ugust, to live in our memories. In the evening we
went to see King. He was so ill, that his medical attendant begged,
while remaining in his bed-room, we would not speak. The poor fellow was
delirious. When we came near to his bed-side, he stared at us; but could
not remember who we were. Sailor, who managed to push his way up stairs,
though we had taken the precaution to leave him out of doors, rushed up
to the bed, and placed his paws on it; but a cuff on the head sent him
to the other end of the room. King seemed to have recognized the dog;
for he rolled his head from side to side on the pillow, as if in
reprobation of the act to keep the animal from him; and although his
left hand lay outside the coverlet, he was so exhausted, having been
bled twice, that he could not stir it; but moved the forefinger,
beckoning the animal to him. At the suggestion of the doctor we stood on
one side, and opened a passage for the dog. The animal crouching in the
farthest corner of the room, hung his head, doubtful of the duty
required of him; but the moment R---- motioned with his hand, the dog in
one bound reached the bed. The wan, vacant countenance of the sufferer,
brightened with the hue and intelligence of health, for he smiled and
moved his lips, though he had not sufficient strength to articulate a
word. The dog sometimes licked his hand, and then with playfulness, took
the moving finger between his teeth, and allowing it to slip from his
mouth, would seize it again; and so, although both were speechless, both
understood each other. At last some sad reflection, the thought perhaps
of home, or the little chance he had more of sharing the affection of
any human thing, as he did now, crossed his mind; for the sick man
closed his eyes, while yet his finger moved as before and the noble
brute still toyed with it, and oozing from under the shut lids, one by
one, the tears ran over, and bathed his temples.

"We shall excite him, doctor," we said in a whisper.

"I think so," he replied; "leave him for the present."

We left the room; but it was with some difficulty we could get the dog
to follow us. The attachment of animals is a common tradition, but I
have never had the opportunity of seeing it so feelingly displayed as
during the illness of King; nor did the rage of the elements, or the
fear of death press heavier on my spirits than the mute love of Sailor
and Jacko touched me deeply. No living creatures could have remembered
wit