"
Barbee sprang forward and picked up for him his hat and cane. The
dog, by what seemed the slow action of a mental jackscrew, elevated
his cylinder to the tops of his legs; and presently the two stiff
old bodies turned the corner of the street, one slanting, one
prone: one dotting the bricks with his three legs, the other with
his four.
Formerly the man and the brute had gone each his own way, meeting
only at meal time and at irregular hours of the night in the
Judge's chambers. The Judge had his stories regarding the origin
of their intimacy. He varied these somewhat according to the
sensibilities of the persons to whom they were related--and there
were not many habitues of the sidewalks who did not hear them
sooner or later. "No one could disentangle fact and fiction and
affection in them.
"Some years ago," he said one day to Professor Hardage, "I was a
good deal gayer than I am now and so was he. We cemented a
friendship in a certain way, no matter what: that is a story I'm
not going to tell. And he came to live with me on that footing of
friendship. Of course he was greatly interested in the life of his
own species at that time; he loved part of it, he hated part; but
he was no friend to either. By and by he grew older. Age removed
a good deal of his vanity, and I suppose it forced him to part with
some portion of his self-esteem. But I was growing older myself
and no doubt getting physically a little helpless.
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