The tears were too near his eyelids to permit of speech without giving them an opportunity to flow, and he paid no attention to his best clothes as he took Towser in his arms and kissed him again and again.
Every thump of the dog’s tail against his side seemed like a reproach because he was willing to go away even for so short a time; and when, with many a puff and hiss, the steaming engine brought the long train of cars to a standstill, the traveler could not even bid his father adieu.
“Be a good boy, Josiah; don’t get into mischief; and I’ll come for you bright and early Saturday.”
Without replying, Josiah went quickly into the cars lest his tears should be seen; and seating himself at the window he watched Towser, who ran back and forth on the platform in the greatest anxiety because his young master had disappeared from view.
This was not calculated to dispel the sorrow in the boy’s heart; and when the train moved away, Towser following to the very borders of the settlement, Josiah could control his feelings no longer.
Leaning his head on the window-frame, he gave full sway to grief; and when the tears had ceased flowing sufficiently for him to look out once more, there was no familiar object in sight.
Berry’s Corner was far away; and as he thought of this fact there might have been another shower of tears if the newsboy had not thrown into the seat a package of candy with, perhaps, the well-meant advice:—
“Better buy that, bub! Only ten cents, an’ a prize in every lot! It’ll kinder keep your mind off the calves you’re leavin’ behind.”
This last remark may have been intended as a joke; but Josiah’s heart was too sore to admit of his taking it as such, and he answered indignantly:—
“If you ever owned a calf as good as mine, you’d be sorry to leave him.”