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Meade, L. T., 1854-1914

"The Children's Pilgrimage"

He struggled and tried hard to gain a
firmer footing, but although his struggles certainly kept him alive,
they were hitherto unavailing. Suddenly he heard a cry, and was
conscious that something heavy was springing in the air. This
something was Toby, who, in agony at the condition of Cecile and
Maurice, had gone in search of Joe. He now leaped on to the lad's
shoulder, thus by no means assisting his efforts to free himself.
"Hi, Toby lad! off! off!" he shouted; "back to the firm ground, good
dog."
Toby obeyed, and in so doing Joe managed to catch him by the tail.
It was certainly but slight assistance, but in some wonderful way it
proved itself enough. Joe got out of the drift, and was able to
return with the dog to the friendly shelter of the old wall. There,
indeed, a pang of terror and dismay seized him. Both children, locked
tightly in each other's arms, were sound asleep.
Asleep! Did it only mean sleep? That deathly pallor, that breathing
which came slower and slower from the pretty parted lips! Already the
little hands and feet were cold as death. Joe wondered if even now
could succor come, would it be in time? He turned to the one living
creature besides himself in this scene of desolation.
"Toby," he said, "is there any house near? Toby, if we cannot soon
get help for Cecile and Maurice, they will die. Think, Toby--think,
good dog."
Toby looked hard at Joe Barnes. Then he instantly sat down on his
hind legs. Talk of dogs not having thoughts--Toby was considering
hard just then.


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