My Doggie and I - R. M. Ballantyne

I meant to let fall the curtain at this point but something which I cannot explain induces me to keep it up a few minutes longer, in order to tell you that the little McTougalls grew up to be splendid men and women; that dear old granny is still alive and well, insomuch that she bids fair to become a serene centenarian; that my sweet Edie is now “fair, fat, and forty;” that I am grey and hearty; that Dumps is greyer, and so fat, as well as stiff, that he wags his ridiculous tail with the utmost difficulty; that Brassey and the Slogger have gone into partnership in the green-grocery line round the corner; and that Robin Slidder is no longer a boy, but has become a man and a butler. He is still in our service, and declares that he will never leave it. My firm conviction is that he will keep his word as long as he can.

So now, amiable reader, with regret and the best of wishes, we make our final bow-“wow”—and:

Bid you good-bye,
My doggie and I.

The End.