Such is the intensity of the love which the lower animals sometimes entertain toward man that they have been known to grieve themselves to death on account of his loss. A dog by the name of Prince, who lived in the family where the writer spent a few weeks of a summer, is a case in point. He had a good master, and one to whom he was strongly attached. The year before the master sickened and died, and Prince felt the loss so keenly that he refused to take any food, and even to notice the surviving members of the family. He was pitiable to behold. Life had lost all attractions to him, and he showed that he was slowly but surely grieving his life away. Some few weeks after the writer’s departure, the poor animal breathed his last, and his spirit, it is to be hoped, went to join that of his master, while his ashes became mingled with the dust of the earth as his master’s had been. What a wonderful power do some animals have of returning to their beloved master, even though they have been conveyed to a considerable distance. This is especially true of the dog. So many examples of such feats are on record that I refrain from mentioning them, but will give but a single example. Rover, a pet greyhound that belonged to the writer, had become such an annoyance to the neighborhood where he lived, that the master determined to provide him a home in the country some fifty miles away. He was conveyed to his destination in a covered wagon, and after his new master had reached home, the poor animal was placed in a stable for several days, where he was daily visited and fed, and every effort possible made to attach him to the place and family. On the fourth day of his arrival he was given his freedom. With a long, loud wail he saluted the neighborhood, and the next moment was off at full speed across the country, all efforts to stop him being unavailing. In less than a week from his leaving he was at home again, hungry and jaded out with fatigue and travel, but not too tired nor too hungry to express the great joy he felt for the old master. How he ever accomplished the journey, and what vicissitudes and difficulties he encountered on the way, no one will ever know. After this I had not the heart to send him away again, but put up with his capers and tricks as best I could, and when complaints were preferred against him endeavored to excuse them as a parent is prone to do in the case of a spoiled and wayward child. But a day arrived when Rover to me was no more. What had become of him I was never able to discover, but I always blamed a near-by neighbor, a man who had neither love nor charity in his soul, for his sudden disappearance.