Patrasche lay still in the grass ditch.
His cruel master had left him and was now far away.
The road was busy, and hundreds of people passed by.
Some were on foot, and some rode horses.
Some people saw him, but most did not even look.
No one stopped.
A dead dog was not worth a thought.
After a while, a little old man who was bent and lame came by.
A little boy walked with him.
The old man looked at the dog with pity, and the little boy too.
They knelt down beside the dog.
With much effort, the old man lifted Patrasche out of the ditch.
Then he and the boy carried Patrasche back home to their little hut.
The old man's name was Jehan.
When Jehan had turned eighty, his daughter had died.
He was asked to look after her two-year-old son.
The old man could barely support himself, but he took the little boy willingly.
Jehan's grandson was named Nello.
They lived at the edge of a small village in a small but clean mud hut.
They kept a little garden where they grew beans and pumpkins and herbs.
There were only two dozen houses in the village.
Their walls were painted white and shone in the sun like snow.
They had colorful red roofs and shutters of bright green or sky blue.
In the center of the village stood a red windmill.
Around Jehan's hut stretched flat pastures and fields of corn.
A great canal ran through the village and the fields.
On both sides of the canal, long lines of poplar trees bent their branches in the breeze.
Across the fields, the distant town of Antwerp was just visible on the horizon.
But the tall spire of the Antwerp cathedral stood out.
It shone bright in the morning sun, and at dusk, its shadow stood out against the clouds.
Jehan and Nello made Patrasche a little straw bed in the corner of their hut.
He was very weak, but still alive.
For many days, Patrasche lay there, not moving.
At night, Nello stayed awake, listening anxiously to his breathing.
Jehan could not give Patrasche much food.
He barely had enough for himself and his grandson.
In his youth, Jehan had been a soldier.
But his leg had been injured during the war.
This made it difficult for him to work, and he had been poor ever since.
Some days, Jehan and Nello had nothing to eat.
But even though their lives were hard, they were content.
Jehan was very gentle and good to the boy, and the boy was beautiful, truthful, and kind.
During Patrasche's long recovery, Nello and his grandfather grew very fond of him.
Nello leaned his cheek against Patrasche's fur at night, and they both slept soundly.
Patrasche became part of their little family.
One day, Patrasche made a noise, a little bark.
Jehan and Nello laughed and then wept with joy.
Little Nello made a necklace of flowers for Patrasche and hugged him around his huge neck.
Patrasche was getting better.
A few weeks later, Patrasche's health and strength returned.
He stood up, and his big brown eyes showed surprise.
Nobody was hitting him or cursing him.
He looked lovingly at Jehan and Nello.
He owed them his life.