“‘What makes you love him so, dear?’
“‘Because he did that for me,’ said Norman, opening his eyes once more to look at her, and then re-shutting them. And he never opened them again. It seemed that having his mind easy about his pet, and having seen his friends, he wanted nothing more on this earth. He just slumbered away a few hours, and died so, as quietly as he had slept. His little pale meek face looked as if, as he said, he was glad to go.
“Nothing but a degree of force that no one would use could have moved Long-Ears from the body of his master, till it was laid in the grave. Then, with some difficulty, Mrs. Meadow gained possession of him, and brought him home.”
“Is that all?” said Carl, when the story stopped.
“All.”
“What more of Mrs. Meadow and Silky?”
“Nothing more. They lived there, and took care of Long-Ears, and were kind to everybody, and sold milk, just as they used.”
“And what about Long-Ears?”
“Nothing about him. He lived there with Mrs. Meadow and Silky, and was as well off as a little dog could be.”