I cannot recall that it grated on my feelings that the empty place of my dead pet should be filled up. I daresay I made some protest at first—that I would not be consoled, and that I could never like (we say _like_ in Scotland, where an English child would say _love_) another doggie as I had liked Fido. But I was not then sufficiently faithful—or shall I say proud and passionate enough?—to be long able to resist the prospect of the dreary blank in the house and in my affections having another occupant, with the wholesome hope that I might take to it and be comforted, though I did not forget Fido. I know I went in great glee, in the company of a sister a little older than myself, to the village where we had heard of a suitable dog for sale—indeed, I think we had gone and inspected it previously—and where we were to pay down our purchase-money—it was no more than five shillings—and receive our prize, which had belonged previously to a tradesman. The dog was a small black and white animal, with straight sleek hair, and a pretty round face, set between pendant ears. I was a timid child, and did not venture to lay hands on our purchase while it was yet strange to us, and my sister undertook to carry it home in her arms. On our way we encountered a gentleman who was an acquaintance of the family, and who, not understanding how we were situated, insisted on shaking hands with us children. My sister was compelled partly to let go her captive—it did not escape, it only scrambled to her shoulder, from which she was unable to dislodge it, and where, to our affront, it stood barking wrathfully at the new-comer. The dog had been named “Jessie Mackie,” a very human title, of which we did not approve for a dog, and so we called her “Rona,” the name of a dog of a friend’s friend. The title struck our fancy, and we believed that it had belonged originally to an island on the west coast of Scotland—rather a dignified source for a name. But I cannot say that I ever met any person who had visited the island of Rona, or who could tell exactly whereabouts in the Atlantic—from wild St. Kilda to wooded Rothesay—it was to be found.