Page:The Strand Magazine (Volume 6).djvu/622
"In memory of my dear little 'Bunda,' 9 October, 1891.—A. F. C."
"My 'Bogie,' 14.7, 1891."
"'Flo,' June, 1891."
"'Loo-Loo' and 'Bliss,' 1882-91."
"Dear 'Daisy,' January, 1890."
"To dear 'Centi,' the loved companion of 12 years, Sept., 1889."
"In Tender Memory of Sweet little 'Tiny.'"
"Sprite."
"In Memory of 'Jack,' July, 1892."
"'Mona,' born 2nd November, 1878, died 15th August, 1892."
Loved, mourned, and missed.
"In Loving Memory of my darling little 'Cirrie,' died March 14th, 1893.—J. R. F."
"A. J. H.—Our dog 'Prince.'"
"Alas! Poor 'Zoe.'"
Born 1st October, 1879.
Died 3rd August, 1892.
As deeply mourned as ever dog was mourned,
For friendship rare by her adorned.
"Darling "Vic,' died 1892."
"'Topsy.' Nov. 17, 1883.
"'Topsy.'Jan. 16, 1893."
'Fanny' and 'Nelly.'"
Love's tribute to love.
"Dear little 'Tommy.'"
"Sweet little 'Skye.' Sept., 1882."
ANOTHER VIEW OF THE TOMBSTONES.
From a Photo. by Elliott & Fry.
"Poor 'Cherry.' Died 28 April, 1881."
"'Kaiser.' Died 15 April, 1886."
"To Poor 'Jack.' 3.7/92.—C. H. C."
"Dear 'Waldine.' May 13, 1893."
"Dear little 'Peggie.'"
"'Topper.' Hyde Park Police-station.
Died, 9.6.93."
"'Boxer.' 1893."
Not one of these inscriptions can be characterized as gushy or foolishly sentimental. On the contrary, their simplicity and brevity are alike touching. "The loved companion of twelve years" is all that onc of them says. Poor little "Centi"! What a pang his loss must have occasioned! For twelve years he had wagged his little tail; for twelve years his master or mistress had patted him on the head, had stroked and caressed him, probably personally fed and washed him. For twelve years he had been a faithful and affectionate companion. How many human beings would have shown the like constancy? And now he is gone, and all that is left of him is a tiny mound of earth and a diminutive matble tombstone. Twelve years is a slice out of one's life. It is nearly half a generation. The friendships formed and the associations made for such a period are not easily effaced, and can never be replaced. That, indeed, is the saddest feature of the whole question of pets. They are short-lived. One has scarcely time to grow fond of them, to find them entwined in our hearts, before they are rudely wrenched away from us by the cruel hand of Death.
How suggestive is the name of "Smut," dear little "Smut"! We can almost see him standing before us. "Smut" must have been a pug dog—we are positive that he was a pug—a pug with a delicious black nose, which looked as though he had popped his head into the coal-scuttle, and with large, affectionate eyes, made in-