. It was the old story again, of the
hare in his earlier days, for the gull was not harmed, and when liberated
flew out to sea, with the cry "pew-il," "pee-ole" flung back from the
waves as he went.

"I never thought to live tu zee the like o' that," remarked a
longshoreman passing at the time: but then he was a stranger to Murphy,
and also to his ways.

What happiness was to be had in life; what sport and splendid fun--sport
all day long; fun without end! Did not the morning begin with a
game?--the dog lying down in one corner of the hall, fixing his master
with his eye as he appeared, and then, after pausing a while as if to
say, "Are you ready?" launching himself full tilt, till he was brought up
in a final leap against his master's chest, full five feet from the
ground. Of course the whole hall was in a smother every time, with mats
and rugs all out of place upon the slippery floor. And then the noise!
The only thing was to leave the house and work off some of the steam out
there.

No dog with a particle of nervousness or hesitation left would do such
things as that. But he only did them with his master. When with others,
report had it that he was a different dog, with no taste for hunting or
for chasing birds--a dog, in fact, that invariably got into one room and
lay there alone, unless he changed his place for the mat by the front
door.

Of course He would come back. Folk always did. There could be no break in
this friendship: it would last for ever. He had heard his master count
the years: "Four"--that was his own age--he knew that much; and from four
his master would count up to ten; then hesitate; then say "eleven"; then
hesitate again, and remark, "twelve--perhaps: yes, little man; you'll see
me out--easy!"

And those who watched and looked on added this to what they had said
before, "What _will_ happen, if anything happens to that dog?"

It was a funny way of putting it, but the remark was always met, in
reply, with, "Don't let us meet trouble half-way, or make a circuit of
the hills to look for it;

"'Fortis cadere, cedere non potest.'"

XI

The roads were deep in snow. The fall had begun two hours before light;
gently, and with large flakes--the presage of what was to come. Snow was
still falling in the afternoon; but now the wind had sprung up, and each
large flake was torn into a dozen as the wind played with them, driving
them upward