Gilead Balm Knight Errant by Bernard Capes

Gilead had often encountered in the _Daily Post_ -- sandwiched, say, between a heart-moving appeal on behalf of the outcast and houseless, and a last drowning cry for help from a soul almost submerged -- a plea for some dog or cat seeking a kind home, and had reflected on the curious variety and varied quality of the petitions which a medium for benevolence was calculated to attract. He hoped that those, thus fondly appealing to charity for their animal beloveds, were in the habit of scrutinizing the lists in which their advertisements appeared, and of justifying their own title to help in one form by vouchsafing it in another. But he believed he had always noticed that an excessive devotion to animals entailed a rather ironic attitude towards the needs of the human family, and it was in no very sympathetic mood, therefore, that he read the first words of the following advertisement, which his secretary one morning pointed out to him: --

"_Will anyone give a kind home to Pilot, a dog. O, please do help! / This is genuine. No money-lenders need apply. Address Judy, Marshlock / Old Rectory, Shipton-on-Thames._"