wife had given me was tied on the handle bar. He sniffed the odor, and looked longingly at me. Several times he put his nose close to the parcel, and then drew back wagging his tail. What he wanted was plain.

When I asked," Are you hungry, old fellow? he put one paw gently on the parcel, and looked me squarely in the face, his expression and motions saying as plainly as words could have done, "Yes, I am hungry; please give me some food."

I took the parcel and gave him a slice of bread; he ate it as if he was almost famished. I gave him another piece flanked with a liberal cutting of bean roast. He devoured that and licked the ground where some of it had fallen. I put the paper containing what was left on the ground; bread, cookies, and all else that was there disappeared with a rapidity that made me wonder at his masticating and digestive powers.

When he had finished eating and had thoroughly licked the paper, he came and laid his head on my knee, with an expression of gratitude that I felt well repaid me for my charity.

When I continued my journey, he followed me up the hill, at the top of which was a Chinese store where I stopped to buy some refreshment for myself, not knowing whether there would be another opportunity to obtain food on the road.

I bought a tin of condensed milk and some hard biscuits, and went into a room in the rear of the shop to eat my breakfast. The dog followed me, and ate the greater part of my purchase. When we both had finished, I mounted my wheel and started on my journey, my new dog friend running along by my side. After a run of two miles I lost sight of him.

I reached my destination in safety, continued my stay there for two days and nights; then I started on my return trip.

When I came to within a short distance of the store where I stopped to purchase food three days before, two medium-sized black dogs appeared in the road and disputed my right to proceed. I was running at a moderate rate of speed, and the sight of my bicycle seemed to enrage them. They growled and barked and sprang at my feet, making desperate efforts to bite me as I rode. Every overture of friendliness was met with louder growls and seemingly greater determination to tear me to pieces.

I fought them off as best I could, and thought I would bear down on the pedals, and perhaps outdistance them, but rounding a bend in the road, a hill stopped me, and I had to walk. With my back against a boulder and my bicycle before me, every limb and muscle of my body was kept

in constant activity to defend myself from the furious onslaught of the vicious brutes.

In the midst of the struggle, I heard the bark of another dog that had been attracted to the fray by the noise my two fierce antagonists were making.

My heart sank within me as the loud yelps of what I thought was reenforcement for my enemy drew nearer. I glanced up, and I saw a large brown dog dashing down the mountain at terrific speed. Could I defend myself against three frenzied dogs at once? A prayer, "Lord, help me," was breathed, and then the newcomer bounded into the road.

There was something familiar about him, and before I could think, he sprang at my nearest antagonist, and sinking his sharp teeth into his victim's neck, he whisked him on to his back in the road while howls of pain filled the air. Dashing at the other, he fought him for a few seconds, concluding by shaking him as a terrier would shake a rat. Then he turned to give his first opponent a second round, but the two former confident canine champions had suddenly become panic-stricken, and with yelps of terror ran down the road with a swiftness that entirely ignored all thought of the dignity of retreat.

The big brown dog was my old friend that I

had fed three days before. He chased his fleeing foes for some distance, but soon returned bounding, barking, and seemingly bubbling over with gladness. I threw my arm around his neck and gave him a genuine hug of gratitude, called him pet names, and patted him until he was almost wild with joy, which he manifested by barking, jumping, licking my hands, and trying to lick my face.

We walked up the hill together, and after mounting my bicycle, I rode at a speed that would permit him easily to follow.

Soon we came to the store where we had eaten together before. I had settled it in my mind that when we reached it, I would present him such a feed as he had never enjoyed before, provided the necessary materials for such a lavish spread were carried in stock by the Chinese merchant. But the best I could obtain for him was some more canned milk and hard biscuits, with a tin of salmon to mix with them.

KINDNESS TO ANIMALS RICHLY
REPAID

JOHN JANEDA dwelt in a house-boat on the Ohio River, near Pittsburgh, Pa. His love for animals drew five stray dogs to his boat, and

saved them from a friendless life of kicks and cuffs and gnawing hunger. In turn, they saved him from death by fire.

Bitty, Jimmy, Brownie, Jack, and Daisy were the names of these five dogs. As the event showed, they were possessed of the stuff from which heroes are made. An opportunity only was needed to demonstrate it.

While their master slept, they kept watch.

But one night fire broke out in this vicinity. Suddenly smoke began to drift into Janeda's bunk-house, and soon the crackle of flames was heard by the dogs above the noise of the river, as the fire commenced eating away at his boat.

Barking and whining, the dogs ran through the fire to the bed of their master, who had been stupefied by the smudge, and pawed at his blankets.

They finally aroused him, and with supreme effort he arose and followed them to safety just in time to escape from the tongue of fire which darted through his room. Fortunately for Janeda, the fire was finally subdued.

Three of the dogs received some burns while on their rescue mission. But they all soon forgot their injuries and scampered joyfully about as Janeda began repairing his house-boat.

His life was saved because of his kindness to