“Then the leg began to bother him, and I tried every known expedient short of amputation. If I had done that in time he might have lived longer, but I hesitated, and Jim died, conscious and knowing me.
“That was more than a year ago, but I have not forgotten. There never was but one Jim, and no other dog can be the same to me. One thing, though, Jim has done for his fellows,—he has made me think of and treat all dogs differently for his sake, and remembering him and what he was, knocking about as I do, I’m fast getting to believe that dogs are almost the only friends one has that can be quite trusted. If a man is old or young, rich or poor, a dog sees no fault in his master.”
A man seldom has the relief of tears that helps a woman, but instead, sorrow grasps his throat and chokes him, and there were tears in the doctor’s voice as he closed his watch on Jim’s portrait.
“Do have a cup of coffee, Miss Jule, dear. You must be done up,” said Anna Maria, who also looked awry and as if she had been up all night, as she bustled into the stable with coffee-pot and cups on a tray, which she set on top of the nearest feed-bin, while Martin emerged from below, where he had been ducking his head in a pail of water in order to appear fully awake. “And the doctor here, too; he must be faintin’, for he was the fore half of the night at the Ridge with Squire Burley’s old mare, the drivin’ boy says,” she added, hurrying back to the house.
Miss Jule filled two cups, and handed one to the doctor. Anna Maria had forgotten the spoons, so they stirred the coffee with stout straws.
Miss Jule raised the cup to her lips, and then paused, saying, “To the friendship of two faithful dogs, Ben Uncas and Jim,” and they drank the coffee slowly and in silence.
Quick was to have gone to his youthful new owners that same day, and Mr. Hugh thoughtfully slipped over and took him away before Miss Jule awoke from her belated sleep, so that two members of the hunting club vanished at the same time, and it disbanded as if by mutual consent; for Waddles and Tip at least seemed to comprehend what had happened, and Colin, who was himself growing old, became more reliable, and seldom left his mistress.
“Let’s go up and hug Miss Jule and tell her how sorry we are, and lend her the sixlets for a week to ’muse her,” said tender-hearted Tommy, when he heard the news.