I wish to relate to you a very affecting story about a good girl who

died when she was thirteen years old. She was an interesting young

girl, and possessed great intellectual powers. She was also very fond

of the works of nature, especially of flowers, and would often say,

"How good God is to make these beautiful flowers for us to enjoy."

Soon it was very evident to her friends that disease was preying on

her delicate
onstitution. She bore all her sickness with calm

submission, and when she died she appeared to all who knew her to be

prepared for heaven. While she was sick, her parents did every thing

to make her comfortable and happy. They had a dog which Lizzy set a

great deal by, and with him she used to play in the house and in the

garden. When Lizzy was so sick that she could not play with him, he

would come and lay himself down at her bed side, and appeared to be

very sad on her account. When she died [and] was buried, the dog

followed with the parents in the funeral, to the grave-yard where

Lizzy was laid away. One day, about five months afterwards, I went

with her father to see the grave of Lizzy.

As we went into the grave-yard, we walked slowly along, reading the

names of persons buried there, while the dog followed us. We soon

missed the dog, supposing he had wandered into some other part of the

cemetery. But when we came within a few yards of Lizzy's grave we saw

him sitting at its head, leaning against the stone which was erected

in memory of the lovely daughter. It was a very affecting scene--the

attachment of the dog, as well as the power of his memory. Dogs are

faithful creatures, and we can never bear to see them abused. Be kind

to them and they will be kind to you.