restrained, and cost him his life in the end. He amused his leisure hours scratching and burrowing at the foundation stones of the shed wail, and, being loosely built, a big one fell on him in some way, hurting him so badly that there was no cure for his broken bones.
A note from Charley came to me, saying, "If you want to say good-by to poor old Huckleberry, come out and do it, for I've got to kill him, he is so hurt."
Of course I went, and there I found him lying on a soft bed of hay, with his wounds bound up, and tender-hearted Charley watching over him. How glad he was to see his "missis!" How hard he tried to come and meet me! and how satisfied he looked when I bent down to stroke him, and let him feebly lick my hand as much as he liked!
He could hardly breathe for pain, and his eyes were already dim, but his dear old tail wagged to the last; and when I had said the tenderest good-by I knew, he laid down his head with a sigh that seemed to say,—
"Now I'm content, and can die in peace. I've thanked her, and she is sorry for me, so it's all right.
