On the brightest days of all, I noticed a pale-faced lady who came to sit a while in the sunshine, propped up with shawls and pillows. She always brought with her a little sky-terrier, of which she seemed as fond as if it had been a real baby.
After a while, I got acquainted with the lady, and found that her name was Miss Dean, and that her dog was named Skye. He was a shaggy-looking little creature; but he had very bright eyes, and he knew almost as much as the children who played with him. He was very fond of his mistress, and very thoughtful of her comfort.
Let me tell you one thing about him that made me think so. Skye slept in the room with his mistress, on a soft cushion, with a little blanket spread over him; and in the morning, when he woke, if she was still asleep, he never disturbed her. He just sat up on his cushion as still as he could be, and watched her till she woke.

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