Mother had a cousin who was an old man of eighty. He had worked for the Hudson Bay and Great American Fur Companies of John Jacob Astor, carrying great loads of provisions to the trappers all through the Lake Superior country, then taking the loads of fur back to market from the trappers' camps. He being now too old to work, and without a home, my father feeling sorry gave him a home with us. He was so grateful and happy he could scarcely express his gratitude, speaking very little English and that very broken. French, Spanish and Indian he spoke fluently. He was born in Canada of French and Spanish parents. His mother and my mother's mother were sisters. His name was Bertemau Mazoka. The trappers called him Magazau, meaning "store" in English, as with his two dogs, Bob and Maje, he carried a regular store for the trappers. One dog, Maje, had died. Bob, the other, was eighteen years old, and inseparable from the old grandpa, as we children were taught to call him. He loved to have us call him grandpa. He was very kind and patient with us, never tiring of doing something for our comfort. OLD DOG BOB. But Bob, how can I describe him, the old, patient, faithful dog! He was large and powerful, dark brown with darker stripes in color, part bull in breed, but just as gentle and kind in disposition as possible. He had pulled the heavy loads so long he was almost blind, teeth almost gone and rheumatism so bad it was hard for him to get upon his feet when he laid down. When grandpa came bringing Bob he had said in his broken English, "Mr. Whitney you take me, you take Bob too. Me can't stay if Bob no stay." The old dog seemed to know what his master was saying, for he came close to him and looked straight into father's face. Then father said, "Yes, Bob can stay too." He tried to show his delight with his master by jumping about. It would be hard to tell which of us Bob loved the best. I can see him now sitting in some out-of-the-way corner watching us with his great, almost human eyes. He had not always been kindly treated. He seemed to be so afraid to be in anybody's way, and when he saw us petting the other two dogs he would slink away with head down and look so dejected. The young dogs, too, knew he was a stranger and growled at him and bossed him about. Then poor old Bob would go back of the house and cry and whine so pitifully. At last father could stand it no longer and gave the order Bob must not be annoyed any more and must have a bed and lay behind the stove in the big corner, and that no one was ever to speak a cross word or strike Bob. Grandpa cried with delight. BOB'S NEW MASTER.