A blind beggar used to be led about the streets of Rome by a dog of
middle size. This dog led his master so as to protect him from all
danger, and he learned to distinguish, not only the streets, but the
houses where his master was accustomed to receive alms twice or thrice a
week. Whenever the animal came to any of these streets, with which he
was well acquainted, he would not leave it till a call had been made at
every house where his master was usually successful in his petitions.
When the beggar began to ask alms, the dog, being wearied, lay down to
rest; but the master was no sooner served, or refused, than the dog
rose, and without either order or sign, proceeded to the other houses,
where the beggar generally received some gratuity. If a halfpenny was
thrown from a window, such were the sagacity and attention of this dog,
that he went about in quest of it, lifted it from the ground with his
mouth, and put it into his master’s hat. Even when bread was thrown
down, the animal would not taste it, unless he received a portion of it
from the hand of his master. When the beggar was very weary, he would
sometimes lean his head on the top of his staff and doze for a moment or
two. Then the dog would sit down and watch him, and as soon as his
master started, the faithful creature was up in an instant, ready for
another march.
[Illustration:
~Third Day.~
The Blind Beggar and his dog. p. 46.
]
* * * * *
Mary’s scholars thought that was a beautiful story, and they were eager
to hear something more about dogs.
Mary told them, that if they chose to remain in school, instead of going
out to play at recess-time, she would read to them another story. So
they all agreed to give up the recess-play, for the sake of another
story.