"DIGNITY AND IMPUDENCE." 127

house on tiptoe, and, if he found an open window on the
ground floor, crept in and hid himself beneath a convenient
sofa or bed, in a short-sighted, childish notion that he might
evade the righteous sentence he had provoked.
 On the last secret hunt in which the dog-friends engaged,
Wallace was so enfeebled by age that the exertion exhausted
the little strength left to him, and he was unable to return
home. Dick had to face the wrath of his master alone, while
he was unable to account for his missing comrade.
 Happily the mastiff reached a neighboring farm-house,
where he was recognised-for he was a well-known and valued
dog-and where he was hospitably entertained, till word could
be sent to his master, who despatched a cart for the disabled
sportsman. But fancy the mortification of poor Wallace, once
so invulnerable at every point, so renowned a warrior and
hunter, to be brought home like a dead donkey, stretched at
the bottom of a cart !
 Wallace survived his last hunt some time, but the evidence
of the decay of his powers became always more unmistakable.
He was a mere bony wreck of what he had been. He sub-
sisted principally on great diets" of milk freely lavished
on him to prolong his days. At last he fell into a habit of
stealing away and secreting himself in some solitary spot of
the garden or grounds, an ominous inclination which super-
stitious servants called looking for his grave," and that was
in reality prompted by the curious pathetic instinct which
causes every stricken animal to draw away from the herd, and
hide itself from its kind.
 But Wallace was not to die apart from human hands and
the friends he had loved. No one saw him die; but a servant,