The policeman was a kindly man, and, taking some food from his pocket, he offered it to the dog, talking to him and patting him. But the dog refused all kindness for himself. That was not what he wanted. It seemed as if tears were almost in his eyes, and he spoke as plainly as a dog could speak, looking from the policeman over to the great lonely park. The officer more than half understood him, but he was not allowed to leave his beat. The dog continued his pleading until he saw that it was of no avail. He ran back into the park and up the hill to the top, where on the walk he sniffed around the Bishop’s stockings that lay where Janet had dropped them. Then, with a piteous cry, he sprang down the steep side of the hill, and the water once more seemed to smile as it gently rippled to the bank.
TRANSCRIBER’S NOTE
Punctuation has been made consistent.
Variations in hyphenation have been retained as they were in the original publication.