My Doggie and I | Page 4

and looking towards the hearth-rug.
One end of him rose a little, the other end wagged gently, but as I made no further remark, both ends subsided.
"Now, Dumps," said I, finishing my meal with a draught of water, which is my favourite beverage, "you must not suppose that you have got a greedy master; though I don't allow begging. There, sir, is your corner, where you shall always have the remnants of my dinner--come."
The dog did not move until I said, "come." Then, with a quick rush he made for the plate, and very soon cleared it.
"Well, you have been well trained," said I, regarding him with interest; "such conduct is neither the result of instinct nor accident, and sure am I, the more I think of it, that the sulky fellow who sold you to me was not your tutor; but, as you can't speak, I shall never find out your history, so, Dumps, I'll dismiss the subject."
Saying this, I sat down to the newspaper with which I invariably solaced myself for half an hour after dinner, before going out on my afternoon rounds.
This was the manner in which my doggie and I began our acquaintance, and I have been thus particular in recounting the details, because they bear in a special manner on some of the most important events of my life.
Being, as already mentioned, a medical student, and having almost completed my course of study, I had undertaken to visit in one of the poorest districts in London--in the neighbourhood of Whitechapel; partly for the purpose of gaining experience in my profession, and partly for the sake of carrying the Word of Life--the knowledge of the Saviour-- into some of the many homes where moral as well as physical disease is rife.
Leanings and inclinations are inherited not less than bodily peculiarities. My father had a particular tenderness for poor old women of the lowest class. So have I. When I see a bowed, aged, wrinkled, white-haired, feeble woman in rags and dirt, a gush of tender pity almost irresistibly inclines me to go and pat her head, sit down beside her, comfort her, and give her money. It matters not what her antecedents may have been. Worthy or unworthy, there she stands now, with age, helplessness, and a hopeless temporal future, pleading more eloquently in her behalf than could the tongue of man or angel. True, the same plea is equally applicable to poor old men, but, reader, I write not at present of principles so much as of feelings. My weakness is old women!
Accordingly, on my professional visiting list--I had at that time a considerable number of these. One of them, who was uncommonly small, unusually miserable, and pathetically feeble, lay heavy on my spirit just then. She had a remarkably bad cold at the time, which betrayed itself chiefly in a frequent, but feeble, sneeze.
As I rose to go out, and looked at my doggie--who was, or seemed to be, asleep on the rug--a sudden thought occurred to me.
"That poor old creature," I muttered, "is very lonely in her garret; a little dog might comfort her. Perhaps--but no. Dumps, you are too lively for her, too bouncing. She would require something feeble and affectionate, like herself. Come, I'll think of that. So, my doggie, you shall keep watch here until I return."
CHAPTER TWO.
INTRODUCES A YOUNG HERO.
The day had become very sultry by the time I went out to visit my patients. The sky was overcast with dark thunderous clouds, and, as there seemed every chance of a heavy shower, I returned to my lodgings for an umbrella.
"Oh, Mr Mellon!" exclaimed my landlady, as I entered the lobby, "was there ever a greater blessin'--oh!--"
"Why, what's the matter, Mrs Miff?"
"Oh, sir! that 'orrid little dog as you brought 'as gone mad!"
"Is that the blessing you refer to, Mrs Miff?"
"No, sir; but your comin' back is, for the creetur 'as bin rampagin' round the room, an yellin' like a thing possessed by demons. I'm so glad you've come!"
Feeling sure that the little dog, unaccustomed, perhaps, to be left alone in a strange place, was merely anxious to be free, I at once went to my room-door and opened it. Dumps bounced out, and danced joyfully round me. Mrs Miff fled in deadly silence to her own bedroom, where she locked and bolted herself in.
"Dumps," said I, with a laugh, "I shall have to take you with me at the risk of losing you. Perhaps the memory of the feed I've given you, and the hope of another, may keep you by me. Come, we shall see."
My doggie behaved much better than I had anticipated. He did indeed stop at several butchers' shops during our walk, and looked inquiringly in. He also evinced a desire to enter into conversation with