Chapter 296 of 1964 · 62 words · ~1 min read

LVIII.

A small old spaniel,--which had been Don José's, His father's, whom he loved, as ye may think, For on such things the memory reposes With tenderness--stood howling on the brink, Knowing, (dogs have such intellectual noses!) No doubt, the vessel was about to sink; And Juan caught him up, and ere he stepped Off threw him in, then after him he leaped.[116]