very softly, and then whined piteously, for the Col