DRAWING WATER
Some years ago, a donkey was employed at Carisbrook Castle, in the Isle of Wight, in drawing water by means of a large wheel from a very deep well, thought to have been sunk by the Romans. When the keeper wanted water, he would say to the donkey, “Tom, my boy, I want water; get into the wheel, my lad.” Thomas, thereupon, got in, with a speed and wisdom that would have done credit to a nobler animal. No doubt he knew the exact number of times the wheel had to turn upon its axis to bring up the bucket, because every time he brought it to the surface of the well, he stopped and turned round his honest head to note the moment when his master laid hold of the bucket to draw it toward him, because he had then a nice turn to make either to draw back, or to go ahead a little. It was pleasing to see with what steadiness and regularity the poor animal did his work.
XXX
THE BROKEN HEART
During the French Revolution M. des R——, an ancient magistrate and most estimable man, was condemned to die on the charge of conspiracy, and was thrown into prison. M. des R—— had a water spaniel, which had been brought up by him, and was always with him. Shut out of the prison, he returned to his master's house, and found it closed. He then took refuge with a neighbor. Every day at the same hour, the dog left the house, and went straight to the door of the prison, where he whined mournfully. He was refused admittance, but each day he spent an hour before the door, and then went away. His fidelity at last won over the porter, and one day he was allowed to enter. The dog saw his master and clung to him. The jailer could hardly drive him away. He came back the next morning, and every day; once each day he was admitted. He licked the hand of his friend, looked him in the face, again licked his hand, and went away of his own accord.
After the execution, at which the dog was present, he walked by the side of the corpse to its burial place, and after the ceremony laid himself upon the grave. There he passed the first night, the next day, and the next night. The neighbor, in the meantime, unhappy at not seeing him, went in search of his friend, and found him by his master's grave. He caressed him and made him eat a little food. He even coaxed the faithful creature away for a few moments, but he soon returned to his master's grave. Three months passed. The dog came each morning to get his food, and then returned to the grave. Each day he was more sad, more lean, more feeble. He was chained up, but broke his fetters; escaped; returned to the grave, and never left it more. It was in vain that they tried to get him back. They carried him food, but he ate no longer. For hours he was seen digging up with his weakened limbs the earth that separated him from his beloved master. Passion gave him strength, and at last he was near to the body. Then his faithful heart gave way, and he breathed out a last gasp, as if he knew he had found his master.
