from
anything else, he was still perfectly blind; also, he had as much
of the best kind of nourishment as he was capable of absorbing, and
was watched over, and cared for, and ministered to by the loyal
little sheep-dog quite as scrupulously as a human baby is tended.
There never was a truer saying than that "Blood will tell." But,
not only is a mongrel mother's milk rich and strong (if she is a
healthy, well-cared for animal), but also her care of her young is
slavish and unremitting. Her nerves are never overstrained; she is
not unduly sensitive; she knows how to economize vital energy.
There is as much difference between her life and temperament and
that of a champion-bred aristocrat and winner of prizes at shows as
there is between the life and temperament of a society belle and a
Devonshire dairymaid. In the sheep-dog's case, a healthy appetite
waited always upon plentiful meals. She had but one whelp to care
for, and of that one she hardly ever lost sight, even when
sleeping. If the blind, foolish Finn wriggled from her side in mid-most
night, he ran no risk of taking cold, for if the sheep-dog did
not see him, then her instinct (keener in the plebeian than in the
dog of high degree, just as nerves and sentiment are keener in the
aristocrat) woke her within the minute, and up she got to nose her
erring infant back to sleep and warmth and safety.

On the evening of his tenth day in the world, Finn was still
perfectly blind. His eyes as yet showed no signs of opening. This
rather surprised the Master, when he looked in before shutting up
for the night. He was quite easy in his mind now about Tara, who
was almost well again, to all appearances, and lay contentedly in
the den all day, having apparently forgotten, not only her illness,
but its causes, and her puppies. She was rather listless and
lackadaisical, but seemed to be well content so that she could lie
within sight of the Master and dream. And now the Master was
chatting with the sheep-dog foster, after having had a good look at
Finn, and before shutting up for the night.

"But perhaps it is well he is still blind, for your sake, old
lady," said he to the foster. "He will be a bit of a handful for
you before you've done with him, I fancy; and the sooner he begins
to find his own way about, the longer he will torment you. Never
mind, little bitch; you must do your best for Finn; for he's a
great pup."

And a great pup he assuredly was, to be sprawling acro