“Yes,” said Timothy, “he’s going to live.” When Timothy spoke so positively one could afford to hope.
“Do you hear?” said Billy, capturing the lively puppy, who was behaving like anything but a mourner after the funeral. “We have hopes of you, sir; and beware how you disappoint us. See what obstinacy has done, and take warning by your brothers. I advise you to make the most of all the life you’ll ever get, for it isn’t soul that gives you such a knowing look. There is nothing behind those eyes but brains; and brains die out as much as bodies, sir. Bob,” he exclaimed, “see him look at me. Don’t tell me he doesn’t understand!”
“I wouldn’t risk such an opinion,” said Bob. “They say that eyes are the windows of the mind. Now that he’s got his windows open why shouldn’t you take looks back and forth.”
“Pretty good,” said Billy. “Duke has spied out the fact, somewhere, that I’m his master.”
They had named him, in contempt of Timothy, and in anticipation of the rank which was expected to assert itself with his growth.
“He certainly makes a difference between you and the rest of us,” said Bob.
The difference became more marked each day. In no one’s hand did Duke rub his little nose so often as in his master’s; no one else’s cheeks were licked so affectionately. It was Billy that he trotted after, and squealed for, when the big gate separated them and his master’s face was set towards home. These signs of preference were very flattering to Billy, but also caused him pangs, for the fonder he became of the dog, the more he feared to lose him. Although he increased rapidly in bulk, strength, vivacity and intelligence, it was a long time before Billy could cease to be alarmed if he appeared languid, over-slept, or ate lightly. However, he developed at last into such a sturdy fellow that anxiety on his account was absurd. All lingering doubts as to his loyalty, also, came to an end, for Billy had feared that his best affections might be won over to the master who fed him. But Duke knew his own master, and did not seem disposed to inquire why he was banished from his table.
AFTER HIS MASTER.
The devotion of “Bob’s dog” to Billy was a constant source of surprise to the boys who had not heard the secret of the mastership. Wherever Billy went, the dog was sure to go—unless ordered to the contrary, for whatever Billy ordered, the dog was sure to do. His absolute obedience, rather than natural talent, made him the accomplished fellow which he became. Billy’s will was his dog’s will, and so great was the patience of both teacher and scholar that in course of time there was hardly a dog in town so skilled as Duke in leaping, vaulting, fetching and carrying, so at home on land and water—whether summoned to scour a field, explore a bush, stem a tide, or save a boy from drowning.