XIX.—MEPHISTOPHELES.
By Anna Gardner.
In that beautiful suburb of Philadelphia known as Germantown, lived a beautiful little gray Skye terrier with a very long name,—Mephistopheles. He was called Meph, for short; and a remarkably intelligent dog he was.
At one time Meph's master, who is a well known physician of Germantown, was ill. In the middle of the night, the dog bounded to the side of the bed, and laying its paw upon the arm of its master endeavored to awaken him. Having succeeded, it tried in various ways to attract his attention to the opposite side of the room; repeatedly leaving the bed and returning.
Unwilling to be disturbed, the invalid remained some time without noticing his little pet. But the animal became so importunate that the doctor could no longer remain impassive. He arose, and, following the dog to the bay-window on the other side of the room, he found, to his astonishment, that a goldfish had leaped out of the aquarium, and was panting almost lifeless on the carpet.
Meph evinced much joy when his master restored the fish to its watery home; and the doctor fondly caressed Meph, who quietly returned to his cushion bed, seeming perfectly satisfied with having performed his mission and saved the life of the fish.
He must have evolved the idea that all was not right—that the fish was "out of its sphere."
This dog met an untimely death through the cruelty of a man, who, on account of some trivial annoyance, put an end to poor Meph's career. The man might have learned a lesson of kindness from the little creature he wantonly murdered.