ut are merely taking home a supply for their own
households. How fortunate those towns are where the water is conveyed by
pipes from house to house!

BURIED ALIVE;

OR, LOVE NEVER LOST ON A DOG.

"Heigho!" sighed Thusnelda, as she lay on the straw not far from the
spot where her three beautiful puppies were curled up in a heap.
"Heigho!" she sighed, "I do hope dear master will not deprive me of any
more of my darlings. Let me see now, there were ten of them originally.
Yes, ten, for I counted them over and over again fifty times a day, and
now there are only three. Heigho!" Here she glanced round towards these
sleeping beauties in the straw, and her lovely eyes were brimming over
with motherly affection and intelligence.

"To be sure," she added, "master has kept the three prettiest, that is
some consolation, and the others have all gone to good homes, where I
doubt not their virtue will be duly appreciated, though I shall never,
never see them more."

Thusnelda was a dog of German birth and extraction. In truth, she was a
Dachshund, and a high-bred one too, and both in this country and in
Berlin she had taken many honours at dog shows.

Some might not have thought Thusnelda's body shapely. She was long and
low, with a red jacket as smooth and soft as satin; so low in stature
was she, that her chest almost touched the ground, and her fore legs
were turned in at the ankle, and out at the feet--the latter indeed were
almost out of all proportion, so big and flat were they; but no one
could help admiring Thusnelda's splendid head, her broad intelligent
skull, and her long silky ears and gazelle-like eyes. If ever eyes in
this world were made to speak love and affection and all things
unutterable, those eyes were Thusnelda's.

She got up at last and went and stood over her darlings. She gazed at
them long and fondly, wondering and thinking what future they had before
them. She held her head so low as she did so, that her splendid ears
trailed and touched them. They moved in their sleep, they kicked and
gave vent to a series of little ventriloquistic barks as puppies have a
habit of doing; then the mother licked them fondly with her soft tongue,
and therefore one awoke. It was Vogel. The names of the other two were
Zimmerman and Zadkiel. As soon as Vogel awoke she gave a joyful wee bark
of recognition, which aroused both her tiny brothers, and the whole
three rushed at once to their good mother.

"Ah, my de