HUCKLEBERRY.
53
You may put me out of pain as soon as you like. Master Charley; I'm ready."
It was soon done. I heard a shot, saw my lad go into the garden with a pick-axe and a spade, and then I knew that doggie was ready for his grave. We wrapped him in a bit of cheerful red carpet, and when a bed had been delved out for him, we laid the little bundle in, covered it up, and left the winter snow to spread a soft white pall over poor Huckleberry's last home.
