"I'd never ha' been able to shoot the old dog," said Snarley, "if 'the Shepherd' hadn't made me do it. I turned fair sick when I put the charge in the gun, and when I pointed it at him I was in such a tremble that I couldn't aim straight. I tried three or four times to get steady, the dog standin' as still as still all the while, except that he kep' waggin' his tail. "All of a sudden I sees 'the Shepherd,' plain as plain. He were standin' just behind the old dog, strokin' his head. 'Shoot, Snarley,' he sez; 'shoot, and we'll look after him.' 'Stand back, then, Master,' I sez; 'for I'm goin' to fire.' 'Fire,' he sez; 'but aim lower. The shot won't hurt _me_,' and he went on strokin' the dog's head. So I pulls the trigger, and when the smoke cleared 'the Shepherd' were gone, and the dog were lyin' dead as any stone." THE DEATH OF SNARLEY BOB "He'd a rough tongue, sir; but he'd a good 'eart," said the widow of Snarley Bob. "Oh, sir, but he were a wonderful man, were my master. I never knowed one like him--no, nor never 'eard o' one. I didn't think on it while he were living; but now' he's gone I know what I've lost. That clever! Why, he often used to say to me. 'Polly, there ain't a bit of blessed owt as I couldn't do, if I tried.' And it were true, sir. And him nothing but a shepherd all his life, and never earned more'n eighteen shillin' a week takin' it all the year round. And us wi' a family of thirteen children, without buryin' one on 'em, and all married and doin' well. And only one fault, sir, and that not so bad as it is in some. He _would_ have his drop of drink--that is, whenever he could get it. Not that he spent his wages on it, except now and then after the children was growed up. But you see, sir, he was that amusin' in his talk, and folks used to treat him. "Well, sir, it was last Saturday fortnight, as I was tellin' you, he come home for the last time. I can see 'im now, just as he come staggerin' in at that door. I thought when I saw him that he'd had a drop o'drink, though he'd not been 'avin' any for a long time. So I sez to myself, 'I'd better make 'im a cup o' tea,' and I begins puttin' the kettle on the fire. 'What are you doin'?' he sez. 'I'm goin' to give you a cup o' tea,' I sez; 'It'll do yer good.' 'No, it won't,' he sez, 'I've done wi' cups o' tea in this world.' 'Why,' I sez, 'what rubbish! 'Ere, sit yer down, and let me pull yer boots off.' 'You can pull 'em off,' he sez 'but ye'll never see me put 'em on again.'