When misfortune came upon the child, and his troubles overwhelmed him,
he would often crawl under the table and lay his small distressed head
on the dog's back. The dog was ever sympathetic. It is not to be
supposed that at such times he took occasion to refer to the unjust
beatings his friend, when provoked, had administered to him.
He did not achieve any notable degree of intimacy with the other members
of the family. He had no confidence in them, and the fear that he would
express at their casual approach often exasperated them exceedingly.
They used to gain a certain satisfaction in underfeeding him, but
finally his friend the child grew to watch the matter with some care,
and when he forgot it, the dog was often successful in secret for
himself.
So the dog prospered. He developed a large bark, which came wondrously
from such a small rug of a dog. He ceased to howl persistently at night.
Sometimes, indeed, in his sleep, he would utter little yells, as from
pain, but that occurred, no doubt, when in his dreams he encountered
huge flaming dogs who threatened him direfully.
His devotion to the child grew until it was a sublime thing. He wagged
at his approach; he sank down in despair at his departure. He could
detect the sound of the child's step among all the noises of the
neighborhood. It was like a calling voice to him.
The scene of their companionship was a kingdom governed by this terrible
potentate, the child; but neither criticism nor rebellion ever lived for
an instant in the heart of the one subject.
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