One morning Bruno seemed not to care for his breakfast. He sniffed daintily at it, and turned away, though I tried to tempt him with everything he liked best.
He rested his head on my knee, looking gratefully into my eyes, while his tail waved his thanks.
Then he went to his bed, and lying down upon it, he fell asleep,—not a short uneasy nap, with ears open for every sound, but a deep, dreamless sleep.
There was a beautiful young fig-tree in our lot. Under this his grave was dug. His bed was laid in, he on it, with his blanket wrapped around him.
"Arise against thy narrow door of earth, And keep the watch for me!"
THE END
TRANSCRIBER NOTES:
A Contents has been added with links to the appropriate pages as an aid to the reader. This was not included in the original book.
Illustrations have been moved so as to not interrupt the flow of the text. Links are provided to the actual illustration and not to the referenced page number.
The book cover has been modified from the original
Missing punctuation has been added and obvious punctuation errors have been corrected.
Printer errors, misspelled and archaic words have been retained with the exception of that noted below.
Page 91: "gods" changed to "goods" (and we again found ourselves on the train with our household goods).