{"collection":"folklore-oral-tradition","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_31847/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_31847","id":"gutenberg_31847","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/31847","summary":null,"tags":["Animals-Domestic","Category: British Literature","Category: Short Stories","Dogs -- Folklore"],"text":"Produced by Irma Spehar, Christine D. and the Online\nDistributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This\nfile was produced from images generously made available\nby The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTranscriber's Note:\nPunctuation, Spelling and Geographical errors retained as found in\nthe original.\n\n\n\n\n_DOG STORIES._\n\n\n\n\nDOG STORIES\n\n_FROM THE \"SPECTATOR\"_\n\n\n  BEING ANECDOTES OF THE INTELLIGENCE, REASONING\n  POWER, AFFECTION AND SYMPATHY OF\n  DOGS, SELECTED FROM THE CORRESPONDENCE\n  COLUMNS OF \"THE SPECTATOR\"\n\n_WITH AN INTRODUCTION_\n\nBY\n\nJ. ST. LOE STRACHEY\n\n  NEW YORK: MACMILLAN AND CO.\n  MDCCCXCV\n\n     \"Sir, to leave things out of a book, merely because people\n     tell you they will not be believed, is meanness.\"\n\n     (_Dr. Johnson._)\n\n\n_All rights reserved._\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS.\n\n                                              PAGE\n\n  INTRODUCTION                                   7\n\n  SYLLOGISTIC DOGS                              15\n\n  THE REASONING POWER OF DOGS                   49\n\n  EMOTION AND SENTIMENT IN DOGS                 99\n\n  DOGS AND THE ARTS                            119\n\n  DOG FRIENDSHIPS                              131\n\n  CURIOUS HABITS OF DOGS                       155\n\n  THE SENSE OF HUMOUR AND CUNNING IN DOGS      165\n\n  USEFUL DOGS                                  177\n\n  MISCELLANEOUS                                193\n\n\n\n\nINTRODUCTION.\n\n\nI.\n\nThe following Dog Stories are taken from the pages of the _Spectator_,\nwith the permission of the editors and proprietors. It was suggested to\nme by Mr. Fisher Unwin that the many strange and pleasant stories of\ndogs which from time to time are sent to the _Spectator_ by its\ncorrespondents would, if put together, form a volume of no little\nentertainment for all who love dogs, or are interested in stories of\nanimal intelligence. Up till now the _Spectator_ dog stories, after the\nweek of their publication, have practically been inaccessible to the\ngeneral reader; for he is a bold man who will attack a bound volume of a\nnewspaper in search of amusement. Though I at once agreed that the\nsuggested book would be a very readable one, and likely to please\ndog-lovers all the world over, I did not, till the selection was nearly\nmade, realise how much the stories gain by being grouped together. A\nsingle story of a clever dog may amuse, but it is liable to be put aside\nas an accident, a coincidence, a purely exceptional circumstance which\nproves nothing. If, however, instead of a single story we have half a\ndozen illustrating the same form of intelligence, the value of the\nevidence is enormously increased, and a collection of dog stories may\nbecome of very great value in determining such questions as the power of\ndogs to act on reason as well as on instinct, or their ability to\nunderstand human language. The solution of these problems is, I cannot\nhelp thinking, materially advanced by the stories in the present book.\nTake, again, the group of stories which I have labelled Purchasing Dogs.\nOne sample of this kind might, as I have noted above, be put off as a\ncase of imperfect observation, or as a curious coincidence; but when we\nget a whole group of stories it becomes very difficult to doubt that\ndogs may learn the first principles of the science of exchange. The\nItalian dog (page 59) which did the narrator a service by fetching him\ncigars, demanded payment in the shape of a penny, and then used that\npenny by exchanging it for a loaf, was far advanced in the practice of\nPolitical Economy. He not only understood and acted on an implied\ncontract, but realised the great fact at the back of the currency. \"What\nare guineas,\" said Horne Tooke, \"but tickets for sheep and oxen!\" The\nItalian dog did not, like a savage, say, \"What is the use of copper to\nme, I cannot eat it?\" Instead, he perceived that the piece of copper was\na ticket for bread. It should be noted too that this dog, the dog called\nHardy (page 57) and others, were able to distinguish between the pieces\nof copper given them. Again, the Glasgow story (page 53) shows that a\ndog can learn to realise that a halfpenny will buy not merely one thing\nbut several things--in fact, that the great advantage of exchange by\ncurrency over barter is that it gives you a choice. While on the subject\nof purchasing dogs, it is curious to reflect how very little is wanted\nto convert the dog that is able to purchase into a free agent. If a dog\ncan exchange his faculty for cigar carrying or his tricks against\nhalf-pence, why should he not exchange useful services, such as guarding\na house or herding sheep, and so become self-supporting? Imagine a\ncollie paid by the day, and, when his work was over, receiving twopence\nand going off to buy his supper. But the vista opened is too\nfar-reaching. One sees down it dogs paid by the hour and by the piece,\nand then dogs asking for better pay and shorter hours, and, finally,\ndogs on strike, and dog \"black-legs,\" or \"free dogs.\"\n\n\nII.\n\nA word should be said as to the authenticity of the stories in the\npresent volume. It is a matter of common form for the evening newspapers\nto talk of the _Spectator_ dog stories as hoaxes, and to refer in their\nplayful, way to \"another _Spectator_ dog.\" It might not then unnaturally\nhave been supposed that a person undertaking to edit and reprint these\nstories would have found a considerable number that showed signs of\nbeing hoaxes. I may confess, indeed, that I set out with the notion of\nforming a sort of Appendix to the present work, which should be headed\n\"Ben Trovato,\" in which should be inserted stories which were too\ncurious and amusing to be left out altogether, but which, on the other\nhand, were what the Americans call a little \"too tall\" to be accepted as\ngenuine. The result of my plan was unexpected. Though I found many\nstories in which the inferences seemed strained or mistaken, and others\nwhich contained indications of exaggeration, I could find but two\nstories which could reasonably be declared as only suitable for a \"Ben\nTrovato.\" I therefore suppressed my heading. The truth is that the\nanimal stories are much more carefully sifted at the _Spectator_ office\nthan our witty critics and contemporaries will admit. No stories are\never published unless the names and addresses of the writers are\nsupplied, and all stories are rejected which have anything clearly\nsuspicious about them. What the editors of the _Spectator_ do not do is\nto reject a dog-story because it states that a dog has been observed to\ndo something which has never been reported as having been done by a dog\nbefore, or at any rate, something which is not universally admitted to\nbe doable by a dog. Apparently this willingness to print stories which\nenlarge our notions of animal intelligence is regarded in certain\nquarters as a sign that the _Spectator_ will swallow anything, and that\nits stories must be apocryphal. I cannot, however, help thinking that\nall who care for the advancement of knowledge in regard to animals\nshould be grateful to the editors of the _Spectator_ for not adopting\nthe plan of excluding all dog stories that do not correspond with an\nabstract ideal of canine intelligence. Had they acted on the principle\nof putting every anecdote that seemed _prima facie_ unlikely into the\nwaste-paper basket, they would certainly have missed a great many\nstories of real value. In truth, there is nothing so credulous as\nuniversal incredulity. An attitude of general incredulity means a blind\nbelief in the existing state of opinion. If we believe that animals have\nno reasoning power, and refuse to examine evidence that is brought to\nshow the contrary, we are adopting, the attitude of those who disbelieve\nthat the earth goes round the sun because they seem daily to see a proof\nof an exactly opposite proposition. If people are to refuse to believe\nanything of a dog that does not sound likely on the face of it, we shall\nnever get at the truth about animal intelligence. What is wanted is the\ncareful preservation and collection of instances of exceptional\nintelligence.\n\n\nIII.\n\nBefore I conclude this Introduction, I should like to address a word of\napology to the correspondents of the _Spectator_ whose letters form the\npresent volume. Though the copyright of the letters belongs to the\neditors and proprietors of the _Spectator_ I should have liked to ask\nthe leave of the various writers before republishing their letters.\nPhysical difficulties have, however rendered this impossible. In the\ncase of nearly half the letters the names and addresses have not been\npreserved. In many instances, again, only the names remain. Lastly, a\nlarge number of the letters are ten or twelve, or even twenty years old,\nand the writers may therefore be dead or out of England. Under these\ncircumstances I have not made any effort to enter into communication\nwith the writers before including their letters in this book. That their\npermission would have been given, had it been asked, I do not doubt. The\noriginal communication of the letters to the _Spectator_ is proof that\nthe writers wished a public use to be made of the anecdotes they relate.\nAs long, then, as the letters are not altered or edited, but produced\nverbatim, I may, I think, feel assured that I am doing nothing which is\neven remotely discourteous to the writers.\n\n\n\n\n_SYLLOGISTIC DOGS._\n\n\n\n\nA DOG ON LONG SERMONS.\n\n          [_Aug. 4, 1888._]\n\nDuring a recent journey in Canada, I met with a striking instance of\nreason in a dog. I was staying at the Mohawk Indian Institution,\nBrantford, Ontario. The Rev. R. Ashton, superintendent of the school, is\nalso incumbent of the neighbouring Mohawk Church (the oldest Protestant\nchurch in Canada). Mr. Ashton is very fond of animals, and has many\npets. One of these, a black-and-tan terrier, always accompanies the\nninety Indian children to church on Sunday morning. He goes to the\naltar-rails, and lies down facing the congregation. When they rise to\nsing, he rises; and when they sit, he lies down. One day, shortly before\nmy visit, a stranger-clergyman was preaching, and the sermon was longer\nthan usual. The dog grew tired and restless, and at last a thought\noccurred to him, upon which he at once acted. He had observed that one\nof the elder Indian boys was accustomed to hand round a plate for alms,\nafter which the service at once concluded. He evidently thought that if\nhe could persuade this boy to take up the collection, the sermon must\nnaturally end. He ran down to the back seat occupied by the boy, seated\nhimself in the aisle, and gazed steadfastly in the boy's face. Finding\nthat no notice was taken, he sat up and \"begged\" persistently for some\ntime, to Mr. Ashton's great amusement. Finally, as this also failed, the\ndog put his nose under the lad's knee, and tried with all his strength\nto force him out of his place, continuing this at intervals till the\nsermon was concluded.\n\nDid not this prove a distinct power of consecutive reasoning?\n\n          A. H. A.\n\n\nA COMMERCIAL TREATY BETWEEN A DOG AND A HEN.\n\n          [_July 7, 1888._]\n\nYour dog-loving readers may be interested in the following instance of\nanimal sagacity. Bob is a fine two-year-old mastiff, with head and face\nof massive strength, heightened by great mildness of expression. One day\nhe was seen carrying a hen, very gently, in his mouth, to the kennel.\nPlacing her in one corner, he stood sentry while she laid an egg, which\nhe at once devoured. From that day the two have been fast friends, the\nhen refusing to lay anywhere but in \"Bob's\" kennel, and getting her\nreward in the dainty morsels from his platter. There must have been a\nbit of canine reasoning here. \"Bob\" must have found eggs to his liking,\nthat they were laid by hens, and that he could best secure a supply by\nhaving a hen to himself.\n\n          THOMAS HAMER.\n\n\nA DOG NURSE.\n\n          [_Feb. 20, 1875._]\n\nA patient recently consulted me who was blind and subject to fits. I\npointed out to her friends the danger to which she was exposed in case a\nfit came on when she was in the vicinity of a fire, and they informed me\nthat she incurred little or no risk, because a favourite dog ran at once\nand fetched assistance the moment a fit came on. This intelligent animal\nwould rush into the next house barking eagerly, would seize the dress of\nthe woman who lived there, and drag her to the assistance of his\nmistress. If one did not go, he would seize another, and exhibited the\nmost lively symptoms of distress until his object was accomplished.\n\n          CHARLES BELL TAYLOR, M.D., F.R.C.S.\n\n\nINSTINCT, OR REASON?\n\n          [_Sept. 1, 1888._]\n\nThe following incident in dog-life may perhaps find a place in the\n_Spectator_. I quote from a letter received a few days ago from my\nnephew, \"T. G. T.,\" resident in South Africa:--\"Johannesburg,\nTraansvaal.--My dog Cherry has had three great pups, and I had to leave\nher behind at the Grange. When I was going away, Cherry and the pups\nwere located in some stables. She came out and watched the tent-truck\nand my things packed up. Presently I went away, and when I came back I\nfound Cherry had carried all the pups on to the top of my luggage, and\nevidently had not the least intention of staying behind.\"\n\n          T. W. T.\n\n\nHOSPITAL DOGS.\n\n          [_June 26, 1875._]\n\nDr. Walter F. Atlee writes to the editor of the _Philadelphia Medical\nTimes_:--\n\n\"In a letter recently received from Lancaster, where my father resides,\nit is said:--'A queer thing occurred just now. Father was in the office,\nand heard a dog yelping outside the door; he paid no attention until a\nsecond and louder yelp was heard, when he opened it, and found a little\nbrown dog standing on the step upon three legs. He brought him in, and\non examining the fourth leg, found a pin sticking in it. He drew out the\npin, and the dog ran away again.' The office of my father, Dr. Atlee, is\nnot directly on the street, but stands back, having in front of it some\nsix feet of stone wall with a gate. I will add, that it has not been\npossible to discover anything more about this dog.\n\n\"This story reminds me of something similar that occurred to me while\nstudying medicine in this same office nearly thirty years ago. A man,\nnamed Cosgrove, the keeper of a low tavern near the railroad station,\nhad his arm broken, and came many times to the office to have the\ndressings arranged. He was always accompanied by a large, most\nferocious-looking bull-dog, that watched me most attentively, and most\nunpleasantly to me, while bandaging his master's arm. A few weeks after\nCosgrove's case was discharged, I heard a noise at the office door, as\nif some animal was pawing it, and on opening it, saw there this huge\nbull-dog, accompanied by another dog that held up one of its front legs,\nevidently broken. They entered the office. I cut several pieces of wood,\nand fastened them firmly to the leg with adhesive plaster, after\nstraightening the limb. They left immediately. The dog that came with\nCosgrove's dog I never saw before nor since.\"\n\nDo not these stories adequately show that the dogs reasoned and drew new\ninferences from a new experience?\n\n          B.\n\n\n          [_April 6, 1889._]\n\nKnowing your interest in dogs, I venture to send you the following\nstory. A week or two ago, the porter of the Bristol Royal Infirmary was\ndisturbed one morning about 6.30 by the howling of a dog outside the\nbuilding. Finding that it continued, he went out and tried to drive it\naway; but it returned and continued to howl so piteously, that he was\nobliged to go out to it again. This time he observed that one of its\npaws was injured. He therefore brought it in and sent for two nurses,\nwho at once dressed the paw, and were rewarded by every canine sign of\ngratitude, including much licking of their hands. The patient was\n\"retained\" for two days, during which time he received every attention\nfrom those inside the house, and from the neighbours outside, who\nquickly heard of the case. As no one appeared to claim the dog, he was\nsent to the Home for Lost Dogs in the city, where so interesting an\nanimal was, of course, not long in finding a purchaser. The dog was one\nof those called \"lurchers.\"\n\nI have myself called on the porter of the infirmary for confirmation of\nthe story, and am assured by him of its truth. How did an apparently\nfriendless dog know where to go for surgical aid? The case differs from\nthat of the dog which took its friend for treatment to King's College\nHospital in London, for I understand that the King's College dog had\npreviously been taken to the hospital for treatment itself; but in this\ncase there is no such clue.\n\n          HELEN M. STURGE.\n\n\nFEATURES IN THE CHARACTER OF A DOG.\n\n          [_June 10, 1876._]\n\nFor some time past I have noticed in your journal letters and articles\nreferring to the wonderful powers of dogs. As I was myself much struck\nby many features in the character of a dog which I knew, illustrating,\nas I think, not only affection, but reasoning faculties, I shall\nacquaint you with a few of these, believing that they may be\n_interesting_, at least to all admirers of that noble animal.\n\nThe dog of which I speak was a terrier. It showed its affection in the\nmost marked manner in several ways. Every morning, as soon as it got out\nof the kitchen, it came to its master's door, and if not admitted and\ncaressed about the usual hour, gave evident signs of impatience. It\nwould lie quiet till it thought the time had arrived, but never longer.\nAfterwards it went to the breakfast-room, and occupied its master's\nchair till he arrived. On one occasion a visitor was in the house, who,\ncoming first into the room, ordered the dog to come off the best chair.\nTo this it paid no attention, and when threatened with expulsion, at\nonce prepared for defence. But as soon as its master appeared it\nresigned its place voluntarily, and quietly stretched itself on the rug\nat his feet.\n\nAt another time it was left for three weeks during its master's absence\nfrom home. It saw him leave in a steamer, and every day until his return\nit repaired to the quay upon the arrival of the same boat, expecting him\nto come again in the one by which he had gone. It distinguished between\na number of boats, always selecting the right one and the right hour.\n\nOne evening it accompanied its master when he went to gather mussels for\nbait. As the tide was far in, few mussels remained uncovered; and after\ncollecting all within reach, more were required. A large bunch lay a few\nfeet from the water's edge, but beyond reach; yet as the dog was not one\nof those who take the water to fetch, its master had no expectation that\nit would prove useful on the present occasion. Seeing him looking at\nthe mussels, however, it first took a good look at those in the basket,\nand then, without being directed at all, went into the water. Selecting\nthe right bunch from amongst the stones and wreck with which it was\nsurrounded, it brought it to land, and laid it at its master's feet.\nThis, I think, is a proof of _reason_, rather than of instinct. The dog\nhad never been trained to go into the sea, and would not probably have\nbrought out the mussels had it not seen that they were wanted.\n\nIt showed wonderful instinct, however, just before the death of one of\nits pups, and before its own death. Its pup had not been thriving, and\nthe mother gave unmistakable proof that she foresaw its death. She dug a\ngrave for it and put it in. Nor, when it was removed, would she let it\nlie beside her, but immediately dug another grave, where she was less\nlikely to be disturbed. Upon the day of her own death, also, she used\nwhat strength she had to dig her grave, in which she lay, preferring to\ndie in it, than in what would seem to most a place of greater\ncomfort.[1]\n\nThese may not be singular incidents, but they are still remarkable and\nworthy of notice. They serve to show us the wonderful nature of man's\nfaithful friend, the dog, and how he has many traits of character fitted\nto make him the worthy receiver of kindness and respect.\n\n          T.\n\n[Footnote 1: It is difficult to accept T.'s explanation of the dog's\nobject in digging. Possibly its aim was to obtain warmth or shelter.]\n\n\nBULLY'S SHORT CUT.\n\n          [_Aug. 29, 1874._]\n\nI see that you welcome all notes of interest upon our fellow-beings, the\ndogs. Here is one that seems to prove they have a sense of time and of\ndistance as measured by time.\n\nI was walking with my bull-terrier, Bully (seven years old last\nChristmas), during a hot afternoon this month homewards along the Bund\n(Shanghai), and I suddenly missed him. I turned back for twenty or\nthirty yards, and, not finding him, I gave up the search, saying, \"He\nknows the way home well enough.\" Presently I saw him on my right,\ndripping with water, cantering on at a round pace, without looking about\nhim, homewards. I watched him, curious to see whether he would go\nstraight home. No. He kept on till he reached the distance of about 150\nyards, and looked ahead, _not_ smelling the ground. He then deliberately\nwalked back, catching sight of me in about twenty yards after his\nturning back, and wagged his tale recognisingly. He had evidently been\nto cool himself in the river (thirty yards to the right, it being low\ntide), and, thinking I would go on at the ordinary pace without him, he,\nafter his bath, struck directly at a long diagonal for the point I would\nhave reached if I had not turned back to look for him. He did not seem\nto have the slightest misgiving as to his sense of the distance I\n_ought_ to have walked during the time of his bath. His turning was done\nseemingly with a calm assurance of certainty. I may add that there were\ntwenty to thirty foot-passengers scattered over the portion of road in\nquestion at the time, whose footsteps might have effaced my scent on the\n_watered_ granite macadamised roadway, even supposing the dog to have\ntried his sense of smell, _which he did not_, as far as I could see, and\nI noticed him carefully.\n\n          W. G. S.\n\n\nCANINE INTELLIGENCE.\n\n          [_July 24, 1886._]\n\nYou often give us pleasant anecdotes of our four-footed friends. You may\nthink the following worthy of record. I have a little dog, a not\nparticularly well-bred fox-terrier. He is much attached to me, and shows\nby his obedience, and sometimes _in_ his disobedience, that he\nunderstands a good deal. Yesterday I was away all day, and he, I am\ntold, was very uneasy, and searched everywhere for me. Every day at 5\np.m. I go to church. Toby seems to know this is not an ordinary walk,\nand never offers to come with me. But yesterday, when the bell began, he\nstarted off and took up his position by the vestry door. I believe he\nreasoned with himself, \"There goes the bell; now I shall catch the\nVicar.\"\n\nWILLIAM QUENNELL.\n\n\nTHE DOG AND THE FERRY.\n\n          [_April 4, 1885._]\n\nReading from time to time many pleasant anecdotes in the columns of the\n_Spectator_--which, by the way, I receive as regularly, and read as\neagerly, as when resident in England many years ago--relative to the\nsagacity of dogs, I send the following, thinking it possible you may\ndeem it worthy of insertion.\n\nSome three years ago I was \"having a spell\" in Brisbane, after a\nlengthened sojourn on a sheep station in the interior of Queensland.\nDuring my stay in the city I had the good fortune to gain the friendship\nof a gentleman who owned a magnificent collie. My friend, his dog Sweep,\nand myself, were frequently together, engaged either in yachting among\nthe islands of Moreton Bay, or 'possum hunting under the towering\n_eucalypti_ which fringe the banks of the river Brisbane. Naturally\n\"Sweep\" (who was a most lovable animal) and myself soon began to\nentertain a warm friendship for one another, which friendship gave rise\nto the anecdote I am about to relate. Returning to my hotel about\nmidnight from the house of a friend, I was not a little startled at\nfinding my hand suddenly seized from behind by a dog, which, however, I\nat once recognised as my handsome acquaintance, Sweep. I patted him, at\nthe same time endeavouring to withdraw the hand which he held firmly,\nbut gently, between his teeth. It was of no use, as, in spite of all my\nendearments, he insisted on retaining his hold, wriggling along by my\nside, and vigorously wagging his tail, as though he would say, \"Don't be\nafraid; it's all right.\" We soon reached a point in the main street down\nwhich we were walking, where a side avenue branched off towards the\nriver. My way lay right ahead. Sweep, however, insisted on my taking the\nroad which lay at a right-angle to my course. I felt some annoyance at\nhis persistence, as I was both tired and sleepy; but, having no choice\nin the matter, I followed his lead. Having walked some two or three\nhundred yards down _his_ street, he released his hold, dancing round\nme, then running on for a few yards and looking back to see if I were\nfollowing. Becoming interested, I determined to see what he was after,\nso, without further resistance, I followed submissively. At last, having\nreached the river, which at this place was about four hundred yards\nwide, he, with many joyous barks, ran down the ferry steps, and jumped\ninto the empty boat of the ferryman. At last I was able to guess at his\nmotive for forcing me to follow him. His master, who lived across the\nriver, had accidentally lost sight of his dog returning from his office\nin the city; and Sweep appeared to understand perfectly that unless the\nboatman received his fare he, Sweep, would not be carried over, my\nfriend frequently sending the dog over by himself when wishing to attend\nconcerts, &c., invariably paying the fare as of an ordinary passenger.\nThe ferryman, who at once recognised my canine friend, laughed heartily\nwhen I told him how I had been served, took my penny, and set off at\nonce for \"Kangaroo Point,\" Sweep gaily barking \"good-night\" until he\nreached the opposite bank. I heard subsequently that he used to swim the\nriver when left behind; but having had two narrow escapes from sharks,\nhis nerves had become somewhat shaken so far as water was concerned.\n\n          J. WM. CREIGHTON.\n\n\nTHE REASON OF DOGS.\n\n          [_Nov. 13, 1875._]\n\nHaving often read, with great pleasure, the anecdotes about dogs which\nfrom time to time appear in the _Spectator_, I venture to send you one\nwhich has come under my own observation, and which, it seems to me,\nshows an effort of reasoning implying two distinct ideas--one the\nconsequence of the other--more interesting than many of those clever\nperformances of educated dogs which may or may not be merely mechanical\nactions.\n\nThe dog who performed the following trick was then a great, half-grown,\nawkward puppy, whose education, up to that time, had been much\nneglected. It has been better attended to since, and now, although\nsportsmen probably consider such an animal sadly thrown away upon a\nlady, he is a very pleasant friend and companion. My two dogs, Guy and\nDenis, form as capital a pair, for contrast's sake, as one need wish to\nsee. They are both handsome dogs of their kind--Guy, a fine black\nretriever, with no white hair upon him, and, I believe, in the eyes of\nsportsmen, as well as those of his mistress, a very desirable\npossession, good-tempered, clever, and affectionate; Denis, as naughty\nand spoilt a little fellow as ever existed, and a great pet, also black,\nexcept for his yellow paws and chest, but covered with long, loose\nlocks, instead of Guy's small, crisp curls.\n\nDenis is exceedingly comic, and a constant source of amusement. He is\nvery faithful to his mistress, whose bedside during illness he has\nrefused to leave, even for food; but it must be confessed that he is not\namiably disposed towards most people, and is a perfect tyrant over the\nother animals. Some account of the two dogs' character is necessary, to\nexplain the little scene which took place between them one evening about\na year ago. Guy, it must be premised, is at least twelve months younger\nthan Denis, consequently, when the former first arrived--a miserable and\nvery ugly little puppy, a few weeks old, more like a small black jug\nthan any known animal of the canine species, having had the mange, and\nlost all his hair--Denis undertook his education, and ruled him so\nseverely that his influence lasted a long while; indeed, even after Guy\nhad grown so big that Denis almost needed to stand upon his hind legs in\norder to snap at him, the great dog would crouch meekly at a growling\nremonstrance from the little master, and never dared to invade his\nrights--to approach his plate of food, or to drink before him. Now a\ndays Guy has discovered his own power, and although too good-natured an\nanimal ever to ill-treat the little dog, no longer allows any liberties,\nbut at the same time, when the scene which I am about to describe took\nplace, he was still under the impression that Denis's wrath was a\nterrible and dangerous matter.\n\nAnd now for my story, which, it seems to me, shows as much real\nreasoning power in an untrained animal as any anecdote that I ever read.\nOne evening I took my two dogs to the kitchen, to give them the rare\ntreat of a bone apiece. (Dogs were certainly never intended to make\nNatal their home, for, in order to keep them alive at all, they should\nnever be given anything that they like, especially meat, and even then\nthe most careful management often fails in preserving them from disease\nand death.) One of my sisters was with me, and together we watched the\ndogs over their supper. Guy, with his great mouth, and ravenous, growing\nappetite, made short work with his, every vestige of which had vanished;\nwhile little Denis was still contentedly sucking away at his small\nshare, not very hungry, and taking his pleasures sedately, like a\ngentleman, as he is. And then Guy began to watch the other with an\nenvious eye, evidently casting about in his mind how he might gain\npossession of that bone. He was even then, though not full grown, so big\nand strong that he could have taken it by force with the greatest ease;\nbut such an idea did not cross his mind; he decided to employ stratagem\nto win the prize. I must mention here, that amongst other naughty\npractices of my dogs, is that of rushing out of the house and barking\nviolently upon the slightest sound without. This is Denis's fault,\nwhich Guy, in spite of all my lessons, has contracted from him. With the\nevident intention of sending Denis out, Guy suddenly started up, and\nbegan to bark _towards_ the door in an excited manner, but not running\nout himself, as he certainly would have done, had he really heard\nanything. Down went Denis's bone, and out rushed he, barking at the top\nof his voice. Did Guy follow him? Oh, dear no! he had no such\nintentions; he sneaked up to Denis's bone immediately, picked it up, and\nran to the other end of the room. But when he had got it, he did not\nknow what to do with it; there was no hiding-place for him there, and he\ndare neither await Denis's return openly, nor risk meeting him at the\ndoor. My sister and I were, by this time, both sitting on a bench\nagainst the wall, watching the scene between the dogs, and Guy, after\nrunning once round the room, with the bone in his mouth, came and crept\nin beneath my seat, where he was hidden by my dress, and where he lay,\nnot eating the bone, and in perfect silence. Presently Master Denis\ntrotted back, quite unconscious, and shaking the curls out of his eyes,\nas much as to say, \"My dear fellow! what a fuss you've made; there's\nnothing there.\" He looked about for his bone for a few minutes, but soon\ngave up the search, and began to amuse himself with other things. After\na while, I, forgetting the culprit beneath my seat, rose, and crossed\nthe room, leaving him exposed. Guy was in a great fright; he jumped up,\nand running to my sister, who was still seated, he stood up with his\nforepaws upon her lap, and the bone still untouched in his mouth, as\nthough begging her protection. Denis, however, did not observe him, and\nafter a few minutes, Guy's courage returned, and finally he ventured to\nlie down, with the bone between his paws, and began to gnaw it, keeping\none eye fixed on Denis the while. This, however, was going a step too\nfar. Denis was attracted by the sound, and recognised his own bone the\nmoment that he looked round. He marched up to Guy (who immediately\nstopped eating) and stood before him. Denis growled, and Guy slowly\nremoved one great paw from his prize. Denis advanced a step, with\nanother growl; Guy removed the other paw, and slunk back a little,\nwhereupon Master Denis calmly walked up, took possession of his bone,\nand went off with it.\n\nI am bound, however, to remark that after another half-hour's contented\namusement over it, he resigned the remainder, which was too hard for his\nsmall mouth, to Guy, who finished the last morsel with great\nsatisfaction. Now that he is full grown, Guy still gives up to Denis in\nmany little ways, but it is evidently through generosity only, for he\nhas proved himself perfectly capable of taking his own part. But he is\nvery gentle with his little playmate, except at night, when he lies\nacross my door-way--entirely of his own accord--and will allow no one\nand nothing to enter without my command.\n\n          FRANCES E. COLENSO.\n\n\nA CANINE SIGHT-SEER.\n\n          [_May 20, 1876._]\n\nAs a subscriber to your journal, I have observed from time to time\ndiscussion on the \"reasoning power of dogs.\" I will tell you what I\nobserved to-day. In consequence of the Levee there was a great crowd in\nPall Mall. I was invited by a friend to accompany him in his carriage\nfrom St. James's Palace down Pall Mall, when lo and behold, his dog,\nwhich usually runs with the carriage, insisting on getting in also.\nNothing could induce him to get out, and whilst passing along Pall Mall\nhe amused himself looking out of window at the police, soldiers, and\ncrowd collected. When through, he was glad enough to get out again, and\nreadily followed through the most frequented streets. Now, I have no\ndoubt as to that dog's \"reasoning power,\" respecting his ability to\nfollow his carriage safely through the dense crowd collected around St.\nJames's Palace and Marlborough House.\n\n          H.\n\n\nTHINKING OUT A PLAN.\n\n          [_March 3, 1888._]\n\nAre animals able to think over and carry out a plan? The following\nanecdotes will answer the question. When in India, I had a small rough\nterrier who, when given a bone, was sent to eat it on the gravel drive\nunder an open porch in front of the bungalow. On several occasions two\ncrows had made an attempt to snatch the dainty morsel, but their plans\nwere easily defeated by Topsy's growls and snapping teeth. Away flew the\ncrows to the branch of a tree near by. After a few moments of evident\ndiscussion, they proceeded to carry out the plan of attack. One crow\nflew down to the ground and gave a peck at the end of the dog's tail.\nTopsy at once turned to resent this attack in the rear, whilst the other\ncrow flew down and bore the bone away in triumph.\n\nThe same dog had a favourite resting-place in an easy-chair, and was\nvery often deprived of it by a dog which came as visitor to the house.\nTopsy did not approve of this, and her attempts to regain her seat were\nmet with growls and bites. This justified an act of eviction, and the\nbusy little brain decided on a plan. The next day, as usual, the\nintruder established himself in the chair, which was close to the open\ndoor. Topsy looked on for a moment, and then flew savagely out of doors,\nbarking at a supposed enemy. Out ran the other dog to see what was up,\nand back came Topsy to take possession of her coveted seat. The other\ndog came slowly back, and curled himself up in a far-off corner. The\nabove I was an eye-witness to, and therefore can vouch for the truth of\nwhat I relate.\n\n          K. P.\n\n\nA PARCEL-CARRYING DOG.\n\n          [_Feb. 9, 1895._]\n\nIn illustration of the anecdotal letters about dogs and their habits, in\nthe _Spectator_ of February 2nd, and Mr. Lang's paper in this month's\n_Nineteenth Century_, I send you the following story of a dog which I\nhad in 1851 and for three years afterwards. He was a handsome\nNewfoundland dog, and one of the most intelligent animals with which it\nwas ever my good luck to meet. I was living in a village about three\nmiles from Dover, where I did all my shopping and marketing, being\ngenerally my own \"carrier.\" Sometimes Nep would carry home a small\nparcel for me, and always most carefully. On one occasion Nep was with\nme when I chose a spade, and asked the ironmonger to send it by the\nvillage carrier. The spade was put by, labelled and duly addressed. I\nwent on to have a bathe, my dog going with me, but on finishing my\ntoilet in the machine, and calling and whistling for Nep, he was nowhere\nto be seen. He was not to be found at the stable where I had left my\nhorse, but on calling at the ironmonger's shop I found he had been there\nand had carried off the spade which I had bought, balancing it carefully\nin his mouth. When I reached home, there Nep was, lying near his kennel\nin the stable-yard looking very fagged, but wearing a countenance of the\nfullest self-satisfaction, and evidently wishing me to think he had\nfulfilled his \"dog-duty.\" My friend Mr. Wood, who was a thorough lover\nand admirer of dogs, was delighted to hear of his intelligent\nperformance.\n\n          \"CANOPHILIST.\"\n\nP.S.--I may add Nep always guarded me when bathing, and always went into\nthe water with me, too, often uttering a peculiar kind of \"howl.\"\n\n\n\n\n_THE REASONING POWERS OF DOGS._\n\n\n\n\nPURCHASING DOGS.\n\n          [_May 26, 1877._]\n\nSome time ago I sent you my recollections of a dog who knew a halfpenny\nfrom a penny, and who could count up as far as two (see page 56). I have\nbeen able to obtain authentic information of a dog whose mental powers\nwere still more advanced, and who, in his day, besides being celebrated\nfor his abilities, was of substantial benefit to a charitable\ninstitution in his town. The dog I refer to was a little white\nfox-terrier, Prin by name, who lived at the Lion Hotel, at\nKidderminster, for three or four years; but now, alas! he is dead, and\nnothing remains of him but his head in a glass case.\n\nI had heard of this dog some months ago, but on Saturday last, having to\nmake a visit to Kidderminster, I went to see him. The facts I give about\nhim are based on the statements of Mr. Lloyd, his master, and they are\nfully substantiated by the evidence of many others. I have before me a\nstatement of the proceeds of \"Dog Prin's box, Lion Hotel; subscriptions\nto the Infirmary.\" The contributions began in September, 1874, and ended\non April 25th, 1876, and during that period the sum of L13 14s. 6d. was\ncontributed through Prin's instrumentality.\n\nHe began by displaying a fancy for playing with coins, not unusual\namongst terriers, and he advanced to a discovery that he could exchange\nthe coins for biscuits. He learnt that for a halfpenny he could get two\nbiscuits, and for a penny, three; and, having become able to distinguish\nbetween the two coins, it was found impossible to cheat him. If he had\ncontributed a penny, he would not leave the bar till he had had his\nthird biscuit; and if there was nobody to attend to his wants, he kept\nthe coin in his mouth till he could be served. Indeed, it was this\npersistence which ultimately caused poor Prin's death, for there is\nevery reason to fear that he fell a victim to copper-poisoning.\n\nBy a little training he was taught to place the coins, after he had got\nthe biscuits, upon the top of a small box fixed on the wall, and they\nwere dropped for him through a slot. He never objected to part with them\nin this way, and having received the _quid pro quo_, he gave complete\nevidence of his appreciation of the honourable understanding which is so\nabsolutely necessary for all commercial transactions.\n\nAn authenticated case like this is of extreme value, for just as the\nelementary stages of any science or discovery are the most difficult and\nthe slowest in accomplishment, so are the primary stages of all mental\nprocesses. To find the preliminary steps of the evolution of mathematics\nand commerce in a dog is therefore a very important observation, and\neverything bearing on these early phases of intellect should be\ncarefully recorded.\n\n          LAWSON TAIT.\n\n\n          [_Feb. 10, 1877._]\n\nThe _Spectator_ is always so kind to animals that I venture to send you\nthe following story of a dog's sagacity, which may be depended upon as\nabsolutely true:--\n\nDuring the meeting of the British Association at Glasgow, a friend of\nmine had occasion to go one day from that place to Greenock on business.\nHearing, on his arrival, that the person he wished to see was out, but\nexpected shortly to return home, he determined to take a stroll about\nthe town, to which he was a stranger. In the course of his walk he\nturned into a baker's shop and bought a bun. As he stood at the door of\nthe shop eating his bun, a large dog came up to him and begged for a\nshare, which he got, and seemed to enjoy, coming back for piece after\npiece. \"Does the dog belong to you?\" my friend asked of the shop-woman.\n\"No,\" she answered, \"but he spends most of his time here, and begs\nhalfpennies from the people who pass.\" \"Halfpennies! What good can they\nbe to him?\" \"Oh, he knows very well what to do with them; he comes into\nthe shop and buys cakes.\"\n\nThis seemed rather a remarkable instance of cleverness even for the\ncleverest of animals, so, by way of testing its reality, my friend went\nout of the shop into the street, where he was immediately accosted by\nthe dog, who begged for _something_ with all the eloquence of which a\ndog is capable. He offered him a halfpenny, and was rather surprised to\nsee him accept it readily, and walk, with the air of a regular customer,\ninto the shop, where he put his forepaws on the counter, and held out\nthe halfpenny towards the attendant. The young woman produced a bun, but\nthat did not suit the dog, and he held his money fast. \"Ah,\" she said,\n\"I know what he wants,\" and took down from a shelf a plate of\nshortbread. This was right; the dog paid his halfpenny, took his\nshortbread, and ate it with decorous satisfaction. When he had quite\nfinished he left the shop, and my friend, much amused, followed him, and\nwhen he again begged found another halfpenny for him, and saw the whole\nprocess gone through a second time.\n\nThis dog clearly had learned by some means the use of money, and not\nmerely that it would buy something to eat, but that it would buy\nseveral things, among which he could exercise a right of choice. What is\nperhaps most remarkable is that his proceedings were entirely\nindependent, and for his own benefit, not that of any teacher or master.\n\n          A. L. W.\n\n\n          [_Feb. 17, 1877._]\n\nWhen a student at Edinburgh, I enjoyed the friendship of a brown\nretriever, who belonged to a fishmonger in Lothion Street, and who was\ncertainly the cleverest dog I have ever met with. He was a cleverer dog\nthan the one described by \"A. L. W.\" because he knew the relative value\nof certain coins. In the morning he was generally to be seen seated on\nthe step of the fishmonger's shop-door, waiting for some of his many\nfriends to give him a copper. When he had got one, he trotted away to a\nbaker's shop a few doors off, and dropped the coin on the counter. If I\nremember rightly (it is twelve or fifteen years ago), his weakness was\n\"soda scones.\" If he dropped a halfpenny on the counter he was\ncontented with one scone, but if he had given a penny he expected two,\nand would wait for the second, after he had eaten the first, until he\ngot it. That he knew exactly when he was entitled to one scone only, and\nwhen he ought to get two, is certain, for I tried him often.\n\n          LAWSON TAIT.\n\n\n          [_Feb. 17, 1877._]\n\nIn the _Spectator_ of the 10th inst. a correspondent describes the\npurchase of cakes by a clever dog at Greenock. I should like to be\nallowed to help preserve the memory of a most worthy dog-friend of my\nyouth, well remembered by many now living who knew Greenwich Hospital\nsome thirty or five-and-thirty years ago.\n\nAt that time there lived there a dog-pensioner called Hardy, a large\nbrown Irish retriever. He was so named by Sir Thomas Hardy, when\nGovernor (Nelson's Hardy), who at the same time constituted him a\npensioner, at the rate of one penny per diem, for that he had one day\nsaved a life from drowning just opposite the hospital. Till that time\nhe was a poor stranger and vagrant dog--friendless. But thenceforward he\nlived in the hospital, and _spent his pension himself_ at the butcher's\nshop, as he did also many another coin given to him by numerous friends.\nMany is the halfpenny which, as a child, I gave Hardy, that I might see\nhim buy his own meat--which he did with judgment, and a due regard to\nvalue. When a _penny_ was given to him, he would, on arriving at the\nshop, place it on the counter and rest his nose or paw upon it until he\nreceived _two halfpennyworths_, nor would any persuasion induce him to\ngive up the coin for the usual smaller allowance. I was a young child at\nthe time, but I had a great veneration for Hardy, and remember him well,\nbut lest my juvenile memory might have been in fault, I have, before\nwriting this letter, compared my recollections with those of my elders,\nwho, as grown people, knew Hardy for many years, and confirm all the\nabove facts. There, indeed, was the right dog in the right place. Peace\nto his shade!\n\n          J. D. C.\n\n\n          [_Feb. 7, 1885._]\n\nHave you room for one more dog story, which resembles one lately\nreported in a French journal? A few years since I was sitting inside the\ndoor of a shop to escape from the rain while waiting for a trap to take\nme to the railway station in the old Etruscan city of Ferentino.\nPresently an ill-bred dog of the pointer kind came and sat down in front\nof me, looking up in my face, and wagging his tail to attract my\nattention. \"What does that dog want?\" I asked of a bystander. \"Signore,\"\nhe answered, \"he wants you to give him a soldo to go and buy you a cigar\nwith.\" I gave the dog the coin, and he presently returned, bringing a\ncigar, which he held crossways in his mouth until I took it from him.\nSent again and again, he brought me three or four more cigars from the\ntobacco-shop. At length the dog's demeanour changed, and he gave vent to\nhis impatience by two or three low whines. \"What does he want now?\" I\nasked. \"He wants you to give him two soldi to go to the baker's and buy\nbread for himself.\" I gave him a two-soldo piece, and in a few minutes\nthe dog returned with a small loaf of bread, which he laid at my feet,\nat the same time gazing wistfully in my face. \"He won't take it until\nyou give him leave,\" said another bystander. I gave the requisite\npermission, and the dear animal seized the loaf and disappeared with it\nin his mouth, and did not again make his appearance before I left the\ncity. \"He always does like this,\" said the standers-by, \"whenever he\nsees a stranger in Ferentino.\"\n\n          GREVILLE I. CHESTER.\n\n\nCAUTIOUS DOGS.\n\n\nINTELLIGENT SUSPICION IN A DOG.\n\n          [_July 7, 1888._]\n\nThe following instance of dog instinct (or reasoning?) will, I think,\ninterest some of your readers. About a fortnight ago, while crossing the\nAlbula Pass, our driver stopped for a few moments at the little\nrestaurant on the highest point of it. A rough kind of herdsman's dog,\nof no particular breed, I suppose, came out and sat down by the carriage\nand looked up at us. We happened to have a few Marie biscuits in the\ncarriage, so I threw half of one out to him. I suppose he had no\nexperience in Huntley and Palmer's make, for he looked at and smelled it\ncarefully, and then declined to eat it, but again looked up at me. I\nthen took the remaining half, bit off and ate a little bit of it, and\nthen threw over the rest to him. This time he ate it at once, then\nturned and ate the first piece, which he had before refused, and at once\ncame and asked for more, which I had great pleasure in giving him. I\nmay add that I have several times tried a similar experiment with more\npampered dogs at home, but have never succeeded with it. Whether this\narises from the latter knowing, in most cases, from experience what they\nlike and what they do not like, or, as I am rather inclined to think,\nfrom the superior intelligence of this Alpine dog, who really reasoned\nthat what I could eat he could, I leave your readers to decide for\nthemselves.\n\n          G. W. C.\n\n\nAN ALPINE DOG.\n\n          [_July 21, 1888._]\n\nI do not think that it was superior intelligence in the Alpine dog over\nother intelligent dogs which induced him to wait to eat the biscuit till\nhe had seen the giver eat some of it. We have a very sagacious little\nHighland terrier, and he in the same manner often refuses a new kind of\nbiscuit or cake until he has seen me bite off a small piece and eat it,\nand then he will do the same. I have also found our boarhound\ndistrusting food occasionally, and declining to take it from his bowl\nuntil I have given him some with my hand. Then he seems to feel that it\nis all right, and comes down from his bench and eats it. This perhaps is\nnot exactly the same, but it is still a phase of a dog's distrust of\nunaccustomed food, and his reasoning power respecting it. This wonderful\nreasoning power any one accustomed to dogs soon discovers.\n\n          J. B. G.\n\n\nDOGS AND LANGUAGE.\n\n\nDO DOGS UNDERSTAND OUR LANGUAGE?\n\n          [_Aug. 4, 1883._]\n\nI think the question has been mooted in your columns as to whether dogs\nsometimes understand our language. A circumstance that has just occurred\nleads me to think that it does happen, where they are highly organised\nand living much with their owners. While our family party were sitting\nover dessert, a cork jumped from an apollinaris-water bottle on the\nsideboard. I took no notice at first, but after the conversation was\nended, I got up and looked about for a few minutes, soon giving up the\nsearch. My brother asked what I was looking for, and I answered. I had\nno sooner sat down than our little dog crept from behind a piece of\nfurniture, where she was reposing on the end of a rug, and went straight\nup to the cork, looking up at me and pointing to it with her nose. It\nwas near me, but the shadow thrown by the table prevented my seeing it.\nShe is a very nervous little fox-terrier, a most \"comfort-loving\nanimal,\" and spends her life with one or the other of us on my sofa,\nwhen her master is out, but hearing his voice at a great distance, and\nalways attending to it.\n\n          ANYTHING BUT A DOG-FANCIER.\n\n\nHOW OUR MEANING IS CONVEYED TO ANIMALS.\n\n          [_Aug. 11, 1883._]\n\nThe following anecdote may interest some of your readers:--Some years\nago, when starting for a foreign tour, I entrusted my little Scotch\nterrier, Pixie, to the care of my brother, who lived about three miles\ndistant from my house. I was away for six weeks, during the whole of\nwhich time Pixie remained contentedly at his new abode. The day,\nhowever, before I returned, my brother mentioned in the dog's hearing\nthat I was expected back the next day. Thereupon, the dog started off,\nand was found by me at my bedroom door the next morning, he having been\nseen waiting outside the house early in the morning when the servants\ngot up, and been admitted by them. Pixie is still alive and flourishing,\nand readily lends himself to experiments, which, however, yield no very\ndefinite result. He certainly seems to understand as much of our meaning\nas it concerns his own comfort to understand, but how he does it I\ncannot quite determine. I should be sorry to affirm, clever as he is,\nthat he understands French and German, yet it is certainly a fact that\nhe will fall back just as readily if I say \"Zurueck!\" as if I say \"To\nheel!\" and advance to the sound \"En avant!\" as well as to \"Hold up!\" As\nin both cases I am careful to avoid any elucidatory gesture or special\ntone of voice, I am inclined to think that there must be here a species\nof direct thought transference. At the same time, I am bound to add that\nwithout the spoken word I am unable to convey the slightest meaning to\nhim. This, however, may be due to what I believe to be a fact, that it\nis almost impossible without word or gesture to formulate the will with\nany distinctness. If this theory be correct, the verbal sounds used\nwould convey the speaker's meaning, not in virtue of the precise sounds\nthemselves, but of the intention put into them by the speaker. I should\nbe glad to know if the experience of others tends to confirm this\ntheory, which I do not remember to have seen suggested before.\n\n          A. EUBULE-EVANS.\n\n\n          [_Aug. 18, 1883._]\n\nI beg to contribute another anecdote on the subject of how our meaning\nis conveyed to animals. When I was in Norway with my husband, a dog\nbelonging to the people of the house went with us in all our walks. One\nday a strange dog joined us, and seemed to wish to get up a fight with\nour dog, Fechter, who for protection kept almost under our feet; my\nhusband said several times, \"Go on, Fechter,\" in English, which he\nimmediately did, but soon came back again. At last we succeeded in\ndriving the strange dog away, but he soon returned. Then my husband said\nwithout any alteration of tone or gesture that I was aware of, \"Drive\nthat dog away, Fechter.\" He immediately rushed at him, and we saw no\nmore of our troubler. I have long thought that dogs do understand, not\n\"the precise sounds themselves, but the intention put into them by the\nspeaker.\"\n\n          AN OBSERVER OF ANIMALS.\n\n\nANIMAL INTELLIGENCE.\n\n          [_Aug. 18, 1883._]\n\nPerhaps I should have said the \"Intelligence of Animals,\" but my\nmeaning, in relation to the interesting correspondence in your columns,\nis no doubt clear. The whole question seems to me to lie in the\nproverbial nutshell, and to be solvable by the proverbial common sense.\nDogs' hearing is undoubtedly very keen and accurate, and even subtle;\nand dogs have also the power of putting this and that together in a\nmarvellously shrewd and almost rational fashion. They cannot understand\nsentences, but they get hold of words, _i.e._, sounds, and keep them\npigeon-holed in their memory. I might as well argue moral principle\nfrom the fact that my dog Karl, like scores of other dogs, will hold a\npiece of biscuit on his nose so long as I say \"trust,\" and will when I\nsay \"paid for\" gaily toss his head and catch the biscuit in his honest\nmouth, as argue that because he finds eleven tennis-balls among the\nshrubs in five minutes, when I say, \"We can't find them at all, Karl; do\ngo and find them, good dog, will you? Find the balls, old\nfellow\"--therefore he understands my sentence. He simply grasps the\nwords \"find\" and \"balls,\" sees the game at a standstill, and reasons out\nour needs and his responsibilities, quickened by the expectation of\npattings on the head, pettings, and pieces of biscuit. It is remarkable\nthat if I try to delude him by uttering \"base coin\" in the shape of\nwords just like the real words, as, for example, if I say \"Jacob\"\ninstead of \"paid for,\" he makes no mistake, but refuses the morsel,\nhowever delicate, till it _is_ \"paid for.\"\n\nProminent nouns, participles, verbs, &c., make up the _lingua franca_\nthat so beautifully links together men and dogs, and now and then men\nand horses, their intelligence being quickened by their dumbness, as is\nthat of deaf and dumb men and women, whose other faculties become so\nkeenly intensified, and who put this and that together so much more\nquickly than do we who have all our faculties. There are of course\n\"Admiral Crichtons\" among dogs, as there are among men, but the\ndifference between dog and dog will generally, I think, be traceable\nmore to human training than to born capacity. The yearning look which\nKarl gives when (told to \"speak\") he gives forth his voice in response,\nis sometimes piteously like \"Oh, that I could really tell all I feel!\"\nHe is like, and all dogs of average intelligence are like, the Frenchman\nI met yesterday on the beach at Hastings, who wanted to know whether he\ncould reach Ramsgate on foot before nightfall, and how far it was, and\nwho, as I only know a few French words, and am utterly unable to speak\nor understand sentences, was obliged to make me understand his wants by\na few nouns such as everybody knows, and by causing me to put this and\nthat together. There is of course the vital defect in the parallel that\nI could learn to understand French, and the dog could never learn to\nunderstand sentences; but as so many parallels have vital defects of\nsome kind, even down to that historic self-drawn parallel between\nAlexander and the robber, we may well say, whether we be men or dogs,\n\"Let me reflect.\" Dogs do undoubtedly reflect, and reason, and remember;\nand they never forget their \"grammar,\" as school-boys do. Instinct, like\nchance, is only a name expressing fitly enough our own ignorance. Did\nnot Luther and Wesley believe in the resurrection of animals?\n\n          S. B. JAMES.\n\n\n          [_Aug. 25, 1883._]\n\nA little illustration of canine intelligence shown by my collie, Dido,\nmay be added to those which have lately appeared in the _Spectator_. The\ndog was lying on the floor in a room in which I was preparing to go out.\nAn old servant was present, and when I had given her directions about\nan errand on which she was going, I said, \"You will take Dido with you?\"\nShe assented, and the dog directly got up to follow her downstairs. I\nthen remembered that I should want a cab, so I asked the servant to send\none, and not to leave the house till I rang the bell. On her leaving the\nroom, Dido resumed her quiet attitude on the floor, with her nose to the\ncarpet. In rather less than ten minutes I rang the bell, and the dog at\nonce sprang up and ran downstairs to join her companion. I had not\nspoken a word after asking the servant to wait for the bell. Was this\nword-reading, or voice-reading, or thought-reading.\n\n          S. E. DE MORGAN.\n\n\nANIMALS AND LANGUAGE.\n\n          [_Sept. 1, 1883._]\n\nI can match Mrs. De Morgan's pretty story of her Dido. A wise old dog\nwith whom I have the privilege to associate was, two or three days ago,\nlying asleep in her basket by the fire. I entered the room with my hat\non, and invited her to join me in a walk; but, after looking up at me\nfor a moment, as canine politeness required, she dropped back among her\ncushions, obviously replying, \"Thank you very much, but I prefer\nrepose.\" Thereupon I observed, in a clear voice, \"I am _not_ going on\nthe road [a promenade disliked by the dogs, because the walls on either\nside restrict the spirit of scientific research]; I am going up the\nmountain.\" Instantly my little friend jumped up, shook her ears, and,\nwith a cheerful bark, announced herself as ready to join the party.\n\nBeyond doubt or question, Colleen had either understood the word \"road,\"\nor the word \"mountain,\" or both, and determined her proceedings\naccordingly. Nothing in my action showed, or could show, the meaning of\nmy words.\n\nIf any of your readers who have resided for some weeks or months in a\ncountry where a language is spoken entirely foreign to their own--say,\nArabic, or Basque, or Welsh--will recall of how many words they\ninsensibly learn the meaning without asking it, and merely by hearing\nthem always used in certain relations, they will have, I think, a fair\nmeasure of the extent and nature of a dog's knowledge of the language of\nhis masters. My dog has lived fewer years in the world than I have\npassed in Wales, but he knows just about as much English as I know\nWelsh, and has acquired it just in the same way.\n\n          F. P. C.\n\n\nTEACHING DOGS A METHOD OF COMMUNICATION.\n\n          [_Dec. 29, 1883._]\n\nMr. Darwin's \"Notes on Instinct,\" recently published by my friend, Mr.\nRomanes, have again called attention to the interesting subject of\ninstinct in animals.\n\nMiss Martineau once remarked that, considering how long we have lived in\nclose association with animals, it is astonishing how little we know\nabout them, and especially about their mental condition. This applies\nwith especial force to our domestic animals, and, above all, of course,\nto dogs. I believe that it arises very much from the fact that hitherto\nwe have tried to teach animals, rather than to learn from them--to\nconvey our ideas to them, rather than to devise any language, or code of\nsignals, by means of which they might communicate theirs to us. No doubt\nthe former process is interesting and instructive, but it does not carry\nus very far.\n\nUnder these circumstances it has occurred to me whether some such system\nas that followed with deaf mutes, and especially by Dr. Howe with Laura\nBridgman, might not prove very instructive if adapted to the case of\ndogs. Accordingly I prepared some pieces of stout cardboard, and printed\non each in legible letters a word, such as \"food,\" \"bone,\" \"out,\" &c. I\nthen began training a black poodle, Van by name, kindly given me by my\nfriend, Mr. Nickalls.\n\nI commenced by giving the dog food in a saucer, over which I laid the\ncard on which was the word \"food,\" placing also by the side an empty\nsaucer, covered by a plain card. Van soon learnt to distinguish between\nthe two, and the next stage was to teach him to bring me the card; this\nhe now does, and hands it to me quite prettily, and I then give him a\nbone, or a little food, or take him out, according to the card brought.\nHe still brings sometimes a plain card, in which case I point out his\nerror, and he then takes it back and changes it. This, however, does not\noften happen. Yesterday morning, for instance, he brought me the card\nwith \"food\" on it nine times in succession, selecting it from among\nother plain cards, though I changed the relative position every time. No\none who sees him can doubt that he understands the act of bringing the\ncard with the word \"food\" on it, as a request for something to eat, and\nthat he distinguishes between it and a plain card. I also believe that\nhe distinguishes, for instance, between the card with the word \"food\" on\nit and the card with \"out\" on it.\n\nThis, then, seems to open up a method which may be carried much further,\nfor it is obvious that the cards may be multiplied, and the dog thus\nenabled to communicate freely with us. I have as yet, I know, made only\na very small beginning, and hope to carry the experiment much further,\nbut my object in troubling you with this letter is twofold. In the first\nplace, I trust that some of your readers may be able and willing to\nsuggest extensions or improvements of the idea. Secondly, my spare time\nis small, and liable to many interruptions; and animals also, we know,\ndiffer greatly from one another. Now, many of your readers have\nfavourite dogs, and I would express a hope that some of them may be\ndisposed to study them in the manner indicated. The observations, even\nthough negative, would be interesting; but I confess I hope that some\npositive results might follow, which would enable us to obtain a more\ncorrect insight into the minds of animals than we have yet acquired.\n\n          JOHN LUBBOCK.\n\n\nCOMMUNICATION WITH ANIMALS.\n\n          [_April 12, 1884._]\n\nYou did me the honour, some weeks ago, to insert a letter of mine,\ncontaining suggestions as to a method of studying the psychology of\nanimals and a short account of a beginning I had myself made in that\ndirection.\n\nThis letter has elicited various replies and suggestions which you will\nperhaps allow me to answer, and I may also take the opportunity of\nstating the progress which my dog Van has made, although, owing greatly,\nno doubt, to my frequent absences from home and the little time I can\ndevote to him, this has not been so rapid as I doubt not would otherwise\nhave been the case. Perhaps I may just repeat that the essence of my\nidea was to have various words, such as \"food,\" \"bone,\" \"water,\" \"out,\"\n&c., printed on pieces of card-board, and, after some preliminary\ntraining, to give the dog anything for which he asked by bringing a\ncard. I use pieces of cardboard about ten inches long and three inches\nhigh, placing a number of them on the floor side by side, so that the\ndog has several cards to select from, each bearing a different word.\n\nOne correspondent has suggested that it would be better to use variously\ncoloured cards. This might, no doubt, render the first steps rather\nmore easy, but, on the other hand, any temporary advantage gained would\nbe at the expense of subsequent difficulty, since the pupil would very\nlikely begin by associating the object with the colour, rather than with\nthe letters. He would, therefore, as is too often the case with our own\nchildren, have the unnecessary labour of unlearning some of his first\nlessons. At the same time, the experiment would have an interest as a\ntest of the colour-sense in dogs.\n\nAnother suggestion has been that, instead of words, pictorial\nrepresentations should be placed on the cards. This, however, could only\nbe done with material objects, such as \"food,\" \"bone,\" \"water,\" &c., and\nwould not be applicable to such words as \"out,\" \"pet me,\" &c.; nor even\nas regards the former class do I see that it would present any\nsubstantial advantage.\n\nAgain, it has been suggested that Van is led by scent rather than by\nsight. He has, no doubt, an excellent nose, but in this case he is\ncertainly guided by the eye. The cards are all handled by us, and must\nemit very nearly the same odour. I do not, however, rely on this, but\nhave in use a number of cards bearing the same word. When, for instance,\nhe has brought a card with \"food\" on it, we do not put down the same\nidentical card, but another with the same word; when he has brought\nthat, a third is put down, and so on. For a single meal, therefore,\neight or ten cards will have been used, and it seems clear, therefore,\nthat in selecting them Van must be guided by the letters.\n\nWhen I last wrote I had satisfied myself that he had learnt to regard\nthe bringing of a card as a request, and that he could distinguish a\ncard with the word \"food\" on it from a plain one, while I believed that\nhe could distinguish between a card with \"food\" on it and one with \"out\"\non it.\n\nI have now no doubt that he can distinguish between different words. For\ninstance, when he is hungry he will bring a \"food\" card time after time,\nuntil he has had enough, and then he lies down quietly for a nap. Again,\nwhen I am going for a walk, and invite him to come, he gladly responds\nby picking up the \"out\" card, and running triumphantly with it before me\nto the front door. In the same way he knows the \"bone\" card quite well.\nAs regards water (which I spell phonetically, so as not to confuse him\nunnecessarily), I keep a card always on the floor in my dressing-room,\nand whenever he is thirsty he goes off there, without any suggestion\nfrom me, and brings the card with perfect gravity. At the same time he\nis fond of a game, and if he is playful or excited will occasionally run\nabout with any card. If through inadvertence he brings a card for\nsomething he does not want, when the corresponding object is shown him,\nhe seizes the card, takes it back again, and fetches the right one. No\none who has seen him look along a row of cards, and select the right\none, can, I think, doubt that in bringing a card he feels that he is\nmaking a request, and that he can not only perfectly distinguish between\none word and another, but also associates the word and the object.\n\nI do not for a moment say that Van thus shows more intelligence than\nhas been recorded in the case of other dogs; that is not my point, but\nit does seem to me that this method of instruction opens out a means by\nwhich dogs and other animals may be enabled to communicate with us more\nsatisfactorily than hitherto. I am still continuing my observations, and\nam now considering the best mode of testing him in very simple\narithmetic, but I wish I could induce others to co-operate, for I feel\nsatisfied that the system would well repay more time and attention than\nI am myself able to give.\n\n          JOHN LUBBOCK.\n\n\nINSTINCT OF LOCALITY IN DOGS.\n\n          [_March 4, 1893._]\n\nA cat carried a hundred miles in a basket, a dog taken, perhaps, five\nhundred miles by rail, in a few days may have found their way back to\nthe starting-point. So we have often been told, and, no doubt, the thing\nhas happened. We have been astonished at the wonderful intelligence\ndisplayed. Magic, I should call it. Last week I heard of a captain who\nsailed from Aberdeen to Arbroath. He left behind him a dog which,\naccording to the story, had never been in Arbroath, but when he arrived\nthere the dog was waiting on the quay. I was expected to believe that\nthe dog had known his master's destination, and been able to inquire the\nway overland to Arbroath. Truly marvellous! But, really, it is time to\ninquire more carefully as to what these stories do mean; we must cease\nto ascribe our intelligence to animals, and learn that it is we that\noften possess their instinct. A cat on a farm will wander many miles in\nsearch of prey, and will therefore be well acquainted with the country\nfor many miles round. It is taken fifty miles away. Again it wanders,\nand comes across a bit of country it knew before. What more natural than\nthat it should go to its old home? Carrier-pigeons are taught \"homing\"\nby taking them gradually longer flights from home, so that they may\nlearn the look of the country. We cannot always discover that a dog\nactually was acquainted with the route by which it wanders home; but it\nis quite absurd to imagine, as most people at once do, that it was a\nperfect stranger to the lay of the land. To find our way a second time\nover ground we have once trod is scarcely intelligence; we can only call\nit instinct, though the word does not in the least explain the process.\nTwo years ago I first visited Douglas, in the Isle of Man. I reached the\nstation at 11 p.m.; I was guided to a house a mile through the town. I\nscarcely paid any attention to the route, yet next morning I found my\nway by the same route to the station, walking with my head bent, deeply\nthinking all the time about other things than the way. I have the\ninstinct of locality. Most people going into a dark room that they know\nare by muscular sense guided exactly to the very spot they wish; so\npeople who have the instinct of locality may wander over a moor exactly\nto the place they wish to reach without thinking of where they go. There\nmay be no mental exercise connected with this. I have known a lady of\ngreat intelligence who would lose her way within half-a-mile of the\nhouse she had lived in forty years. This feeling about place belongs to\nthat part of us that we have in common with the lower creatures. We need\nnot postulate that the animals ever show signs of possessing our\nintelligence; they possess, in common with us, what is not intelligence,\nbut instinct.\n\n          A. J. MACKINTOSH.\n\n\n          [_Sept. 24, 1892._]\n\nWill you allow me to record in the _Spectator_ \"another dog story\"? It\nis one that testifies, for the thousandth time, to canine sagacity,\nand, as we are still in the silly season, which has this year in\nparticular been so very prolific in human follies, it may be of special\ninterest to learn some clever doings on the part of beasts. Quite\nrecently a Westphalian squire travelled by rail from Luexen to Wesel, on\nthe Rhine, for the purpose of enjoying some hunting, and took with him\nhis favourite hound. The hunting party was to have started on a Sunday\nmorning at nine o'clock, but, to the squire's great disappointment, his\nsporting dog could nowhere be discovered. Disconsolate, he arrived on\nthe following Monday afternoon at his house, and, to his great delight,\nhe was greeted there with exuberant joy by his dog. The latter, who had\nnever made the journey from Luexen to Wesel, had simply run home, thus\nclearing a distance of eighty English miles through an unknown country.\nWhy the sporting dog should have declined to join the hunt is, perhaps,\na greater mystery than the fact of his returning home without any other\nguidance than his sagacious instinct. Possibly he was a Sabbatarian, and\nobjected to imitate his master's wicked example. So, Sunday papers,\nplease copy!\n\n          EIN THIERFREUND.\n\n\n          [_Sept. 8, 1894._]\n\nMay I be allowed to offer to your readers yet another instance of the\nfaithfulness and sagacity of our friend the dog? The anecdote comes from\na distinguished naval officer, and is best given in his own words: \"This\nis what happened to a spaniel of mine. It was given to our children as a\npuppy about three or four months old, and we have had it about five or\nsix months, making it about ten months old. It was born about three\nmiles from here, at Hertford, and has never been anywhere but from one\nhome to the other. When the time came for breaking him in for shooting\npurposes, I sent him to a keeper at Leighton-Buzzard, and, to insure a\nsafe arrival, sent the dog with my man-servant to the train here, and\nthence to King's Cross. He walked with the dog to Euston Station, turned\nhim over to the guard of the 12.15 train and the animal duly arrived at\nLeighton-Buzzard at 1.30, and was there met by the keeper and taken to\nhis home about three miles off. That was on the Friday. On the following\nTuesday, the dog having been with him three full days, he took him out\nin the morning with his gun, and at eight o'clock on Wednesday morning\n(that being the following day) the dog appeared here, rather dirty, and\nlooking as if he had travelled some distance, which he undoubtedly had.\nThere is no doubt that this puppy of ten months old was sent away,\ncertainly forty or fifty miles as the crow flies, and that he returned\nhere in a day. How he did it no one can say, but it is nevertheless a\nfact. It would be interesting to know his route and to trace his\nadventures.\" This anecdote is the more remarkable in consequence of the\nextreme youth of the dog, and particularly as he belongs to a breed of\nsporting dogs which are not generally considered to rank among the most\nintelligent of the species.\n\n          F. H. SUCKLING.\n\n\n          [_Sept. 15, 1894._]\n\nThe \"True Story of a Dog,\" in the _Spectator_ of September 8th, may be\nmatched, possibly explained, by a similar occurrence. I had bought a\nSpanish poodle pup of an Irishman who assured me, \"Indade, sir, an' the\ndog knows all my childer do, only he can't talk.\" He shut doors, opened\nthose with thumb-latches, and rushed upstairs and waked his mistress at\nwords of command. One day we were starting to drive to our former home\nin the city, six miles distant, but the dog was refused his usual place\nin the carriage, and shut up in the house. When we arrived, to our\nastonishment we found him waiting for us on the doorstep! We could not\nconceive how he got there, but upon inquiry found that he had got out,\ngone to the station, in some way entered the train, hid under a seat,\nand on arrival in the city threaded his way a mile through the streets,\nand was found quietly awaiting our arrival.\n\n          R. P. S.\n\n\n          [_May 3, 1884._]\n\nHow do we know that in inviting dogs to the use of words Sir John\nLubbock is _developing_ their intelligence? Are we sure that he is not\nasking them to descend to a lower level than their own, in teaching them\nto communicate with us through our proper forms of speech, unnecessary\nto them? I can vouch for the truth of the following story. A young\nkeeper, living about twelve miles east of Winchester, on leaving his\nsituation gave away a fox-terrier, which had been his constant companion\nfor some months; he then took another place in the north of Hampshire,\nnear the borders of Berkshire, in a part of the country to which he had\nnever been. The new owner of the dog took her with him to a village in\nSussex; before she had been there long she disappeared, and after a\nshort time found her old master in the woods at his new home. As I have\nsaid before, he had never been there before, neither had she. Rather\nungratefully, he again gave the dog away, this time to a man living some\nway north of Berkshire; she came back to him in a few days, and, I am\nhappy to say, is now to be allowed to stay with the master of her\nchoice. Can such a nature need to be taught our clumsy language.\n\n          A. H. WILLIAMS.\n\n\n          [_Feb. 16, 1895._]\n\nAs I see that you have published some interesting anecdotes about dogs,\nI send you the two following, which perhaps you may think worth\ninserting.\n\nIn 1873 we came to live in England, after a residence upon the\nContinent, bringing with us a Swiss terrier of doubtful breed but of\nmarked sagacity, called Tan. One day, shortly after reaching the new\nhome from Switzerland, the dog was lost under the following\ncircumstances:--We had driven to a station eight miles off--East\nHarling--to meet a friend. As the friend got out of the railway carriage\nthe dog got in without being noticed and the train proceeded on its way.\nAt the next station--Eccles Road--the dog's barking attracted the\nattention of the station-master, who opened the carriage door, and the\ndog jumped out. The station-master and the dog were perfect strangers.\nHe and a porter tried to lock up the dog, but he flew viciously at any\none who attempted to touch him, although he was not above accepting\nfood. For the next three days his behaviour was decidedly methodical;\nstarting from the station in the morning, he came back dejected and\ntired at night. At last, on the evening of the third day, he reached\nhome, some nine miles away, along roads which he had not before\ntravelled, a sorry object and decidedly the worse for wear; after some\nfood he slept for twenty-four hours straight off.\n\nAnecdote number two. One day a handsome black, smooth-haired retriever\npuppy was given to us, whom we named Neptune. The terrier Tan greatly\nresented having this new companion thrust upon him, and became very\njealous of him. Being small, he was unable to tackle so large a dog, but\nsagacity accomplished what strength could not. Tan disappeared for two\ndays. One evening, hearing a tremendous commotion in the yard, we\nrushed out to find a huge dog of the St. Bernard species inflicting a\nsevere castigation upon poor Nep, Tan meanwhile looking on, complacently\nwagging his tail. Both Tan and his companion then disappeared for two\nmore days, after which Tan reappeared alone, apparently in an equable\nframe of mind, and satisfied that he had had his revenge. We never\ndiscovered where the large dog came from. I can attest the truth of the\ntwo stories.\n\n          CECIL DOWNTON.\n\n\nRAILWAY DOGS.\n\n          [_July 10, 1887._]\n\nYour dog-loving readers may be interested to hear that there is (or was\ntill lately) in South Africa a rival to the well-known Travelling Jack,\nof Brighton line fame, after whom, indeed, he has been nicknamed by his\nacquaintance.\n\nI was introduced to him eighteen months ago, on board the _Norham\nCastle_, on a voyage from Cape Town to England--a voyage which this\ndistinguished Colonial traveller was making much against his will. He\nwas a black-and-tan terrier with a white chest, whose intellect had\ntherefore probably been improved by a dash of mongrelism, and I was told\nthat he belonged to a gentleman connected with the railway department\nliving at Port Elizabeth. It appears that it was Mr. Jack's habit\nfrequently to embark all by himself on board the mail steamer leaving\nthat place on Saturday afternoon, and make the trip round the coast to\nCape Town, arriving there on Monday morning. Where he \"put up\" I do not\nknow, but he used to stay there until Wednesday evening, when he would\ncalmly walk into the station, take his place in the train, and return to\nPort Elizabeth in that way, thus completing his \"circular tour\" by a\nrailway journey of about eight hundred miles.\n\nHe was well known by the officers and sailors of the _Norham_, and her\ncommander, Captain Alexander Winchester (who can vouch for these facts),\ntold me that, as the dog seemed fond of the sea, he had determined to\ngive him a long voyage for a change, and had kept him shut up on board\nduring the ship's stay at Cape Town.\n\nJack was evidently very uneasy at being taken on beyond his usual port,\nand he was on the point of slipping into a boat for the shore at\nMadeira, probably with a view of returning to the Cape by the next\nsteamer, when I called the captain's attention to him, and he was\npromptly shut up again. I said good-bye to him at Plymouth, and hope he\nfound his way home safely on the return voyage.\n\n          EX-COLONIST.\n\n\n          [_June 23, 1894._]\n\nI have read with much interest the stories in the _Spectator_ of the\nsagacity of animals. The following, I think, is worth recording:--The\nchief-engineer of the Midland and South-Western Junction Railway, Mr. J.\nR. Shopland, C.E., has a spaniel that frequently accompanies him or his\nsons to their office. On Saturday last this dog went to Marlborough from\nSwindon by train with one of Mr. Shopland's clerks, and walked with him\nto Savernake Forest. Suddenly the dog was missing. The creature had gone\nback to the station at Marlborough and taken a seat in a second-class\ncompartment. The dog defied the efforts of the railway officials to\ndislodge him. When the train reached Swindon he came out of the carriage\nand walked quietly to his master's residence.\n\n          SAMUEL SNELL.\n\n\n          [_March 30, 1895._]\n\nI was witness the other day of what I had only heard of before--a dog\ntravelling by rail on his own account. I got into the train at Uxbridge\nRoad, and, the compartment being vacant, took up the seat which I now\nprefer--the corner seat at the entrance with the back to the engine.\nPresently a whole crowd of ladies got in, and with them a dog, which I\nsupposed to belong to them. All the ladies except one got out at Addison\nRoad, and then the dog slunk across the carriage to just under my seat.\nI asked my remaining fellow-passenger whether the dog was hers; she said\n\"No.\" No one got in before she herself got out at South Kensington,\nwhere the dog remained perfectly quiet, but at Sloane Square a man was\nlet in, and out rushed the dog, the door actually grazing his sides. Had\nhe not taken up the precise place he did, he must have been shut in or\ncrushed. \"That dog is a stowaway,\" I observed to the porter who had\nopened the door. \"I suppose he is,\" the man answered. The dog was making\nthe best of his way to the stairs. Clearly the dog meant to get out at\nthat particular station (he had had ample opportunity of getting out\nboth at Addison Road and South Kensington), and had, as soon as he\ncould, taken up the best position for doing so. How did he recognise the\nSloane Square Station, for he had had only those two opportunities of\nglancing out? It seems to me it could only have been by counting the\nstations, in which case he must be able to reckon up to five. The dog\nwas a very ordinary London cur, white and tan, of a greatly mixed Scotch\nterrier stock, the long muzzle showing a greyhound cross. He was thin,\nand apparently conscious of breaking the law, hiding out of sight, and\nslinking along with his tail between his legs, and altogether not worth\nstealing. I suppose that he had been transferred to a new home which had\nproved uncongenial, and was slipping away, in fear and trembling, to his\nold quarters.\n\n          J. M. L.\n\n\n\n\n_EMOTION AND SENTIMENT IN DOGS._\n\n\n\nA DOG'S REMORSE.\n\n          [_Sept. 1, 1883._]\n\nA remarkable instance of the effect that can be produced upon a dog by\nthe human voice was related to me yesterday. Some of your correspondents\nwould consider it confirmatory of their notion that dogs have mind\nenough to understand words; but I myself rather believe that the sound\nof the voice acts upon the _feelings_ of dumb animals just as\ninstrumental music acts upon us. The story is as follows:--A clergyman\nhad for a long time a dog, and no other domestic animal. He and his\nservant made a great pet of the dog. At last, however, the clergyman\ntook to keeping a few fowls, and the servant fed them. The dog showed\nhimself very jealous and out of humour at this, and when Sunday came\nround, and he was left alone, he took the opportunity to _kill and bury_\ntwo hens. A claw half-uncovered betrayed what he had done. His master\ndid not beat him, but took hold of him, and _talked_ to him, most\nbitterly, most severely. \"You've been guilty of the sin of murder,\nsir,--and on the Sabbath day, too; and you, a clergyman's dog, taking a\nmean advantage of my absence!\" &c. He talked on and on for a long time,\nin the same serious and reproachful strain. Early the next morning the\nmaster had to leave home for a day or so; and he did so without speaking\na word of kindness to the dog, because he said he wished him to feel\nhimself in disgrace. On his return, the first thing he was told was,\n\"The dog is dead. He never ate nor drank after you had spoken to him; he\njust lay and pined away, and he died an hour ago.\"\n\n          L. G. GILLUM.\n\n\nA CONSCIENCE-STRICKEN DOG.\n\n          [_Feb. 1, 1879._]\n\nYou have frequently published letters containing stories bearing on the\nquestion of the moral nature and the future of the lower animals. I\nventure to send you some facts about a dog, narrated to me by a lady,\nwhose name and address I enclose for your own satisfaction, and at my\nrequest written down by her as follows--\n\n\"A young fox-terrier, about eight months old, took a great fancy to a\nsmall brush, of Indian workmanship, lying on the drawing-room table. It\nhad been punished more than once for jumping on the table and taking it.\nOn one occasion, the little dog was left alone in the room accidentally.\nOn my return, it jumped to greet me as usual, and I said, 'Have you been\na good little dog while you have been left alone?' Immediately it put\nits tail between its legs and slunk off into an adjoining room, and\nbrought back the little brush in its mouth from where it had hidden it.\n\n\"I was much struck with what appeared to me a remarkable instance of a\ndog possessing a conscience, and a few months afterwards, finding it\nagain alone in the room, I asked the same question, while patting it. At\nonce I saw it had been up to some mischief, for with the same look of\nshame it walked slowly to one of the windows, where it lay down, with\nits nose pointing to a letter bitten and torn into shreds. On a third\noccasion, it showed me where it had strewn a number of little tickets\nabout the floor, for doing which it had been reproved previously. I\ncannot account for these facts, except by supposing the dog must have a\nconscience.\"\n\nThe conduct of this dog seems to me, sir, to exhibit something different\nfrom fear of punishment, viz., a sense of shame, a remorse, a desire to\nconfess his fault, and even to expiate it by punishment, in order to\nfeel the guilt no longer. He rather sought punishment, than feared it.\n\n          TH. HILL.\n\n\nA DOG'S AFFECTION.\n\n          [_April 24, 1875._]\n\nI saw an anecdote in your paper the other week illustrative of the\nsagacity of a dog. Kindly allow me to place upon record, as a kind of a\ncompanion picture, an anecdote showing the _affection_ of one of the\ncanine species--a fine young retriever. For some weeks I have been\nstaying away from my house in the country, where is the fine young\nretriever in question. Well, last week the household missed him for\nhours, and began to think he was lost. Nothing of the kind, however. The\nservant, happening to go up to my bedroom, found him with his head\nresting on my pillow, moaning heavily, and it was only with great\ndifficulty that she could drive him away. Surely it is incidents such as\nthese that have made so many great men rail against humanity and uphold\ntheir dog!\n\n          WILL WILLIAMS.\n\n\nAFFECTION.\n\n          [_Sept. 15, 1894._]\n\nAs you sometimes admit anecdotes of animals into the _Spectator_,\nperhaps you may consider the following fact worthy of record. In a hotel\nwhere I am staying, being distressed by the cry of anguish of a dog\noccasionally, I inquired the cause, and was told that whenever he\nhappens to be in the hall when luggage is brought down to go in the\nomnibus, he utters these bitter cries, and has to be removed. His master\nleft him here many months ago, and the supposition is that the sight of\nthe luggage and omnibus recalls his loss; and is another instance of the\nfaithful affection of these half-human creatures.\n\n          J. K.\n\n\nSYMPATHY IN A DOG.\n\n          [_July 30, 1892._]\n\nThe article, \"Animals in Sickness,\" in the _Spectator_ of July 23rd, has\nreminded me of the following anecdote, which was told to me some years\nago by a butcher residing at Brodick, in the Isle of Arran. He told me\nthat he had had two collie dogs at the same time, one old and the other\nyoung. The old dog became useless through age, and was drowned in the\nsea at Brodick. A few days afterwards, its body was washed ashore, and\nit was discovered by the young dog, who was seen immediately to go to\nthe butcher's shop and take away a piece of meat and lay it at the dead\ndog's mouth. The young dog evidently thought that the meat would revive\nhis old comrade, and thereby showed remarkable sympathy in aid of, to\nhim, the apparent \"weak.\"\n\n          DAVID HANNAY.\n\n\nA DOG'S HUMANITY.\n\n          [_April 18, 1891._]\n\nPossibly it is from an excess of the \"maudlin sentimentality\" of which\nphysiologists complain in those who protest against cruelty to animals,\nthat I find it almost painful to read such pathetic stories of dogs as\nthe one given by Miss Cobbe in the _Spectator_ of April 11th; for they\ntell of such intelligence and devotion, that, remembering the inhuman\nway in which our poor dogs are too often treated, we feel it would be\nalmost better if they lacked these human qualities.\n\nThe following is an anecdote of the same kind, that ever since I heard\nit, I have been intending to send it to the _Spectator_. The servant-man\nof one of my friends took a kitten to a pond with the intention of\ndrowning it. His master's dog was with him, and when the kitten was\nthrown into the water, the dog sprang in and brought it back safely to\nland. A second time the man threw it in, and again the dog rescued it;\nand when for the third time the man tried to drown it, the dog, as\nresolute to save the little helpless life as the man was to destroy it,\nswam with it to the other side of the pool, running all the way home\nwith it, and safely depositing it before the kitchen fire; and \"ever\nafter\" they were inseparable, sharing even the same bed!\n\nWhen not long ago I came across the noble sentiment that \"hecatombs of\nbrutes should be tortured, if man thereby could be saved one pang,\" I\nfound myself dimly wondering what constituted a \"brute.\" Certainly, in\nthe incident I have just given, the \"brute\" was not the dog!\n\n          S. W.\n\n\nA CANINE MEMBER OF THE S.P.C.A.\n\n          [_June 18, 1892._]\n\nIf you think this little anecdote of canine friendliness worthy of the\n_Spectator_, will you insert it for me? Last week a sick dog took up its\nabode in the field behind our house, and after seeing the poor thing\nlying there for some time, I took it food and milk-and-water. The next\nday it was still there, and when I was going out to feed it, I saw that\na small pug was running about it, so I took a whip out with me to drive\nit away. The pug planted itself between me and the sick dog, and barked\nat me savagely, but at last I drove it away, and again gave food and\nmilk-and-water to my _protege_. The little pug watched me for a few\nmoments, and as soon as he felt quite assured that my intentions towards\nthe sick dog were friendly, it ran to me wagging its tail, leapt up to\nmy shoulder, and licked my face and hands, nor would it touch the water\ntill the invalid had had all it wanted. I suppose that it was satisfied\nthat its companion was in good hands, for it trotted happily away, and\ndid not appear upon the scene again.\n\n          VIOLET DAVIES.\n\n\nA DOG'S COURTESY.\n\n          [_Nov. 29, 1890._]\n\nIn your article on Mr. Nettleship's pictures of animals, you note the\ndelicacy of a dog that has been properly trained in the matter of taking\nits food. My little dog is not only most dainty in that particular, but\nstrictly observes the courtesy, which is natural, not taught, of not\nbeginning his dinner (served on white napery that is never soiled) until\nhis master begins his own. No amount of coaxing on the part of the\nladies (they do not wait) will induce him to eat if I am late: he merely\nconsents to have his muzzle taken off, inspects his dinner, and then\nseeks his master's room, where he waits to accompany him in orderly\nfashion downstairs.\n\n          C. HARPER.\n\n\nCANINE JEALOUSY.\n\n          [_Dec. 12, 1891._]\n\nI am not versed in dog-lore, and it may be that my love for the animal\nmakes me an ill judge of the importance of the following story; but a\nfriend vouches for its truth, and to my mind it has its importance, not\nfrom its display of jealousy, but from the dog's deliberate acceptance\nof the undoubtedly changed condition, and the clearly metaphysical\ncharacter of his motive.\n\nThe story is this. A young man had owned for some years a dog who was\nhis constant companion. Recently the young man married, and moved with\nhis bride and his dog into a house on the opposite side of the street\nfrom his father's house, his own former home. The dog was not happy, for\nthe time and attention which had formerly been his was now given to the\nyoung wife. In many ways he showed his unhappiness and displeasure, in\nspite of the fact that the master tried to reconcile him and the bride\nto win him. One day when the master came home, his wife sat on his\nknee, while Jack was lying by the fire. He rose from his place, came\nover to the couple, and expressed his disapproval. \"Why, Jack,\" said the\nmaster, \"this is all right, she's a good girl,\" and as he spoke, he\npatted her arm. Jack looked up at him, turned away, and left the room.\nIn a moment they heard a noise, and going into the hall, they found Jack\ndragging his bed downstairs. When he reached the front door, he whined\nto be let out, and when the door was opened, he dragged his bed down the\nsteps, across the street to his old home, where he scratched for\nadmittance. Since then he has never been back to his master, refusing\nall overtures.\n\n          CHAS. MORRIS ADDISON.\n\n\nA JEALOUS DOG.\n\n          [_Jan. 12, 1895._]\n\nI was greatly interested in the story of the generosity shown by a dog,\nas related in the _Spectator_ of January 5th, because of a similar case\nwithin my own knowledge, and yet so different, as to prove that the\ndispositions of animals are as varied as those of human beings. A friend\nof mine had two fox-terriers, inseparable companions, and both equally\ndevoted to their mistress. On one occasion, when the family had been\naway from home for some time, and were returning, one of these pets, not\nbeing well, was brought back with its mistress, while the other was left\nto follow with the horses, &c., and did not arrive for three days. On\nentering the house, the dog had a very sullen appearance, took no notice\nof any one, but searched everywhere till he found his companion; then\nflew at his throat, and would have killed him but for timely succour!\nCould any human being have indulged in a more rankling jealousy?\n\n          E. A. K.\n\n\nA DOG THAT SCORNED TO BE JEALOUS.\n\n          [_Jan. 5, 1895._]\n\nThe following history of canine sympathy may interest your readers. I\nwas once the happy owner of a large and beautiful bull-terrier, Rose,\nand at the same time of a still dearer, though less beautiful, little\nmongrel, Fan, both passionately attached to a member of my household,\ncommonly called their best friend. A certain shawl belonging to this\nadored friend was especially sacred in Fan's eyes. She never allowed any\none to touch it without remonstrance--Rose least of all--and when her\nbest friend was in bed, it was Fan's custom to ensconce herself in her\narms, and not to allow any dog, and only the most favoured of human\nbeings, to approach without violent growlings, if not worse. Fan was a\ntiny grandmother who had long ruled the household; Rose, an\ninexperienced newcomer. One day, in a fit of youthful folly, Rose jumped\nover a gate and spiked herself badly, and was consigned for ten days to\nthe care of the veterinary surgeon. On her return, she was cordially\nwelcomed by Fan and myself; but when she rushed upstairs to the room of\nher best friend (then confined to her bed), my mind forboded mischief.\nWe followed, and I opened the door. With one bound Rose flew into her\nbest friend's arms, taking Fan's very own place, and was lost in a\nrapture of licking and being caressed. Fan flew after her, but to my\namazement, instead of the fury I expected, it was to join with heart and\ntongue in the licking and caressing. She licked Rose as if she had been\na long-lost puppy, instead of an intruder; and then, of her own accord,\nturned away, leaving Rose in possession, and took up a distant place on\nthe foot of the bed, appealing to me with an almost human expression of\nmingled feelings--the heroic self-abnegation of new-born sympathy\nstruggling with natural jealousy. The better feelings triumphed (not, of\ncourse, unsupported by human recognition and applause), till both dogs\nfell asleep in their strangely reversed positions. After this, there was\na slight temporary failure in Fan's perhaps overstrained self-conquest;\nbut on the next day but one she actually, for the first (and last) time\nin her life, made Rose welcome to a place beside her on the sacred\nshawl; where again they slept side by side like sisters. This, however,\nwas the last gleam of the special sympathy called forth by Rose's\ntroubles. From that day Fan decidedly and finally resumed her jealous\noccupation and guardianship of all sacred places and things, and\nmaintained it energetically to her life's end.\n\n          C. E. S.\n\n\n\n\n_DOGS AND THE ARTS._\n\n\n\n\nMUSIC AND DOGS.\n\n          [_Oct. 24, 1891._]\n\nDogs, as well as horses, can recognise tunes. Many years ago a friend,\nduring a short absence from our station on the Kurrumfooler, lent my\nsister a pet dog. Cissie was constantly in the room while playing and\nsinging went on, without taking any notice; but whenever the temporary\nmistress began singing one favourite song of the absent mistress's, the\ndog would jump on a chair by her side with evident pleasure.\n\n          O. H. G.\n\n\n          [_Oct. 24, 1891._]\n\nI have read with much interest your correspondent's letter on the\ncapability of animals to distinguish tunes. I had a small dog who, when\nfirst I got him, would have howled incessantly during singing. This,\nhowever, he was not allowed to do, except to one tune, which he soon\nknew and always joined in, not attempting to \"sing\" other songs. We\ntried every sort of experiment to see if he would recognise his own\ntune, which he invariably did, and would whine if the air was hummed\nquite quietly.\n\n          C. F. HARRISON.\n\n\n          [_Oct. 24, 1891._]\n\nAnent \"Orpheus at the Zoo,\" the following facts may interest you. Of two\ndogs of mine, one showed a great fondness for music. She (though usually\nmy shadow) would always leave me to go to a room where a piano was being\nplayed, and the more she liked the music, the closer she crept to the\nplayer, even if a stranger to her. If, however, one began to play scales\nor exercises, she would get up, walk to the door, sit down, and, after\nwaiting a bit, go away out of sight, but not out of hearing, for she\nsoon appeared again on the resumption of music to her taste. On the\nother hand, mere \"strumming\" very quickly obliged her to go right away\nout of hearing. I confess that I have many times plagued the poor dog\nby thus sending her backwards and forwards. Her looks were often very\ncomical. The other dog evidently hated music--would try to push a player\nfrom the piano, go out of hearing, and show other unmistakable signs of\ndislike. A band would draw one dog out to listen, while the other rushed\naway to hide. In one house the dog first mentioned had, for some reason\nor other, a particular objection to the room where the piano was, and\nnever willingly stayed there. Music would bring her in, but only to sigh\nand moan, evidently in great pity for herself at being obliged to listen\nunder such (to her) trying conditions. From these and other observations\nI am convinced that there is the musical dog as well as the unmusical,\njust as with human beings.\n\n          D.\n\n\nRECOGNITION OF LIKENESSES BY DOGS.\n\n          [_May 5, 1894._]\n\nIn the _Spectator_ of April 21st there is an article on Apes, in which\nthe following occurs:--\"Monkeys, we believe, alone among animals can\nrecognise the meaning of a picture.\" It may interest some of your\nreaders to hear that certain other animals can also do this, two\ninstances having come under my own observation. A cat belonging to a\nlittle girl I know was on the child's bed one morning, and made a spring\nat a picture of a thrush, about life-size, which was hanging near. The\nother case is that of a dog--a female Irish terrier--who is in the habit\nof running with her mistress's pony carriage. When she sees the pony\nbeing harnessed, she often shows her delight by jumping up at its head\nand barking. In a certain shop to which she sometimes goes with her\nmistress there is a picture of a horse hanging. The dog invariably\nbehaves in exactly the same manner to this, jumping up and barking at\nit, thus showing unmistakably that she recognises its meaning.\n\n          JULIA ANDREWS.\n\n\n          _May 19, 1894._\n\nThe following instance bears on the subject discussed in the _Spectator_\nof May 5th. We had for a newcomer to our circle a little terrier dog. I\nwas informed it had been seen in the library facing a large-sized\nportrait of myself, and barking furiously. I was somewhat sceptical\nuntil a day or two later I saw it repeat the performance. I have\nwondered whether it was because the dog thought it a good or bad\nrepresentation of the original, and so was complimenting or otherwise\nthe artist.\n\n          FRANK WRIGHT.\n\n\n          [_May 19, 1894._]\n\nApropos of the recognition of pictures by dogs (_Spectator_, May 5th), I\nthink you may be interested in the two following facts which came under\nmy notice a few years ago. A sagacious but quite uneducated old terrier\ncame with his master to call for me, and coiled himself on the hearthrug\nwhile we talked. Turning himself round in the intervals of slumber, his\neye caught an oil-painting just over his head (a life-size half-length\nof a gentleman). He immediately sat up, showed his teeth, and\ngrowled--not once, but continually--as both angry and mortified that\nneither eyes nor nose had given him notice of the arrival of a stranger!\nThe next instance was similar, except that the chief actor was a young,\nintelligent collie, who, on the sudden discovery of a man looking at him\nfrom the wall, barked long and furiously. In both instances, after their\nexcitement had subsided, I led the dogs to look at another picture\nsimilar in size, and also of a gentleman, but neither of them would take\nthe smallest notice of it. I need only add that the picture which the\ndogs appreciated was painted by Sir Henry Raeburn--the other was not.\nMight not a few sagacious canine members be a useful addition to the\nRoyal Academy Hanging Committee?\n\n          B. THOMSON.\n\n\n          [_May 26, 1894._]\n\nMany years ago I had a similar experience to Mr. Frank Wright. A\nlikeness of myself, head and shoulders, drawn in chalk from a\nphotograph, and enlarged to nearly life size, hung on the dining-room\nwall of a house I then occupied. One evening my wife silently called my\nattention to a young English terrier, who had not been very long with\nus, looking up at it very steadfastly. He regarded it for about a minute\nin silence, and at last broke out into a loud bark, which I supposed to\nmean that in his opinion the wall was not my proper place, and that only\nan evil genius could have set anything like me in such a position.\n\n          G.\n\n\n          [_June 2, 1894._]\n\nYou were so good as to insert my little account of the politeness of a\nparrot in the _Spectator_, will you now allow me also to bear witness to\nthe recognition of a likeness by a dog? Some time ago I was painting two\nportraits in the country, and one day by chance I placed the picture of\nmy hostess on the ground. Immediately her old spaniel came and gazed\nintently at the face for several seconds. Then he smelt at the canvas,\nand, unsatisfied, walked round and investigated the back. Finally,\nhaving discovered the deception, he turned away in manifest disgust, and\nnothing that we could do or say, on that day or on any other, would\ninduce that dog to look at that picture again. We then tried him by\nputting my portrait of his master also on the ground, but he simply gave\nit a kind of casual contemptuous side-glance and took no further notice\nof it. We attributed this not to any difference in the merits or\ndemerits of the two portraits, but simply to the fact that the dog felt\nhe had been deceived once, but was not to be so taken in again.\n\n          LOUISA STARR CANZIANI.\n\n\nRECOGNITION BY ANIMALS OF PICTURES.\n\n          [_Sept. 7, 1889._]\n\nThirty years ago I was staying at Langley, near Chippenham, with a lady\nwho was working a large screen, on which she depicted in \"raised\" work\n(as it was then called) a life-sized cat on a cushion. The host, a\nsportsman now dead, was much struck with the similarity to life of the\ncat, so he fetched his dog (alas! like too many of the species), a\ncat-hater. The animal made a dead set at the (wool) cat, and but for the\nmaster's vigorous clutching him by the collar, the cushion would have\nbeen torn into atoms. I related this tale lately in Oxford, and my\nhearer told me that a friend in the Bevington Road had just painted a\nbird on a fire-screen, and her cat flew at it.\n\nMy own old dog, Scaramouch (a pet of the Duke of Albany's in his\nundergraduate days), disliked being washed, and when I showed him a\nlarge _Graphic_ picture of a child scrubbing a fox-terrier in a tub, he\nturned his head away ruefully, and would not look at his brother in\nadversity.\n\n          J. M. HULBERT.\n\n\n\n\n_DOG FRIENDSHIPS._\n\n\n\n\nDOG FRIENDS.\n\n          [_Feb. 16, 1889._]\n\nThe following story of friendship between two dogs may, I think,\ninterest some of your readers. Some time ago I used often to stay with a\nfriend in Wiltshire, whose park is separated from the house by a lake\nwhich is about a hundred and fifty yards broad at the narrowest part.\nBeing extremely fond of animals, I soon became intimate with two\ndelightful dogs belonging to my hostess, a large collie, called Jasper,\nand a rough Skye terrier, Sandie. The pair were devoted friends, if\npossible always went out together, and, sad to relate, even poached\ntogether. One afternoon I called them, as usual, to go for a walk, and\nmaking my way to the lake, I determined to row across and wander about\nin the deer-park. Without thinking of my two companions, I got into the\nboat and pushed off. Jasper at once jumped into the water and gaily\nfollowed the boat; half way across he and I were both startled by\ndespairing howls, and stopping to look back, we saw poor little Sandie\nrunning up and down the bank, and bitterly bewailing the cruelty of his\ntwo so-called friends in leaving him behind. Hardening my heart, I sat\nstill in silence, and simply watched. Jasper was clearly distressed; he\nswam round the boat, and looking up into my face, said unmistakably with\nhis wise brown eyes, \"Why don't you go to the rescue?\" Seeing, however,\nthat I showed no signs of intelligence, he made up his mind to settle\nthe difficulty himself, so turned and swam back to forlorn little\nSandie; there was a moment's pause, I suppose for explanations, and\nthen, to my surprise and amusement, Jasper stood still, half out and\nhalf in the water, and Sandie scrambled on to his back, his front paws\nresting on Jasper's neck, who swam across the lake and landed him safely\nin the deer-park! I need not describe the evident pride of the one, or\nthe gratitude of the other.\n\n          ROY.\n\n\nFRIENDSHIPS OF DOGS WITH OTHER ANIMALS.\n\n\nA LESSON.\n\n          [_Feb. 23, 1889._]\n\nYour correspondent \"Roy's\" very interesting account of \"A Canine\nFriendship\" tempts me to send you the following about two Dandy Dinmonts\nin this neighbourhood.\n\nFriends of mine in Dumfriesshire had in their house two Dandie Dinmont\ndogs who were inseparable friends and constant companions in all that\nwas going on. One day one of these dogs disappeared unaccountably, and\nnothing was seen of it for a week. His owners were very vexed, thinking\nhe must have got within the range of some keeper's gun or met with some\nother accident.\n\nBut the absentee's home-keeping companion was greatly distressed; he\nmoped about, and would not touch any food for several days; till,\nunexpectedly on my friend's part, the truant suddenly reappeared and\nshowed himself in the house. The dog who had remained at home, when he\nsaw the arrival of his former friend, looked steadily at him for a few\nseconds, and then, without further parley, went at him and gave the\ntruant a thoroughly sound thrashing. I always explain this to myself by\nsupposing that the home-keeping dog decided that the truant had caused\nhim for several days needless anxiety and abstinence from food, and that\nthe truant must learn by painful experience that such behaviour could\nnot be lightly condoned by his inseparable companion.\n\n          J. G.\n\n\nCONSCIOUS AUTOMATA.\n\n          [_July 31, 1875._]\n\nI have lately heard a story that I hope you may think worthy of a place\namong your illustrations of the thoughtful intelligence of \"Conscious\nAutomata.\" Many years ago, a family having a house in Grosvenor Square,\nand a place in the country (I think in Warwickshire), owned a terrier,\nwho, in the country, made great friends with a large Newfoundland. When\nthey came to town they brought the terrier, and he resided in a mews\nwhere he was much annoyed by a cur who lived next door, and attacked him\nwhenever he came out. One day the terrier disappeared, but after a\nlittle time returned, bringing with him his big friend, who gave the\nvulgar bully a satisfactory thrashing--not attempting to kill him. This\nhas been told me by an old servant, who was then a young man, living in\nservice in London, close to the owners of the dogs. He answers for the\nfacts of the story as he heard them at the time.\n\n          F. C.\n\n\nDOG AND PIGEON.\n\n          [_Sept. 22, 1888._]\n\nThe _Spectator_ does not disdain anecdotes of dogs and their doings, and\nI think the following history, to which I can bear personal testimony,\nmay be found not uninteresting to your readers. At this delightful house\nin Perthshire, where I am on a visit, there is a well-bred pointer,\nnamed Fop, who, when not engaged in his professional pursuits on the\nmoor, lives chiefly in a kennel placed in a loose-box adjoining the\nother stables attached to the house. Nearly a year ago there were a pair\nof pigeons who lived in and about the stable yard. One of the birds\ndied, and its bereaved mate at once attached itself for society and\nprotection to the dog, and has been its constant companion ever since.\nOn the days when the sportsmen are not seeking grouse the dog is in his\nkennel, and the pigeon is always his close attendant. She roosts on a\nrack over the manger of the stable, and in the day-time is either\nstrutting about preening her feathers, taking her meals from the dog's\nbiscuit and water tin, or quite as often sitting in the kennel by his\nside, nestling close to him. Fop, who is an amiable and rather\nsentimental being, takes no apparent notice of his companion, except\nthat we observe him, in jumping into or out of his kennel while the\npigeon is there, to take obvious care not to crush or disturb her in any\nway. The only other symptom Fop has shown of being jealous for the\npigeon's comfort and convenience is that when of late two chickens from\nthe stable-yard wandered into the apartment where the dog and pigeon\nreside, he very promptly bit their heads off, as if in mute intimation\nthat one bird is company, and two (or rather three) are none.\n\nThe story is rather one of a pigeon than a dog, for it is quite evident\nthat she is the devoted friend, and that he acquiesces in the\nfriendship. On the days when Fop is taken, to his infinite delight, on\nto the moor, the pigeon is much concerned. She follows him as far as she\ndare, taking a series of short flights over his head, until a little\nwood is reached, through which the keeper and dogs have to take their\nway. At this point her courage fails her, and she returns to the stable,\nto wait hopefully for her comrade's return.\n\nThis singular alliance is a great joy and interest to the keepers,\ncoachmen, and grooms of the establishment, and as the keeper gave me a\nstrong hint that the story ought to be told in print, adding that he had\nseen much less noteworthy incidents of animal life promoted to such\nhonour, I have ventured to send it to you. I may add that the pigeon is\nof the kind called \"Jacobin,\" and is white, with a black wing. Is there\nany precedent for such close intimacies between animals so widely\nseparated in kind and habit?\n\n          ALFRED AINGER.\n\n\nA HEN AND PUPPIES.\n\n          [_Sept. 29, 1888._]\n\nIn reply to Mr. Ainger's question as to there being \"any precedent for\nsuch close intimacies between animals so widely separated in kind and\nhabit\" as the dog and pigeon mentioned in his interesting letter, I can\nmention two cases which have come under my notice this last summer at my\nfarm in Berkshire. In one case the friendship existed between a pullet\nand a pig. The pullet never left the farmyard to join in the rambles of\nthe other fowls, but kept near the pig all day, occasionally roosting on\nits friend's back when taking its afternoon nap.\n\nThe other case was more remarkable. A hen, with strong motherly\ninstincts, but no family of her own, acted for several weeks as\nfoster-mother to eight spaniel puppies. The real mother, a very gentle\ncreature, soon acquiesced in the arrangement. The hen covered the\npuppies with her wings just as though they had been chickens, and\nremained with them day and night. When they began to walk she was still\ntheir constant attendant; when they learned to lap and eat a little she\nwould \"call\" them and break up their food. As they grew older the poor\nfoster-mother had her patience sorely tried. They barked and capered\naround her, leading her altogether a sad life. After the puppies\ndeserted her she was often seen sitting close to their mother, the pair\napparently quite understanding each other. My children were naturally\ndelighted to watch these strange sights, and the hen, though not at\nother times very tame, maintained perfect equanimity while they played\nwith the puppies around her.\n\n          F. C. MAXWELL.\n\n\nA DOG AND A RABBIT.\n\n          [_Sept. 29, 1888._]\n\nMr. Ainger, in giving his interesting incident of strange friendships\nbetween animals, asks if there are any precedents for such incongruous\nintimacy as he saw between a dog and a pigeon. To most close observers\nof animals, such curious cases, though always noteworthy, are well\nknown; naturalists like Buckland and many others have frequently\nrecorded them.\n\nWith the view of adding to the lore on this matter, permit me to cite\nthe following. Two Scotch terriers are lying before the fire. Prince is\nan amiable sort of dog; Jack is rather surly; both good vermin-killers\nand fond of hunting. I bring in a common buck rabbit, and place it\nbeside the dogs, with the intimation they were not to touch it. Trust,\nand then alliance, quickly grew between it and Prince, whilst Jack shows\nunmistakable hatred. In a few days the two friends, with their paws\nabsurdly clasping each other's necks, sleep happily on the rug; they\nplay together, they chase each other up and down the stairs and all over\nthe house at full speed, and when tired come back to the rug. Jack\nrefusing all this sort of thing, makes the rabbit look at him with a\nsort of awe. Does Bunny make no mess in the house? None whatever; he\ngoes into the garden as the dogs do, and like them, scratches at the\ndoor when he wants to return. All this he does without any instruction\nfrom us. After a while, being very fond of him, we put on the floor a\npretty pink-eyed doe as a present. He stares, sniffs her all over, kills\nher on the spot, and goes for a romp with his dear Prince. Jack always\nsleeps under my bed from choice, and just before I put out the light as\nI lie, stands up against the bed for his last pat and \"good-night.\"\nBunny has observed all this, and quietly creeps into the room, which he\nrefuses to leave; then likewise always asks for his \"good-night,\" and\nsleeps somewhere near his great \"ideal.\"\n\nAnother instance, published in \"Loch Creran\" by my friend Mr. Anderson\nSmith. I punished my cat for killing a chicken. The next day he is seen\nto carry a live chicken in his mouth and lay it down to the hen he had\npreviously robbed. He and the chicken afterwards were frequently\nobserved leaving the orchard together, and travelling through the\ncourtyard and back passages, find their way to the kitchen fireplace,\nwhere they would sleep in good fellowship. This chicken, I discovered,\nhad been stolen nearly two miles away. It is important to remark that\nthe cat, though a cruel bird-killer, never touched another chicken. Was\nthe idea of compensation in the cat's mind? If not that, all the\ncircumstances are singularly coincident. And why did the chicken prefer\nthe cat's companionship to that of its fellows?\n\n          E. W. PHIBBS.\n\n\nANOTHER PIGEON STORY.\n\n          [_Oct. 6, 1888._]\n\nMr. Ainger's letter in the _Spectator_ of September 22nd reminds me of\nan almost identical friendship that existed some years ago at Grove\nHouse, Knutsford. A long-haired mastiff was kept chained as a watch-dog,\nand when a white fantail pigeon's mate died, it attached itself to the\nmastiff, and was continually with it in the kennel. When the dog had its\nbreakfast of porridge and milk, the pigeon would eat out of the bowl at\nthe same time; and when the dog had finished, it would lie flat on its\nside while the pigeon perched on its head and pecked off the grains of\noatmeal that stuck to the long hair round its mouth. The only danger to\nthe pigeon seemed to be that when the dog rushed out of the kennel\nsuddenly to bark, it seemed to forget the pigeon, and we used to fear\nthat the heavy chain might hurt it; but it never was hurt. This\nfriendship lasted many years, till one of the two, I forget which, died.\n\n          ISABEL JAMISON.\n\n\nDOG AND KITTENS.\n\n          [_July 1, 1893._]\n\nThe following story may, perhaps, interest some of your readers:--Willie\nis a small, rough-haired terrier, a truculent and aggressive character,\nthe terror of tramps, in a skirmish with one of whom he has lost an\neye. He rules the kitchen with a rod of iron, the inmate there admiring\nand fearing him. Next to tramps, Willie hates cats; he has been flogged\nagain and again for chasing the neighbour's \"Tom\"; nothing can stop him\nrushing at the alien cat, however. But for his own domestic \"Tabby\" he\nhas tolerance and a certain amount of affection; if another dog were to\nattack her, dire would be the warfare. A while ago, this cat had three\nkittens; two were taken by the maid and placed in a bucket of water, and\nleft to their fate. Before that fate had come Willie perceived them; he\nsnatched them from the bucket one by one, and carried them to his\nkennel. The maid attempted to get them away, but Willie flew at her with\nfury, and then returned to lick first one and then the other, to shove\nthem up together, and lie down near them, and in every way to give the\npoor half-dead things a chance. This went on for some time; but when at\nlast there was no sign of breath, and he saw that they were hopelessly\ndead, he marched out of the kennel, shook himself, and indicated to the\nmaid that she might now proceed to bury them, that they were past\nintelligent treatment. He treats the remaining and living kitten with\nthe indifference of the scientific for the normal.\n\n          L. H.\n\n\nA CANINE NURSE.\n\n          [_May 18, 1895._]\n\nBeing a frequent reader of anecdotes of the sagacity of animals in your\npaper, I think you may consider the following trait of character in a\ndog worthy of notice. Jack, a rough-haired fox-terrier of quiet\ndisposition, but a good ratter, and an inveterate enemy to strange or\nneighbouring cats, of whom, to my sorrow, he has slain at least one,\nbecame without effort the attached friend of a minute kitten introduced\ninto the house last November. This friendship has been continued without\nintermission, and is reciprocated by the now full-grown cat. She,\nunfortunately, got caught in a rabbit-trap not long ago, but escaped\nwith no further injury than a lacerated paw, which for some time caused\nher much pain and annoyance. Every morning Jack was to be seen tenderly\nlicking the paw of the interesting invalid, to which kind nursing no\ndoubt her rapid recovery may be attributed; and though she is now more\nthan convalescent and able to enjoy her usual game of play, he still\ngreets her each morning with a gentle inquiring lick on the injured paw,\njust to see if it is all right, before proceeding to roll her over in\ntheir accustomed gambols. This seems to me a marked instance of\nindividual affection overcoming race-antipathy.\n\n          BLANCHE ROCHFORT.\n\n\nA CURIOUS FRIENDSHIP.\n\n          [_Feb. 6, 1875._]\n\nI have two dogs, two cats, and a kitten. Many years of experience have\nshown me, in the teeth of all proverbs, that cats and dogs, members of\nthe same household, live together quite as amicably as human beings.\n\nOnly, like human beings, they have their dislikes and preferences for\neach other. At the present time, my dog Snow is on terms of hearty\nfriendship with my grey cat Kitty, but of polite indifference with my\nblack cat Toppy.\n\nToppy, for some years back, has been subject to fits, owing, it is\nconsidered, to the lodgment of some small shot near her spine, whilst\nout trespassing (or poaching).\n\nYesterday Snow rushed into the kitchen with face so anxious and piteous\nthat my servants both exclaimed that something must have happened; gave\nsigns, as he can do, that somebody was to go with him, and was followed\ninto the drawing-room, where Toppy, left alone, had fallen under the\ngrate in a fit, and was writhing amid the ashes and embers. She was\nrescued, and beyond a little singeing, does not seem much the worse.\n\nTo reach the kitchen, Snow must have pushed open a red-baize door, which\nhe has never been known to open before, and before which he will stay\nbarking for ten minutes at a time to be let through.\n\nIf any biped, supposing himself to be endowed with reason, humanity, and\narticulate speech, tells me that Snow is a conscious automaton, can I\ngive him any other answer than, \"You're another\"?\n\n          J. M. L.\n\n\nAN ACT OF CANINE FRIENDSHIP.\n\n          [_Nov. 6, 1880._]\n\nI have read from time to time in the pages of the _Spectator_ instances\nof canine sagacity furnished by your correspondents, which have, no\ndoubt, interested many others besides myself. The following incident\noccurred last Saturday, in my walk from the beach, which, perhaps, may\namuse your readers, as it did me.\n\nMy curiosity was excited by seeing a young retriever on his hind legs\nlicking very ardently the face of a nice-looking donkey, who was\ntethered on the bank. After licking his face all over for a long time,\nhe began to frisk around him, evidently anxious to have a trot together;\nbut, finding that his friend was tied by a rope, he deliberately began\nto gnaw it, and in a very short time succeeded in setting him free! The\nowner of the donkey, who happened to be at work close by, then\ninterfered, and put a stop to their little game, or otherwise Master\nNeddy would, no doubt, have been seduced to join in a scamper. From the\nwarmth of the dog's salutes, I imagine that he and the donkey were old\nfriends.\n\n          S. RICHARDS.\n\n\nDOG AND CANARY.\n\n          [_Nov. 20, 1880._]\n\nI was much interested in the account of the friendship that existed\nbetween the young retriever and the donkey whom he released by gnawing\nthe rope. The little incident I send of another retriever may also\ninterest your readers. A friend of mine had a pet canary, while her\nbrother was the owner of a retriever that was also much petted. One day\nthe canary escaped from the house, and was seen flying about the grounds\nfor a few days, and when it perched was generally on high elm-trees. At\nlast it vanished from view, and this dear little pet was mourned for as\nlost or dead. But after the interval of another day or so, the\nretriever came in with the canary in his mouth, carrying it most\ndelicately, and went up to the owner of the bird, delivering it into her\nhands without even the feathers being injured. Surely nothing could\nillustrate more beautifully faithful love and gentleness in a dog than\nthis.\n\n          E. TILL.\n\n\nCAT-AND-DOG LOVE.\n\n          [_April 13, 1878._]\n\nWould you allow me, as a cat fancier of nearly thirty years' standing,\nto corroborate, by a personal experience, Mr. Balfour's testimony in\nyour last issue to the possibility of a genuine attachment between a cat\nand a dog? A few weeks ago, I called upon a bachelor friend who has two\npets, a handsome black female cat, of the name of Kate, and a bright\nlittle terrier, responding to the call of David. My friend assured me\nthat they lived on the most affectionate terms. They were certainly not\ndemonstrative, but they were importations from Scotland, and refrained\nfrom \"spooning\" before folk. The character of the attachment was soon\ntested. Another acquaintance entered the room, accompanied by a terrier\nof about the same size as David, although not of the same variety. This\ndog made at once for the cat, then resting in front of the fire. She\nbacked against the wall, and prepared for a fight, in which, if I may\njudge from her size, she would have been victorious. But she was saved\nthe trouble of using her claws. Before she could utter a feline\nequivalent for \"Jack Robinson,\" before the door could be closed, David\nrushed at the intruder, and literally ran him out of the room and down\ntwo flights of stairs, with a rapidity worthy of a member of the Irish\nConstabulary. By the time he returned, his Dulcinea had arranged herself\nfor another nap, but she opened one eye as her companion took his place\nby his side, and--\n\n    \"Betwixt her darkness and his brightness,\n    There passed a mutual glance of great politeness.\"\n\nI witnessed a similar scene some years ago in a country inn in the north\nof Scotland. On that occasion, one dog defended against another a\nfavourite cat and a favourite hen.\n\nSpeaking of cats, can any one say what has become of the late Pope's\nblack cat, Morello? Did he die before his master, or has some one\nadopted him? Chateaubriand, as everybody knows, adopted Micetto, the\ngrey favourite of Leo XII.\n\n          WILLIAM WALLACE.\n\n\n\n\n_CURIOUS HABITS OF DOGS._\n\n\n\n\nTHE DOG THAT BURIED THE FROGS.\n\n          [_Feb. 2, 1895._]\n\nKnowing your love of animals, and the interest so often shown in your\ncolumns in their ways, I venture to send you the following story I have\nlately heard from an eye-witness, and to ask whether you or any of your\nreaders can throw any light upon the dog's probable object. The dog in\nquestion was a Scotch terrier. He was one day observed to appear from a\ncorner of the garden carrying in his mouth, very gently and tenderly, a\nlive frog. He proceeded to lay the frog down upon a flower-bed, and at\nonce began to dig a hole in the earth, keeping one eye upon the frog to\nsee that it did not escape. If it went more than a few feet from him, he\nfetched it back, and then continued his work. Having dug the hole a\ncertain depth, he then laid the frog, still alive, at the bottom of it,\nand promptly scratched the loose earth back into the hole, and friend\nfroggy was buried alive! The dog then went off to the corner of the\ngarden, and returned with another frog, which he treated in the same\nway. This occurred on more than one occasion; in fact, as often as he\ncould find frogs he occupied himself in burying them alive. Now dogs\ngenerally have some reason for what they do. What can have been a dog's\nreason for burying frogs alive? It does not appear that he ever dug them\nup again to provide himself with a meal. If, sir, you or any of your\nreaders can throw any light on this curious, and for the frogs most\nuncomfortable, behaviour of my friend's Scotch terrier, I should be very\nmuch obliged.\n\n          R. ACLAND-TROYTE.\n\n\nAN EXPLANATION.\n\n          [_Feb. 9, 1895._]\n\nI think I can explain the puzzle of the Scotch terrier and his interment\nof the frogs, for the satisfaction of your correspondent. A friend of\nmine had once a retriever who was stung by a bee, and ever afterwards,\nwhen the dog found a bee near the ground, she stamped on it, and then\nscraped earth over it and buried it effectually--presumably to put an\nend to the danger of further stings. In like manner, another dog having\nbitten a toad, showed every sign of having found the mouthful to the\nlast degree unpleasant. Probably Mr. Acland-Troyte's dog had, in the\nsame way, bitten a toad, and conceived henceforth that he rendered\npublic service by putting every toad-like creature he saw carefully and\ngingerly \"out of harm's way,\" underground.\n\nA great number of the buryings and other odd tricks of dogs must,\nhowever, I am sure, be considered as Atavism, and traced to the\ninstincts bequeathed by their remote progenitors when yet \"wild in the\nwoods the noble _beastie_ ran.\" Such, I believe, is generally admitted\nto be the explanation of the universal habit of every dog before lying\ndown to turn round two or three times and scratch its intending\nbed--even when that bed is of the softest woollen or silk--apparently to\nascertain that no snakes or thorns lurk in its sleeping-place.\n\nA dog which I once possessed exhibited such reversion to ancestral\nhabits in a noteworthy way. She was a beautiful white Pomeranian; and\nwhen a litter of puppies was impending, on one occasion she scratched an\nenormous hole in our back-garden in South Kensington, where her leisure\nhours were passed--a hole like the burrow of a fox. It was not in the\nleast of the character of the ordinary circular punch-bowl so often\nscooped out by idle or impatient dogs, but a long, deep channel running\nat a sharp angle a considerable way underground. Obviously, it was\nYama's conviction that it was her maternal duty to provide shelter for\nher expected offspring, precisely as a fox or rabbit must feel it, and\nas we may suppose her own ancestresses did on the shores of the Baltic\nsome thousand generations ago. When the puppies were born, Yama and the\nsurvivor were established by me in a most comfortable kennel in the same\ngarden, with a day nursery and a night nursery (covered and open) for\nthe comfort and safety of the puppy. But one fine morning, when the\nlittle creature had begun to crawl over the inclosure of its small\ndomain, I happened to go into the garden while Yama was absent in the\nhouse, and discovered that my little friend was missing. The puppy had\ndisappeared altogether; and at the same time I noticed that the\nflower-bed in which Yama had made her excavation had been nicely\nsmoothed over by the gardener, who was putting the place in order. A\nsuspicion instantly seized me, and I exclaimed, \"You have buried my\npuppy!\" I ran to the spot where the hole had been made, and, having\nswept aside the gardener's spadeful of soil, found the deeper part of\nthe hole, running slanting underground, still open. I knelt down and\nthrust in my arm to its fullest stretch, and then, at the very end of\nthe hole, my fingers encountered a little soft, warm, fluffy ball. The\npuppy came out quite happy and uninjured, freshly awakened from sleep,\nhaving shown that his instinct recognised the suitability of holes in\nthe ground for the accommodation of puppies; just as the hereditary\ninstinct of his mother had led her to prepare one for him, even in a\nSouth Kensington garden!\n\n          FRANCES POWER COBBE.\n\n\nA DOG AND HIS DINNER.\n\n          [_Feb. 16, 1895._]\n\nI knew a dog in Ireland--a large retriever--who had been taught always\nto bring his own tin dish in his mouth, to be filled at the late dinner.\nFor some reason his master wished to make a change, and to feed him\ntwice a day instead of once, to which he had always been accustomed. The\ndog resented this, and when told to bring his dish, refused, and it\ncould nowhere be found; on which his master spoke angrily to him, and\nordered him to bring the dish at once. With drooping tail and sheepish\nexpression he went down the length of the garden, and began scratching\nup the soil where he had buried the bowl deep down, to avoid having to\nbring it at an hour of which he did not approve.\n\n          A LOVER OF DOGS.\n\n\nDOGS AND LOOKING-GLASSES.\n\n          [_June 23, 1894._]\n\nYou are fond of odd actions of dogs, so perhaps the following may be\nacceptable. I have two fox-terriers--young dogs--Grip and Vic. In the\nmorning, at early tea in our bedroom, Vic gets angry with Grip's\nreflection in the long glass of the wardrobe, barks at him furiously as\nhe moves about, and scratches at the glass, quite regardless of her own\nface between her and his reflection. And when he assaults her from\nbehind, to make her play with his real self, she turns round and snaps\nat him viciously, and then returns to her attack on his reflection. He\njumps upon the window-sill, and fancies he sees a squirrel in the\ngarden, and dashes past her to the door; she follows the motion of the\nreflection till she is past the edge of the glass, and loses it, when\nshe dashes back to the glass again. This has occurred several days in\nthe last week, and seems to me almost absurd. The dogs are just about a\nyear old, and so beyond puppy folly, though very lively and playful\nstill.\n\n          A. M. B.\n\n\n\n\n_THE SENSE OF HUMOUR AND CUNNING IN DOGS._\n\n\n\n\nDOGS' SENSE OF HUMOUR.\n\nTHE POWER OF IMITATION IN DOGS.\n\n          [_Oct. 22, 1882._]\n\nThe following anecdote may interest those of your readers who are\naccustomed to observe the characteristic actions of dogs. I can vouch\nfor its accuracy, as I was an amused eye-witness, and several members of\nmy family were also present, and have often told the story.\n\nA friend of ours and his wife were spending a musical evening with us,\nand an old, black, English terrier, who belonged to the house, had been\nin the drawing-room, which was upstairs. The dog had been kindly noticed\nby our friend, who was partially lame from paralysis. On leaving the\ndrawing-room the dog followed him to the top of the staircase (we, with\nhis wife, were waiting below in the hall), and with cocked tail and\nears stood gravely watching his slow, limping descent. When the invalid\nwas nearly at the foot of the stairs the dog began to follow, limping on\nthree legs (he was quite sound), in humorous imitation of our poor,\nafflicted friend, and this assumed lameness was gravely kept up till he\narrived on the mat. It was impossible to repress a smile, though our\npoliteness was at stake, and the unconsciousness of our friend added to\nthe difficulty.\n\n          A. R.\n\n\nSENSE OF HUMOUR IN DOGS.\n\n          [_July 28, 1888._]\n\nA recent anecdote from one of your correspondents about a dog and a hen\nbrought to my mind an incident, related to me by an eye-witness, of a\ndog who had a constant feud with the fowls, which were prone to pilfer\nfrom the basin containing his dinner. On one occasion he was lying in\nfront of his kennel, quietly watching a hen as she made stealthy and\ntentative approaches to his basin, which at length she reached and\nlooked into, finding it perfectly empty. The dog wagged his tail.\n\n          J. R.\n\n\nA DOG'S SENSE OF HUMOUR.\n\n          [_March 9, 1895._]\n\nDoes the following dog-story show a sense of humour? A retriever was in\nthe habit of leaving his bed in the kitchen when he heard his master\ndescending the stairs in the morning. On one occasion a new kitchen-maid\nturned him out of his bed at a much earlier hour than usual. He looked\nangrily at her, but walked out quietly. Time passed, and he was nowhere\nto be found. At last, in going to her bedroom, the kitchen-maid found\nhim coiled up in her own bed.\n\n          B. B.\n\n\nCUNNING DOGS.\n\nA DOG AND A WHIP.\n\n          [_May 18, 1889._]\n\nYou have lately published several dog stories. Allow me to send you\nanother for publication should you think it worthy. It was told me\nto-day by a lady whom I cross-examined to get full details:--\"Some\ntwenty years back we had a poodle--white, with one black ear. After the\nmanner of his race, he was never quite happy unless he carried something\nin his mouth. He was intelligent and teachable to the last degree. The\ngreat defect in his character was the impossibility of distinguishing\n_meum_ from _tuum_. Anything he could get hold of he seemed to think,\naccording to his dogged ethics, to be fairly his own. On one occasion he\nentered the room of one of the maidservants and stole her loaf of bread,\ncarefully shutting the door after him with his feet--the latter part\nbeing a feat I had taught him. The woman--Irish--was scared, and thought\nthat the dog was the devil incarnate. The necessity of discipline on\nthe one hand, and of occupation on the other, induced me one day to\nenter a saddler's shop, situated in a straight street about half a mile\nfrom our house, and buy a whip. Shortly after my return home he\ncommitted some act of petty larceny, so I gave him a beating with the\nwhip he had carried home. Going for a walk next day the dog, as usual,\naccompanied me, and was entrusted with the whip to carry. Directly we\ngot outside the door he started off at his best pace straight down the\nstreet, paying no attention whatever, to my repeated calls. He entered\nthe saddler's shop and deposited the whip on the floor. When I arrived\nthe saddler showed me the whip lying exactly where the dog had deposited\nit.\"\n\n          HENRY H. MAXWELL.\n\n\nA RUSE DOG.\n\n          [_March 21, 1885._]\n\nA story which came to my knowledge a few months ago may be of interest\nin connection with the _Spectator's_ series of anecdotes illustrating\nthe intelligence of animals.\n\nOne summer afternoon a group of children were playing at the end of a\npier which projects into Lake Ontario, near Kingston, New York, U.S.A.\nThe proverbial careless child of the party made the proverbial backward\nstep off from the pier into the water. None of his companions could save\nhim, and their cries had brought no one from the shore, when, just as he\nwas sinking for the third time, a superb Newfoundland dog rushed down\nthe pier into the water and pulled the boy out. Those of the children\nwho did not accompany the boy home took the dog to a confectioner's on\nthe shore, and fed him with as great a variety of cakes and other sweets\nas he would eat. So far the story is, of course, only typical of scores\nof well-known cases. The individuality of this case is left for the\nsequel.\n\nThe next afternoon the same group of children were playing at the same\nplace, when the canine hero of the day before came trotting down to them\nwith the most friendly wags and nods. There being no occasion this time\nfor supplying him with delicacies, the children only stroked and patted\nhim. The dog, however, had not come out of pure sociability. A child in\nthe water and cakes and candy stood to him in the close and obvious\nrelation of cause and effect, and if this relation was not clear to the\nchildren he resolved to impress it upon them. Watching his chance, he\ncrept up behind the child who was standing nearest to the edge of the\npier, gave a sudden push, which sent him into the water, then sprang in\nafter him, and gravely brought him to shore.\n\nTo those of us who have had a high respect for the disinterestedness of\ndogs, this story may give a melancholy proof that the development of the\nintelligence, at the expense of the moral nature, is by no means\nexclusively human.\n\n          CLARA FRENCH.\n\n\nDOG DECEIVERS.\n\n          [_Feb. 9, 1895._]\n\nYour fondness for dogs induces me to send you the following anecdote,\nwhich shows their power of acting a part for purposes of their own. Some\nyears ago a fox-terrier of mine was condemned by a veterinary surgeon to\nconsume a certain amount of flour of sulphur every day. He was at all\ntimes a fanciful and dainty feeder, and every conceivable ingenuity on\nmy part was exhausted in the vain endeavour to disguise the daily\nportion and to give it a more tempting appearance. Each new device was\ninvariably detected. However hungry he might be he turned from the\nproffered morsel in disgust, and it ended almost invariably in my having\nto put it down his throat. One morning, after keeping him for many hours\nwithout food, and having neatly wrapped the powder in a most appetising\npiece of raw meat, I offered it him in the vain hope that hunger might\nprevail over prejudice. But no. With averted head and downcast look he\nsteadily and determinedly declined to partake of it. I encouraged him in\nvain. Deep dejection on his part; despair, but persistence, on mine. All\nof a sudden his whole manner changed. He assumed a brisk and cheerful\ndemeanour, joyfully accepted the hitherto rejected offering, and running\nmerrily through the open door, disappeared swiftly a few yards off round\nthe corner of the building. Inside the room I ran as quickly to a\nwindow, whence I could view his proceedings, and there watched him while\nhe deposited the hated morsel on the ground, dug a hole in the\nflower-bed, and buried it. His jaunty, triumphant air as he returned I\nshall never forget.\n\n          F. E. WYNNE.\n\n\n\n\n_USEFUL DOGS._\n\n\n\n\nGUARDIAN DOGS.\n\n          [_July 15, 1892._]\n\nHaving read for years your interesting letters and articles on animals\nin the _Spectator_, I feel sure you will like to have a thoroughly\nauthentic account of a dog in this neighbourhood. I am allowed to give\nthe name of the owner, who is living at Lyme Regis, where I was staying\nlast week. The two incidents happened within a few weeks of each other.\n\nMrs. and Miss Coode were alone in their house (except the servants); and\none night Miss Coode was awakened by hearing two knocks at her door and\na slight whine. It was between three and four o'clock in the morning.\nShe rose and opened the door to find the dog there, and at the same time\nnoticed and heard a stream of water running down the stairs. She went up\nthe staircase to its source, and aroused the servants to attend to it.\nAs soon as the dog saw that the matter was being remedied, he quietly\nwent back to the mat in the hall and went to sleep again. The dog is a\nlarge one, a cross between a retriever and a greyhound--a very beautiful\ncreature, resembling a poacher's lurcher.\n\nThe second incident occurred only last week, when Miss Coode was again\naroused. This time by a loud crash, as if a picture had fallen. Almost\nimmediately the dog bounded upstairs, threw himself against the door,\nwhich happened to be ajar, burst into the room, panting and eyes\nglistening,--this, at least, Miss Coode saw as soon as she struck a\nlight, for it was between twelve and one o'clock. She went out on to the\nstaircase and downstairs to look at the pictures in the drawing-room.\nThe dog would not follow. The cook, coming down from her room, called\nhim a coward not to go with his mistress, but Sheppard did not move.\nMiss Coode found all safe below, and returned upstairs, and the dog went\nwith her to the top floor, where the ceiling of a small room had fallen\nin. He then retired to his mat, having done his duty. He also showed his\nsagacity in going to the daughter's room--the one most capable of seeing\nto matters. Hoping, as a dog-lover, that this may interest all such, and\nhelp to prove that dogs think and reason more than some human\nbeings--also to show that we often inferior beings have no right to\npresuppose that the superior animals have no souls.\n\n          K. CLARKE.\n\n\nA TRUE WATCH-DOG.\n\n          [_Aug. 5, 1893._]\n\nThe \"dog\" letter in the _Spectator_ of July 15th is wonderfully like my\nexperience, some years ago, with my little red Blenheim, Frisk. She\nalways slept in a basket, close to the hall door. One night she dashed\nup the stairs, loudly barking, ran first to my eldest sister's room,\nthen through a swing-door to another sister's room, barking outside each\ndoor, then upstairs again to my room at the top of the house, where she\nremained barking till I got up and opened it, when she ran in, still\nbarking, and waited till I was ready to go down with her. She scampered\non before me, I following close, and when we both reached the hall she\ndashed still barking to the door, to show me whence her alarm had\narisen. It was the policeman turning the handle of the door from the\noutside to see if it was properly closed! One night, a long time after\nthe first adventure, I was wakened by a quiet scratch at the door of my\nroom. No barking this time; but, tiresome as it was to be disturbed on a\ncold night, I got up and opened the door, and was conscious in the\ndarkness that Frisk was standing there. \"Come in, Frisk,\" said I. But no\nmovement; Frisk stood waiting. \"Come in, Frisk,\" I repeated, somewhat\nsharply. No movement, no bark! Then, being sure that something must be\nwrong, I lighted a candle, and there stood Frisk outside the door, never\noffering to come in. She trotted quietly down before me, not speaking a\nword. When we were both through the swing-door, and at the head of the\nstairs, I saw that the inner door to the hall was open, and also that\nof the morning-room, from which shone a bright light. My heart went\npit-a-pat for a moment; then seeing Frisk run quietly down the stairs, I\nfollowed her, when she calmly jumped into her basket again, and I,\nventuring into the morning-room, found that my brother-in-law had left\nthe lamp burning by mistake--a proceeding which Frisk plainly knew was\nwrong, and had therefore come upstairs to inform me, but had not thought\nit necessary to disturb the rest of the household this time! She had\ncome straight up to my room without disturbing any one else, to tell me\nof the irregularity of a light burning when every one was in bed, and\nthat being done, jumped into bed again, conscious of having performed\nher duty.\n\n          GEORGINA A. MARSH-CALDWELL.\n\n\n          [_Aug. 12, 1893._]\n\nI can give an instance as convincing as that of Miss Marsh-Caldwell of\nthe way in which a true watch-dog will measure the extent of his\nduties. I lived for many years opposite a wood, in which the game at\nfirst was preserved. I had a dog named Prin, who had begun by being a\ngardener's dog, but having caught the distemper and been unskilfully\ntreated by his master he remained nearly blind, and was left on my hands\nby the man when he quitted my service. The dog was a great coward, but\ngood-tempered and affectionate, and the partial loss of sight seemed to\nhave developed greatly the senses both of hearing and smell, so that he\nwas recognised as a capital watch-dog. He was promoted to the kitchen,\nand would have been promoted to the drawing-room but for the\nobstreperousness of his affection, which seemed to know no bounds if he\nwas admitted even into the hall. I slept at that time in a room over the\nkitchen, fronting the road. One night I was awakened by Prin growling,\nand, after a time, giving a snappish bark underneath me. I got out of\nbed and throwing up the sash, listened at the window, where, after a\ntime, I heard slight noises, which convinced me that some one or more\npersons were hiding in the shrubbery between the house and the road,\nwhom I supposed to be burglars. I called out, \"Who's there?\" without, of\ncourse, eliciting any answer, and, after a time, I heard the click of\nthe further gate (there being two, one opposite my house, the other\nopposite its semi-detached neighbour, and out of my sight), after which\nall was quiet. But I had noticed that from the moment of my getting out\nof bed Prin had not uttered a sound. The same thing happened seven or\neight times, and always in the same way, Prin growling or barking till\nhe heard me get out of bed, and then holding his tongue, as feeling that\nhe had fulfilled his duty in warning his master, and that all\nresponsibility now devolved upon me. The secret of the matter I\ndiscovered to be that poachers, with no burglarious intentions towards\nme, used the shrubbery as a hiding-place before getting over the\nopposite paling into the wood.\n\nOne other instance of Prin's sagacity I will also mention. I had a black\ncat, with white breast, named Toffy, between whom and Prin there was\npeace, though not affection. There was also another black cat, with\nwhite breast, that prowled about, an outlaw cat, who made free with my\nchickens when he could! It was a bitter winter, and the snow had lain\nalready for days on the ground. I was walking one Sunday morning in my\ngarden, Prin being out with me. He quitted me to go under a laurel-hedge\nbounding a shrubbery, and presently began barking loudly. I went towards\nhim, and saw a white-breasted cat sitting stretched under the laurels,\nwith front paws doubled under him, which I took to be Toffy asleep. I\nscolded Prin for disturbing Toffy, and he stopped barking, but remained\non the spot whilst I continued my walk. Presently--say two or three\nminutes after--I heard him barking still more loudly than before, and so\npersistently that I returned to the spot. Noticing that the cat had\nnever moved through all the noise, I crept up under the bushes, and\nfound that it was not Toffy asleep, but the outlaw cat, dead--evidently\nof cold. Thus my poor purblind watch-dog had--(1) barked to draw my\nattention to what appeared to him an unusual phenomenon; (2), held his\ntongue in deference to my (supposed) superior wisdom, when I told him he\nwas making a mistake; (3), not being, however, satisfied in his mind,\nremained to investigate till he was convinced he had not been mistaken;\n(4), called my attention to the facts still more instantly till I was\nsatisfied of them for myself. Could _homo sapiens_ have done more?\n\n          J. M. L.\n\n\n          [_Aug. 12, 1893._]\n\nI am reminded by the anecdote related in the _Spectator_ of July 15th,\n\"A Canine Guardian,\" of the sagacity of a favourite Scotch terrier which\nwas displayed some years ago. I was dressing one morning, and my\nbedroom-door was ajar. Standing at my dressing-table, I was surprised to\nsee Fan come up to me, frisking about, and looking eagerly into my face,\nwhether from pleasure or not I could not tell. I spoke to and stroked\nher, but she was in no way soothed, and she ran out of the room\nevidently much excited. In she came again, more earnestly trying to tell\nme what she wanted, rushing up to me and again to the door, plainly\nbegging me to follow her, which I did, into the next room, where\nbreakfast was laid. I at once saw what she had easily felt was out of\norder--the kettle was boiling over, and the water pouring from the spout\nhad drenched the hearth. Hence her discomfort, and her effort to tell me\nof the disaster. Having brought me on the scene, she seemed perfectly\ncontent.\n\n          C. A. T.\n\n\n          [_Aug. 12, 1893._]\n\nNot long ago I was passing a barn-yard in this place, and stood to look\nover the gate at a pretty half-grown lamb standing alone outside the\nbarn. But the sight of me so enraged a fierce, shaggy grey dog tied up\nto his kennel between the lamb and me, that he barked himself nearly\ninto fits, showing all his teeth, and straining so furiously at his\nchain as to make me quite nervous lest it should give way. In the\nmeantime, I struck such terror into the heart of the lamb that it fled\nacross the yard to place itself under the protection of the dog, and\nstood close by his side, whilst he barked and danced with fury. As I\ndrew a little nearer, the lamb backed right into the kennel, and when,\nafter I had made a circuit in order to watch the further movements of\nthis strange pair of friends from behind a tree, I saw their two faces\ncautiously looking out together, cheek-by-jowl, whilst the dog's anger\nwas being reduced to subsiding splutters of resentment. He was not a\ncollie, but a very large sort of poodle.\n\n          C. S.\n\n\nCOLLIES AT WORK.\n\n          [_March 25, 1893._]\n\nAt six o'clock this morning, I saw a mountain-shepherd stand at a gate\non the hill-top. Seven sheep were on the outside of the gate--six of the\nshepherd's flock, the other a strayer. The man wanted his own sheep in;\nso, before opening the gate, he quietly said: \"'Rob,' catch the\nstrayer.\" In an instant \"Rob\" pinned the sheep, holding him, strong and\nwild as he was, as though he were in a vice; and then, by another word,\n\"Gled\" was told to bring the others in through the gate now opened for\nthem. Although \"Gled\" brought his six wild sheep right over \"Rob\" and\nhis strayer, the sheep was held securely till the gate was closed, and\nthe order given to \"let it gang.\"\n\n          WILLIAM FOTHERGILL.\n\n\nA COLLIE AT WORK.\n\n          [_Aug. 11, 1894._]\n\nWe stood at the bottom of a deep valley with the hills rising abruptly\non either side, when Robert Scott said: \"Yonder is the sheep I led away\nfrom Llangynider, all those weary miles yesterday. I saw it as I came\nover the hill-top down to the house this morning. If you wish, \"Kate\"\nshall bring it down to my feet here for you to see it.\" \"What?--bring\nthat single sheep! How will she know the one you want, and how can she\nget it away from the flock by itself? I will not believe that possible\ntill I see it done, at all events.\"\n\nHe spoke a low word or two to the collie by his side, and away went\n\"Kate\" right up over rock and bracken, till we could see the flock far\naway upon the height above give a very rapid turn, and in a few minutes\nafterwards, down rushed a strong mountain wether with the wily \"Kate\"\nworking to the right and left about thirty yards behind it. \"Come away,\nback 'ahint me,\" cried Scott; and \"Kate,\" at once leaving the sheep,\nappeared positively to fly far out, and coming round behind us, stopped\nthe wether in his headlong course, bringing him to a stand literally at\nthe shepherd's feet. \"Robert,\" I said, \"when (as you intend) you sail\nnext month for New Zealand, you will not take 'Kate' with you, but leave\nher here for seven sovereigns.\" \"Nae, nae, sir,\" was the reply, \"seventy\nsovereigns would nae buy her.\"\n\n          W. FOTHERGILL.\n\n\n\n\n_MISCELLANEOUS._\n\n\n\n\nA SUNDAY DOG.\n\n          [_Feb. 17, 1877._]\n\nA correspondent favoured your readers last week (see page 53) with an\ninteresting anecdote of a dog's intelligence in reference to the use of\nmoney. Permit me to relate an instance of a dog's intelligence in\nreference to the day of the week. Some three-and-twenty years ago, in\nthe infancy of the Canterbury Province, New Zealand, there lived in the\nsame neighbourhood as myself two young men, in the rough but independent\nmode of life then prevalent in the colony, somewhat oblivious of old\ninstitutions. These men possessed a dog each, affectionate companions of\ntheir solitude. It was the custom of this primitive establishment to\nutilise the Sabbath by a ramble, in quest of wild ducks and wild pigs,\nabout the swamps and creeks of the district. It was observed that long\nbefore any preparations were made for starting, the dogs always seemed\nto be more or less excited. This was remarkable enough, but not so much\nas what followed. One of these men after a while left his friend, and\ntaking his dog with him, went to live with a clergyman about four miles\noff. Here ducks and pigs had to be given up on Sundays for the\nchurch-service. It was soon noticed that this dog used to vanish betimes\non Sundays, and did not turn up again until late. Upon inquiring, it was\nfound that the dog had visited its old abode, where on that day of the\nweek sport was not forbidden. The owner tried the plan of chaining up\nthe animal on Saturday evenings, but it soon became very cunning, and\nwould get away whenever it had the chance. On one occasion it was\ntemporarily fastened to a fence-rail about mid-day on a Saturday. By\nrepeated jerks it loosened the rail from the mortice-holes, and dragged\nit away. Upon search being made, this resolute but unfortunate dog was\nfound drowned, still fast to the chain and rail, in a stream about two\nmiles away in the direction of its old haunts. The gentleman who owned\nthe other dog is in England now, and went over the details of the facts\nherein stated with me quite recently.\n\n          ALFRED DURELL.\n\n\nA COW'S JEALOUSY OF A DOG.\n\n          [_April 30, 1892._]\n\nAs a subscriber to and constant reader of the _Spectator_, I have\nderived much pleasure from the anecdotes of animal instinct, sagacity,\nand emotion, which from time to time have appeared in your columns.\nPerhaps you may like to publish the following instance of jealousy in a\ncow; it is, at any rate, a story at first-hand, as I myself was an actor\nin the affair.\n\nA few years ago, I had a quiet milch-cow, Rose, who certainly was fond\nof Thomas, the man who milked her regularly, and she also showed an\naversion to dogs even greater than is usual in her species. One night,\nfor what reason I now forget, I had tied up a young collie dog in the\nlittle cowshed where she was accustomed to be milked. The following\nmorning, I had just begun to dress, when I heard the puppy barking in\nthe cowshed. \"Oh!\" thought I, \"I forgot to tell Thomas about the puppy,\nand now the cow will get in first and gore it.\" The next minute I heard\na roar of unmistakable fear and anguish--a human roar. I dashed down to\nthe spot, and at the same moment arrived my son, pitchfork in hand.\nThere lay Thomas on his face in a dry gutter by the side of the road to\nthe cowhouse, and the cow butting angrily at him. We drove off the cow,\nand poor Thomas scuffled across the road, slipped through a wire fence,\nstood up and drew breath. \"Why, Thomas,\" said I, \"what's the matter with\nRose?\" \"Well, sir,\" said Thomas, \"I heard the pup bark and untied him,\nand I was just coming out of the cowhouse, with the pup in my arms, when\n'Rose' came round the corner. As soon as she see'd the pup in my arms,\nshe rushed at me without more ado, knocked me down, and would have\nkilled me if you hadn't come up.\" Thomas had indeed had a narrow escape;\nhis trousers were ripped up from end to end, and red marks all along his\nlegs showed where Rose's horns had grazed along them. \"Well,\" said I,\n\"you'd better not milk her this morning, since she's in such a fury.\"\n\"Oh! I'll milk her right enough, sir, by and by; just give her a little\ntime to settle down like. It's only jealousy of that 'ere pup, sir. She\ncouldn't abide seeing me a-fondling of it.\" \"Well, as you like,\" said I;\n\"only take care, and mind what you're about.\" \"All right, sir!\"\n\nIn about twenty minutes, Thomas called me down to see the milk. The cow\nhad stood quiet enough to be milked. But the milk was deeply tinged with\nblood, and in half an hour a copious red precipitate had settled to the\nbottom of the pail. Till then I had doubted the jealousy theory. After\nthat I believed.\n\n          C. HUNTER BROWN.\n\n\nAN AUSTRALIAN DOG-STORY.\n\n          [_May 11, 1895._]\n\nSeeing the great interest which many of your readers take in the study\nof canine character and intelligence, I think perhaps the following\nincident is worth recording. Whilst walking with a lady friend along\nStudley Park Road, Kew (a residential suburb of Melbourne), on a very\nquiet afternoon some time ago, we were surprised by a large St. Bernard\ndog, which came up to us and deliberately pawed my leg several times.\nOur perplexity at his extraordinary behaviour was perhaps not unmixed\nwith a little misgiving, for he was an animal of formidable size and\nstrength; but as he gave evident signs of satisfaction at our noticing\nhim, and proceeded to trot on in front--at intervals looking round to\nmake sure we were following--we became interested. When we had followed\nhim about forty yards, he stopped before a door in a high garden wall,\nand, looking round anxiously to see that we were noticing, reached up\nhis paw in the direction of the latch. On stretching forth my hand to\nunfasten the door, his extreme pleasure was exhibited in a most\nunmistakable manner; but when he saw me try in vain to open it, he\nbecame quiet, and looked at me with an expression so manifestly anxious\nthat I could no more have left the poor animal thus than I could have\nleft a helpless little child in a similar position. With eager attention\nand expectancy he listened while I knocked, and when at last some one\nwas heard coming down the garden path, he bounded about with every sign\nof unlimited joy.\n\nNow here was one of the so-called \"brutes,\" which, failing to get in at\na certain door, cast about for a way out of the difficulty, and seeing\nus some distance down the road (we were the only persons in sight at the\ntime), he had come to us, attracted our attention, taken us to the door,\nand told us he wanted it opened. We both agreed that the animal had all\nthrough shown a play of emotion and intelligence comparable to that of\na human being; and, indeed, we felt so much akin to the noble creature\nthat we have both, since then, been very loath to class dogs as\n\"inferior animals.\"\n\n          GEORGE EASTGATE.\n\n\nTWO ANECDOTES OF DOGS.\n\n          [_Feb. 2, 1895._]\n\nHaving derived much pleasure from reading the frequent natural history\nnotes which from time to time appear in the _Spectator_, I venture to\nsend you two instances of what seems to me the working of the canine\nmind under quite different circumstances. The first refers to an\nincident which happened a great many years ago. It was this. One day,\nwhen a lad, I was walking with my father accompanied by a strong,\nsmooth-haired retriever called Turk. We were joined by the bailiff of\nthe farm, and in the course of our walk Turk suddenly discovered the\npresence of a rabbit concealed in what in Scotland is called a\n\"dry-stane dyke.\" After a little trouble in removing some stones, poor\nbunny was caught and slaughtered, being handed to the bailiff, who put\nit in his coat pocket. Shortly afterwards we separated, the bailiff\ngoing to his home in one direction, and we to ours in an opposite one.\nBefore we reached home we noticed that Turk was no longer with us, at\nwhich we were rather surprised, as he was a very faithful follower. Some\ntime after we got home, perhaps an hour, I chanced to see a strange\nobject on the public road which puzzled me as to what it was. It raised\na cloud of dust as it came along, which partly obscured the vision. What\nwas my surprise when I found it was Turk dragging a man's\nshooting-jacket, which proved to be the bailiff's, with the rabbit still\nin the pocket. We afterwards learnt that the dog, to the surprise of the\nbailiff, quietly followed him home, and lay down near him. Presently the\nman took off his coat, and laid it on a chair. Instantly Turk pounced\nupon it, and dashed to the door with it in his mouth. He was pursued,\nbut in vain, and succeeded in dragging the coat from the one house to\nthe other, a distance of one mile and three-fourths. It was evident the\ndog had a strong sense of the rights of property. He believed the rabbit\nbelonged to his master, so he set himself to recover what he thought\nstolen goods.\n\nThe other anecdote refers to quite a recent date, and the only interest\nit has, is that it shows how perfectly a dog can exhibit facial\nexpression, and also read at a glance the slightest indications of\nfeeling in the human face. I had a well-broken Irish setter, which was\nperfectly free of hare or rabbit as to chasing, but he was a sad rascal\nfor all that. I also had at the time a rough Scotch terrier, and the two\ndogs were great chums. The moment they got the chance they were off\ntogether on a rabbit-hunt. Like idiots, they would spend hours in vainly\ntrying to dig rabbits out of their burrows. One day as I was returning\nhome I met the pair in the avenue. They were the very picture of\nhappiness. At first they did not see me, and came joyously on at a trot.\nThe instant they observed me they came to a full stop, some forty yards\noff. The setter gently wagged his tail, and looked at me with an\nexpression of anxious inquiry. Taking heart, he slowly advanced to\nwithin about thirty yards, and then came the varying play of feature\nwhich so interested me. He was in great doubt as to whether I had\nguessed what tricks he had been up to; but as I made no sign, he was\ngradually looking more comfortable and gaining confidence. Suddenly I\nnoticed a patch of mud above his nose, and I must have unconsciously\nshown him I had made a discovery of some kind, for that instant he\nturned tail and bolted home at the utmost speed of which he was capable.\nWithout uttering a single word, or making a single gesture, the dog and\nman understood each other perfectly. It was the language of faces.\n\n          R. SCOT SKIRVING.\n\n\nA DOG OBEYING A SUMMONS\n\n          [_Jan. 18, 1890._]\n\nThe enclosed may interest you. I received it this morning. I have no\ndoubt Dr. Barford, of Wokingham, would verify it, but I have not the\npleasure of his acquaintance. The following is the story:--\n\n\"Dr. Barford's dog at Wokingham was put into a muzzle; he objected to\nit, took it off, and hid it somewhere, no one knows where. Policeman saw\nhim; summoned Dr. B.; case was to come off one Saturday. The children\ntold dog how wicked _he'd_ been: Dr. B. would have to appear at the\nCourt, and he too, as it was his doing; he'd lost the muzzle. Case was\npostponed (I think policeman witness had influenza). Dr. B. was told of\npostponement by letter; forgot to tell children or dog. At Saturday's\nBench, Magistrates much astonished by the dog appearing in Court and\nsitting solemnly opposite them.\"\n\n          ALYS M. WOOD.\n\n\nA PUG'S INTELLIGENCE.\n\n          [_Feb. 1, 1890._]\n\nSeveral newspaper cuttings have been sent to me with the story of my dog\nwhich appeared in the _Spectator_ of January 18th, and one or two of\nthem suggest a doubt as to the veracity of the story. I write,\ntherefore, to tell you that it is literally true, only that the\npoliceman was away for his holiday instead of having influenza, and the\ncase came off on Tuesday instead of Saturday. My dog is a pug, a very\nchoice specimen of his kind, and was given to me by the late Dr. Wakley,\neditor of the _Lancet_, who was a great connoisseur in dogs. His\nintelligence is really marvellous, and he has done many things as\nextraordinary as the one related by Miss Wood.\n\nHe is devotedly attached to my baby, and always accompanies me in my\nmorning visit to the nursery. On one occasion the child (who is just as\nfond of him as he is of her) was very ill, and for three weeks was\nunconscious. As soon as this was the case, the dog ceased to go near\nthe nursery, as if by instinct he knew he would not be noticed. Mr.\nWalters from Reading was attending the baby, and the dog soon got to\nknow the time he paid his visits. He would watch him upstairs, and when\nhe came down listen most attentively to his report. At length the child\nwas pronounced out of danger. The very next morning, up went master Sam,\nmade his way straight to the child's cot, and stood on his hind legs to\nbe caressed. Although she had taken no notice of any one for some time,\nshe seemed to know the dog, and tried to move her hand towards him to be\nlicked. He quite understood the action, licked the little hand lovingly,\nand then trotted contentedly away. After this he went up to see her\nregularly, as he had been accustomed to do. He is quite a character in\nthe town, and nearly every one knows Sammy Weller.\n\nBefore I had this dog, I always thought I understood the difference\nbetween reason and instinct, but his intelligence has quite puzzled me.\n\n          MARY H. BARFORD.\n\n\nARE DOGS \"COLOUR-BLIND\"?\n\n          [_Jan. 12, 1884._]\n\nYour correspondent, \"W. H. O'Shea,\" has found several dogs\n\"colour-blind,\" If black is a colour, I can give several instances in\nwhich a black retriever dog of mine was certainly _not_ \"colour-blind.\"\nHe had the greatest antipathy to sweeps and coalheavers, and would fly\nat them if not fastened up or carefully watched. He would even bark at a\npassing hearse! In all other respects, he was the best-tempered dog in\nthe world, and I can only imagine that when very young he must have been\nill-used by either a sweep or a coalheaver.\n\n          C. R. T.\n\n\nLUCKY AND UNLUCKY.\n\n          [_April 28, 1877._]\n\nAs letters telling of dogs and their doings occasionally appear in the\n_Spectator_, perhaps the following rather pathetic anecdote of a dog I\nknow well may also find a place there. Two or three weeks ago, Lucky--so\ncalled from having, when an outcast, found its present happy\nhome--perhaps by way of showing its gratitude to its benefactors,\npresented them with five small Luckys, or rather, with one exception,\nUnluckys, as the melancholy process always resorted to with these\ntoo-blooming families had to be carried out in this instance, and the\nfive were reduced to one. Poor Lucky was inconsolable, looking\neverywhere for them, and looking, too, with such appealing eyes into the\nfaces of her friends, and asking them so plainly where they were. Near\nher kennel was an inclosed piece of ground for pigeons, and as it was\ndiscovered that rats were carrying off the young pigeons, and as Lucky\nhad carried off one or two rats, it was decided one night to leave the\ndoor of the pigeons' house open, that Lucky might have the run of it;\nand the next morning, side by side with the puppy, was found a baby\npigeon, looking quite bright and at home, but hungry, and poor Lucky,\nproud of the addition it had made to its family, was looking more\ncontented than it had done since the loss of its puppies. The pigeon\nmust have fallen from its nest, some distance from the ground, and\nLucky, while on the look-out for rats, must have found it, and carefully\ncarried it to her kennel, with the vague feeling, perhaps, that it was\none of her own lost little ones \"developing\" a little curiously.\nUnfortunately the arrangement could not be a permanent one, and the\nfamished little pigeon was put back into its own nest, to be found again\nthe next morning in Lucky's bed, but this time dead. The old birds seem\nto have deserted it, and it had died of starvation. If Lucky could give\nthis account herself, it might be much more interesting, for it was\nthought not at all improbable that she had actually rescued from a rat\nthe bird she was so anxious to adopt, as a small wound was found upon\nit such as a rat might have made, and as a young pigeon had been taken\nthe night before from the same nest; but this is only conjecture, and\nLucky only could tell us the facts; how often it would be interesting,\nif our humble friends could tell us their adventures! A friend who is\nstaying with me tells me that a few months ago her dog was lost for a\nweek, and at the end of that time it came back one night in a scarlet\nruff and spangles, and looking altogether dreadfully dissipated.\nEvidently it had been the \"performing dog\" in some show, \"Punch and\nJudy\" perhaps; being naturally a clever dog, it would quickly have\nlearnt the part of \"Toby\" in that delightful and time-honoured\nexhibition. If it could only have written also an article entitled \"A\nWeek of My Life,\" with what pleasure the _Spectator_ would have\npublished it!\n\n          S.\n\n\nTHE COURAGE OF ANIMALS.\n\n          [_Feb. 11, 1893._]\n\nIn the _Spectator_ of December 31st, which, although a regular\nsubscriber to your valuable paper, I only happened to see to-day, owing\nto absence from home, I notice a reference in the article entitled \"The\nCourage of Animals,\" to the fact that the wild dogs of India attack and\ndestroy tigers. I have no personal knowledge of the matter, but I have\nbeen told by an Indian officer that the _modus operandi_ of the \"red\ndogs\" is as follows:--Having found their tiger they proceed, not to\nattack him at once, as might be inferred from your article, but to\nstarve him until they have materially reduced his strength. Night and\nday they form a cordon round the unfortunate beast, and allow him no\nchance of obtaining food or rest; every time the tiger essays to break\nthe circle, this is widened as the pack flies before him, only to be\nrelentlessly narrowed again when the quarry is exhausted. After a\ncertain period of this treatment the tiger falls a comparatively easy\nprey to his active and persevering enemies. This theory of their plan of\nattack, while it may detract somewhat from the wild dogs' reputation for\ncourage, must add considerably to our estimate of their intelligence.\n\n          EDWARD PAUL, Jun.\n\n\nSOME FACTS OF MATERNAL INSTINCT IN ANIMALS.\n\n          [_Oct. 1, 1892._]\n\nI lately met some friends who had with them a little dog, called Vic,\nwho had adopted the family of a cat in the house, and, while in\npossession, would not let the mother come near her kittens. The kittens\nwere kept in a very tall basket, and Vic would take them in her mouth,\nand jump out with them one by one, and then carry them into the garden\nand watch over them, carrying them back in the same way after a time; at\nother times, lying contentedly with them in the basket. Of course Vic\nhad to be forcibly removed when the adopted family required their\nmother's attention for their sustenance. I also have met a friend who\nsaw a hen-hawk, who was in a cage, mothering a young starling. Three\nyoung, unfledged starlings were given the hawk to eat. She ate two, and\nthen broodled the other, and took the utmost care of it. Unhappily, the\nyoung starling died; and from that moment the hawk would touch no food,\nbut died herself in a few days.\n\nThe same friend was on a mountain one day, when a sheep came up to him,\nand unmistakably begged him to follow her going just in front, and\ncontinually looking round to see if he was following. The sheep led him\nat last to some rocks, where he found a lamb fast wedged in between two\npieces of rock. He was able to liberate the lamb, to the evident joy of\nthe mother.\n\nI myself once saw a cat \"broodling\" and taking care of a very small\nchicken, which, being hatched first of a brood, had been brought into a\ncottage and placed in a basket near the fire. It managed to get out of\nthe basket, and hopped up to the cat, who immediately adopted it.\n\n          WM. WALSHAM WAKEFIELD.\n\n\nHAVE ANIMALS A FOREKNOWLEDGE OF DEATH?\n\n          [_April 30, 1892._]\n\nIn a recent _Spectator_ there is a quotation from Pierre Loti to the\neffect that \"animals not only fear death, but fear it the more because\nthey are aware that they have no future.\" Pierre Loti is a brilliant\nnovelist, but I am not aware that he is a scientific naturalist, and I\ntrust his idea is a mere chimera. Loti would take from the brutes the\none privilege for which men may envy them, and endows them with a\nknowledge of the aftertime that we have only by revelation. However, two\ncommon-sense naturalists have published their belief that the lower\nanimals have a foreknowledge of death, and one of them goes so far as to\ngive an account of an old horse committing suicide. He says the animal\nfrequently suffered from some internal disease, and that it deliberately\nwalked into a pond, and, putting its nostrils under water, stood thus\ntill it dropped dead from suffocation. The incident, I think, is easily\nexplained. Many horses drink in the manner described, and in old horses\nheart-disease is not uncommon. I imagine the stoppage of respiration\ncaused a sudden and natural death from heart-disease.\n\nI should like to ask naturalists who think animals know that they must\ndie, where they draw the line. They must stop somewhere between a dog\nand a dormouse. Poets have made far more frequent allusion to the\nsubject than naturalists, and they may be quoted on both sides. Philip\nJames Bailey, in illustration of his contention that hope is universal,\nsays: \"and the poor hack that sinks down on the flints, upon whose eye\nthe dust is settling, he hopes to die.\" But we have on the other hand\nShelley's Skylark, with its \"ignorance of pain,\" because it differs from\nmen who \"look before and after.\" Wordsworth's little girl of eight knew\nless than her dog, if she had one, for, says the poet, \"what could she\nknow of death?\" I admit that when the carnivora have crushed their prey\nto death they cease to mangle them; but I fancy that is only because\nthere is no more resistance; and a bull will trample on a hat and leave\nit when it becomes a shapeless mass. The nearest thing I ever saw to an\napparent foreknowledge of death, was in the case of that least\nintelligent of dogs, a greyhound. I had to shoot it to prevent useless\nsuffering from disease. It followed me willingly, but when I led it to a\npit prepared as its grave it instantly rushed off at its best speed. I\nsuggest that it saw instinctively something unpleasant was about to\nhappen, but it does not follow that death was present to its mind.\nDomestic poultry will furiously attack one of their number that\nstruggles on the ground in its death-agony. They do not dream of death;\nthey think its contortions are a challenge to combat.\n\n          R. SCOTT SKIRVING.\n\n\nOUR FOUR-FOOTED FRIENDS, BIG AND LITTLE.\n\n          [_Nov. 8, 1873._]\n\nMay I be permitted to question, in the most friendly way, the assumption\nof \"Lucy Field,\" in your last issue, that the lives of small dogs are in\nconstant jeopardy from \"a race of giant dogs, and exceptionally large\ndogs,\" at Muswell Hill? If it be so, then, surely the \"giant dogs\" of\nthat region are exceptions. My experience goes to confirm the truth\ntaught by Sir Edwin Landseer's \"Dignity and Impudence,\" a fine print of\nwhich adorns my portfolio. I had a broken-haired friend, weight about\neight pounds, learned in two languages, canine and English, who rejoiced\nin the name of Teens, given him by babes with whom he condescended to\nplay, because he was a \"tiny, teeny dog.\" I must confess that my late\nfriend--alas! that I should say late--who was chivalrically brave in\nkilling rats and carrying on war with cats, was a very bully, a kind of\nAncient Pistol towards big dogs. To see him meet a Newfoundland or\nlarge retriever was as good as a play. Teens, with his tail curled like\nthe spring of an ancient watch, his broken-haired back stiffened with\nindignation, would stand and give the pass-word all dogs seem to know,\nand be overhauled and examined as he walked round the giant like an\nEnglish gunboat by a Spanish fifth-rate; but when once the enemy turned\nhis back, Teens exploded like a cracker, running under the big dog's\nnose, and often springing at his lip. His gigantic, but generous foe (or\nfriend) always fled, or walked away, followed by a torrent of abusive\nbarks, which, from their peculiar intonation, I took for dog-slang, and\nTeens returning with an impudent smile on his countenance, wiped his\nfeet on the pavement as a sign of triumph. I have seen him do this a\nhundred times, and never saw a big dog attempt to punish his impudence.\nJeems, a black-and-tan of smaller weight, who seemed to walk upon\nsprings, and who on work-a-days was called Jim, and James on Sundays,\nwhich day he perfectly well knew, was more like Parolles. He bullied\nbig dogs at a distance, and seldom stood up to them like the truculent\nTeens, and, although he ran away, was seldom pursued and never hurt,\nwhile the Claimant (he was for his size unwieldly in fatness as a pup),\nwho (or which) still lives with me, is now bullying a shambling\nretriever pup, full-grown, but, like Cousin Feenix, uncertain as to his\ngait, who good-naturedly submits to it. Here, perhaps, there is danger;\nfor very big pups will pursue any little thing that runs away, and one\nof their large paws, which they put down as if they wore heavily clumped\nboots, might certainly crush the life--a very noisy, fussy, busy life it\nis--out of my small and impertinent, pretentious Tichborne. This dog, by\nthe way, brings down his mistress her boots, as a hint for her to take a\nwalk, and blows like a trumpet or young walrus under the door to be let\nin, having been corrected for scratching the panel. I end as I began, by\nassuring you that my experience, no less than that of my friends, lies\nin the direction of extreme generosity exhibited by large dogs towards\nsmall ones; I would not deny that a large dog may now and then punish an\nimpudent and aggressive toy-terrier, but, as a rule, we can only wonder\nat the providential wisdom which makes them so generous and forbearing;\nhaving a giant's strength, they seldom indeed use it like a giant.\n\n          HAIN FRISWELL.\n\n\nDOG CONSCIOUSNESS.\n\n          [_Nov. 2, 1872._]\n\nOur terrier Crib took upon himself yesterday to add his testimony to\nyour view of \"dog-consciousness,\" as expressed in the _Spectator_ of the\n19th ult. Crib verges on perfection, save that he is frantically jealous\nof any other animal who may receive attention, but yesterday he rebelled\nagainst the injustice of being compelled to eat all his dinner, and\nrefused to swallow one special piece of bread; but finding that his\nrefusal was not accepted, apparently made a virtue of necessity, and\ngulped down the bread with a look and wag of the tail, giving me to\nunderstand that I ought to be satisfied, which I was not, as I observed\na slight swelling in one cheek. So concealing my suspicion I furtively\nwatched. Crib also occasionally eyed me, lying down and then walking\nround the room, and sniffing in the corners, as he is wont to do. In a\nfew minutes, and when I appeared safely absorbed in my paper, he made\nhis way slowly to where pussy was lapping her saucer of milk; passing\nher without stopping, he cleverly discharged the hated mouthful into\npussy's milk, and continuing his walk to the rug, laid himself down and\nslept the sleep of the just.\n\n          C. S.\n\n\nA DOG STORY.\n\n          [_June 1, 1895._]\n\nPerhaps you will allow me to add another to your interesting list of dog\nstories. In a house where I once boarded there was a large and\nremarkably sagacious St. Bernard mastiff, who used to come into my\nsitting-room and give me his company at dinner, sitting on the floor\nbeside my chair, with his head on a level with the plates. His master,\nhowever, fearing that he was being over-fed, gave strict injunctions\nthat this practice should no longer be permitted. On the first day of\nthe prohibition the dog lay and sulked in the kitchen; but on the second\nday, when the landlady brought in the dishes, he stole in noiselessly\nclose behind her, and while for the moment she bent over the table, he\nslipped promptly beneath it, and waited. No sooner had she retired than\nhe emerged from his hiding-place, sat down in his usual position, and\nwinked in my face with a look which seemed to say, \"Haven't I done her!\"\nIn due course, the good woman came to change the plates, and as soon as\nhe heard her step, he slunk once more under the table; but in an\ninstant, ere she had time to open the door, he came out again, as if he\nhad suddenly taken another thought, and threw himself down on the rug\nbefore the fire--to all appearance fast asleep. \"Ah, Keeper; you there,\nyou rascal!\" exclaimed his mistress, in indignant surprise, as she\ncaught sight of him. The dog opened his eyes, half raised his body,\nstretched himself out lazily at full length, gave a great yawn as if\nawakened from a good long sleep, and then, with a wag of his tail, went\nforward and tried to lick her hand. It was a capital piece of acting,\nand the air of perfect guilelessness was infinitely amusing.\n\n          GEO. MCHARDY.\n\n\nWOW: A STORY OF A CAT'S PAW.\n\n          [_March 23, 1872._]\n\nI think you will be interested in the following anecdote of a\ndistinguished foreigner. One of the happiest results of that abandonment\nof their ancient exclusiveness which has rendered us familiar with the\nJapanese, has been the arrival on these shores of a very pretty fluffy\nlittle dog, a born subject of the Mikado, who hails or rather barks from\nNagasaki, and who is happily domiciled with a friend of mine, of a\nsufficiently elevated mind to esteem at its proper value the privilege\nof being the master of a clever and refined dog. The child of the sun\nand the earthquake has been named Wow, an ingenious combination of the\nfamiliar utterance of his kind with the full-mouthed terminals of the\nlanguage of the merely human inhabitants of his country. My own\nimpression is that Wow smacks rather of the melodious monosyllabic\ntongue of the Flowery Land than of that of the Dragon country; but this\nis a detail, and, as a young naval officer newly come from Nipon\nremarked to me lately, with much fervour, \"Thank God! a fellow isn't\nobliged to learn their lingo.\" Wow has made himself at home and happy in\nhis Northern residence with all the courtesy and suavity of a true\nJapanese, and has attached himself to his master with apparent\nresignation to the absence of pigtail and petticoat, articles of attire\nreplaced in this case by the wig and gown of a Q.C. About this\nattachment there is, however, none of the exclusiveness which\ncharacterises the insular dog. Wow is a politician, or at least a\ndiplomatist, and he desires to maintain friendly relations, with\nprofitable results to himself, with everybody. He succeeds in doing so\nto an extraordinary extent, of which fact his master lately discovered\nevidence. Very strict orders, including the absolute prohibition of\nbones, had been issued with regard to Wow's diet. The ideas of a country\nin which little dogs eat, but are not eaten, require liberality in his\nopinion, and Wow made up his mind he would have his bones without\nincurring the penalties of disobedience, which his master, in the\ninterests of the delicate foreigner, was determined to inflict. A\ncommodious and elegant residence was fitted up in the study for Wow, and\nhe was permitted free access to the upper floors of the house, but the\nline was drawn at the kitchen staircase. That way lay bones and ruin,\nand its easy descent was interdicted by stern command, which Wow\nunderstood as clearly as did its utterer, though he at first affected a\nsimple and unconscious misapprehension. Then Wow was reproved and gently\nchastised, an administration of justice performed with the utmost\nreluctance by his master, but with the happiest results. Nothing could\nbe more admirable than Wow's submission, more perfect than his\nobedience. He never looked towards the kitchen stairs, and would attend\nat the family meals without following the retiring dishes with a wistful\ngaze, or betraying a longing for the forbidden bones by so much as a\nsniff. Attached to the lower department of the household is a humble\ncat, a faithful creature in her way, but not cultivated by my friend as\nI could wish. With this meek and useful animal Wow contracted a\nfriendship regarded by his master as a proof of his amiability and\ncondescension. (In my capacity of narrator I am compelled to use the\nlatter somewhat injurious term--as a private individual with an undying\nrecollection, I repudiate it). But the single-minded Q.C. had something\nto learn of the four-footed exile from the Far East concerning this\nintimacy. Coming into his study one day at an unusual hour, he saw the\ncat--I do not know her name, I am afraid she has not one--stealthily\ndepositing a bone behind a curtain. Presently she went downstairs, and\nreturned with a second bone, which she conveyed to the same place of\nconcealment, whence proceeded a gentle rustling and whisking, suggestive\nof the presence of Wow, whose house, or pagoda, was empty. Then arose\nthe Q.C., and cautiously peeped behind the curtain, where he beheld Wow\nand his humble friend amicably discussing their respective bones, Wow's\nbeing the bigger and the meatier of the two.\n\nThus did the Japanese exile illustrate the cosmopolitan story of the\ncatspaw (with the improvement of making it pleasant for the cat), and\naccomplish the proverbially desirable feat of minding both his meat and\nhis manners. If we could be secured against their imitation, it would be\npleasant to ask our own domestic pets the problems:\n\n    \"What do you think of that, my cat?\"\n    \"What do you think of that, my dog?\"\n\n\n          A CONSTANT READER AND DISCIPLE.\n\n\nTHE BIOGRAPHY OF SPRIG.\n\n          [_Jan. 20, 1872._]\n\nI dare not hope to equal the eloquent and most touching biography of\nNero, with whom I had the honour of a slight acquaintance. But I was the\npossessor of an animal who, in his way as a dog, not a cat, for\noriginality of character, reasoning power, talent, and devoted affection\nI have never seen equalled in his species, and you and your readers may\npossibly be interested by a sketch of his biography.\n\nWhere Sprig was born I do not know, nor had I any acquaintance with his\nparents. One morning several years ago I chanced to go down stairs\nearly, and found the milk-boy at the hall door, delivering his daily\nsupply to the cook. In the courtyard before my house was a\nbright-looking rough terrier of small size, frisking about very\ncheerfully, trying to catch the small stump of a tail which some cruel\ndespoiler had left him. As he was engaged in this pastime, a large brown\nretriever entered the gate, to look on, I suppose, for he had an amused\nexpression of face, and was wagging his tail amicably. Sprig, however,\nthough but a mite in comparison, decidedly resented the intrusion, and\nflew at the retriever's throat, from which he had to be choked off by\nhis owner, who brought him back in his arms. The little fellow was in\nthe highest state of excitement and anger, his bright, intelligent eyes\nflashing, and his hair bristling. He was indeed most amusingly fierce,\nbut was soon calmed when he was shown, and told, that his enemy had\nfled, whereupon the following colloquy ensued between myself and his\nowner: Myself: \"And where did you get that dog, boy? You did not steal\nhim, I hope?\" Boy, in a rich Dublin brogue: \"Ah, now! would I stale\nanythin', yer honner, an' me the poor milk-boy? Is it stale him? Bedad,\nit's my father's cuzin that's at the Curragh! Sure he's a corporal, so\nhe is. He brought him, and he sez, 'Yez'll get me a pound for him, and\nno less.' So it's a pound I want for him, sur, and nothin' less. An'\nsure John Lambert knows me well--so he does!\" When John, my servant,\nwas sent for, he gave a good account of the lad, and as he entirely\napproved of Sprig, I gave the sovereign, showing it to the dog, whose\nwondering eyes were glancing from one to the other. Then I said to the\nboy, \"Put him into my arms, and tell him he belongs to me;\" and he did\nso. The little fellow looked curiously and wistfully at the lad, who, to\ndo him justice, had tears in his eyes, and then nestled into my breast,\nlicking my hands and face. When my daughter came down stairs, I took up\nSprig and placed him in my youngest daughter's arms, a process he\nappeared to comprehend perfectly, and told him she was his mistress; nor\nto the day of his death did he ever falter in his devoted allegiance to\nher. He was very fond of me and of us all, but his deepest love was for\nhis mistress, and on many occasions was most affecting to see. She was\noften delicate, and once had a sharp attack of typhus fever. In this\nillness Sprig never left her. He would lie at the foot of her bed\nwatching her, and would sometimes creep gently up to her, put his paws\nround her neck, and lick her hands softly, while the pleading of his\nlarge eyes looking from his mistress, in her unconscious delirium, to\nher sister and me, was touching in the extreme. Indeed, there were then\nmany sad illnesses, but Sprig was always the same. As my child grew\nstronger and better her little friend would amuse her by the hour\ntogether; sit up, beg, preach, play with his ball, and try in humble\ndoggie fashion to beguile her of her pain. But I am anticipating.\n\nSprig was, I believe, what is called a Dandie Dinmont, and as he grew up\nhe became, for his class, a very handsome, as he was a sturdy, little\nfellow, with great strength for his size. He was a reddish-brown colour,\nmore dark-red than brown, like a squirrel, with white below, and a\ndelightfully fuzzy head, and a breast of long soft white hair. His eyes\nwere that peculiar bright liquid \"dog\" brown which is capable of so much\nexpression, and he grew to have a long moustache and beard. Even the\nmost un-observant of dogs admired him, for he resembled no terrier I\nhave ever seen. I think he would have won the prize of his class at the\nDublin Dog Show, had it not been for a terrible accident he met with in\nbeing wounded by a large foxhound in a neighbouring orchard. His neck\nwas then torn open, and he was rescued by John only in time to prevent\nhis being killed. As it was, it was weeks before he could walk--and how\npatient he was all the time! and as the wound healed it left a\nthickening of his skin which had an awkward look. Sprig was, however,\n\"highly commended.\" In his youth he was perhaps rather short in his\ntemper, and always resented in the most distinct manner any liberty that\nwas taken with him. To tread upon his foot was perilous, but he was at\nonce pacified if an apology was made that it was accidental; but to pull\nhis tail wilfully was an insult which he resented bitterly, and for\nwhich much atonement was necessary, or he would go under the sofa and\ncry in his peculiar manner when offended.\n\nAs he grew up, Sprig developed various talents which were highly\ncultivated. His greatest pleasure, perhaps, was in an india-rubber ball,\nwith which his gambols were indescribably pretty and constant. It was a\ngreat distress when he lost or mislaid his ball, and he was miserable\ntill he found it, or another was brought him. It was a cruel thing to\nsay, when one of us went to town, \"Sprig, I will bring you a new ball,\"\nand as sometimes happened, to forget to do so. On return he would sniff\nabout the person who had gone, poke his nose into his or her pockets,\nand if disappointed could hardly be soothed, but would go away and have\nhis quiet cry to himself. Sometimes a kind friend who knew him might\nbring him a new ball; but it very much depended on who presented it\nwhether it was accepted or not, and I am afraid that too frequently for\nhis good manners he turned it over contemptuously with his nose and left\nit for the old one, which, gnawed, bitten, and broken, was still the\nfavourite. I used sometimes to make a ball squeak by pressing the hole\nagainst my hand, and I believe he thought it was in pain, for he would\nwhine piteously, and would not let me rest till he had it again in his\npossession. It was most amusing to see him when a parcel of new balls\narrived, he having been told beforehand that one was coming. He would\nfind out directly who had it, and become impatient and cross indeed if\nhe did not get it directly. When the parcel was given him, his great\ndelight was to open it himself and select _one_. A red ball was usually\npreferred, but not always. All were subjected to the most varied\ntrials--gnawed, smelt, and rolled, till the one which pleased his fancy\nwas finally selected; of the rest he would take no notice whatever.\n\nSprig was thoroughly a gentleman, and on most occasions he was most\nattentive to lady visitors. He never noticed gentlemen. On one occasion,\nwhen my daughters were out, a dear friend called (Nero's mistress). She\ntold us afterwards that Sprig had been a most attentive beau. He met her\nat the hall door, welcomed her in his odd fashion, trotted before her\ninto the drawing-room, looking behind him to see if she followed. He\nthen jumped upon the ottoman, inviting her to sit down; when she was\nseated he brought his ball and went through all his tricks with it, sat\nup on his hind legs, begged with his paws, preached to her in his own\nqueer way, and kept her amused till, no longer able to remain, she bid\nhim good morning and left, evidently to his disgust. \"Could he have\nspoken,\" she said afterwards, \"he would have told me to wait, for his\nmistresses would soon be back; the look was in his face, but the words\nwere wanting.\" His attention to visitors was never omitted. When we had\na ball or evening party, he would await, with John Lambert, the several\narrivals at the hall door, welcome each new party, and usher them in a\nsolemn manner into the drawing-room or tea-room, returning for a new set\nto his former place. Nor did he want for an occasional cake or biscuit\nat the tea-table; \"he was so amiable,\" said the young ladies, \"he could\nnot be resisted.\"\n\nAs an instance of how perfectly he understood what was said to him, I\nmay relate that one hot day I had walked out from town, and being\nthirsty went into the dining-room for a drink of water. I saw Sprig's\nball under the table, and when I went into the garden where my girls\nwere sitting they said, \"Sprig has lost his ball, and is perfectly\nmiserable.\" After I had sent him to look about for it, I said, \"Now,\nSprig, I know where it is; I saw it in the dining-room under the table;\ngo fetch it.\" He looked brightly at me, and I repeated what I had said.\nHe trotted off, and while we were wondering whether he had understood\nme, he returned with it in his mouth quite delighted. I have mentioned\nhis preaching, which may sound rather irreverent, but it was an\naccomplishment entirely of his own invention. When seated in a chair\nafter dinner, and requested to preach, he would sit up, place his\nforepaws gravely on the table, and then lifting up one paw as high as\nhis head, and then the other, deliver a discourse to the company in a\nsort of gurgling, growling manner, with an occasional low bark, which\nwas indescribably ludicrous to see and hear. What he meant by it we\ncould never find out, but I question whether he prized any of his\naccomplishments more than this.\n\nSometimes, but not often, he would go out by himself to take a walk, we\nsupposed to see his friends, for I never heard that he had any love\naffairs. If we all, or my daughters, or myself, met him on his return,\nI, or they, or we all might call to him, notice him as he brushed past\nus, or ask him to come for a walk. No. He would have none of our\ncompany; he would cut us dead, and go toddling home, his tail more erect\nand quivering than ever; never hastening his sedate pace, and giving his\nusual kick-out with one hind leg every third or fourth step, as was his\ncustom. He would have no connection with us; that was quite clear and\ndecided. Sprig was very fond, too, of a walk with his mistresses or with\nme, and, though never taught it, would always wipe his feet clean on the\nhall mat as he came in. I am now going to relate an anecdote of Sprig\nwhich I know is almost beyond credibility, but the occurrence so\ndisplayed his power of thought and reason that I cannot withhold it. My\nusual haunt is my den, as I call it, a large room at one end of our old\nrambling house. There Sprig never came unless with his mistresses, and\nindeed never was easy when he was there. I had begun a large full-length\npicture of my daughters, and Sprig and Whisky, a small Skye puppy, were\nto be painted lying at their feet. As the picture progressed, Sprig\nseemed to understand all about it, and paid me the compliment of wagging\nhis tail at the portraits. One day my girls had been sitting to me, and\nit was now Sprig's turn to sit. I put him into the proper position and\ntold him to lie still, and he proved a most patient sitter. When the\nsketch of him was finished, I showed it to him; I think he was pleased\nwith his likeness, for he licked my face; but as he smelt at his\nportrait, he did not like himself, and growled. Whisky was now put into\nposition, but was very restless, although Sprig scolded her by snarling\nat her. Next day I had put the picture against the wall near the\nwindow, and before a few steps which led up into my bedroom, and was\nbusy perched on a step-ladder with the after-portion of it. By and by I\nheard a great scratching at my bedroom door, which was closed, and Sprig\nwhining to get in. I thought this odd, but it was too much trouble to\ncome down from my perch, and I told him to go away. He, however, only\nwhined and scratched the more. I therefore descended, and getting behind\nthe picture, went up the steps and opened the door. Sprig did not notice\nme, but pushing past me hurried down the steps, and then, as I emerged\ninto the room, looked up to me blandly, and actually sat down in the\nplace in which I had put him the day before. I said to him gravely,\nthough infinitely amused, \"No, Sprig, I don't want you to-day; look, the\ncolour is all wet, go away to your mistress.\" He looked very blank and\ngreatly disappointed, and stood up with his tail drooped. Suddenly a\nbright thought seemed to strike him, as if he had said, \"Now I have it!\"\nWhisky had got hold of one of my slippers, and was playing with it in\nmy bedroom, and Sprig, rushing up the steps, seized her by the \"scruff\"\nof her neck, dragged her howling down the steps, and put her, I can use\nno other words, into the place where she had been the day before. He\nthen came to me frisking about, and could he but have spoken, would have\nsaid, \"If you don't want me, you must her, and there she is!\" He was\nquite triumphant about it; and dirty as I was, and palette in hand, I\ntook him forthwith to the drawing-room and told them what had happened.\n\nI could tell numberless other stories of the reasoning power and\nintelligence of our little pet, but I should trespass at too great\nlength on your patience. I could describe a curious friendship which\nsprang up between him and a German friend who was staying some time with\nus; how he learned many new tricks from him, and was taught to hop on\nhis hind legs from one end of the drawing-room to the other, with our\nfriend hopping backwards before him; I could describe his evening romps\nwith my dear father, never omitted while my father lived; and the many\ncurious traits by which his great love for us was perpetually\ndisplayed--how he learned to crack nuts of all kinds, and to pick out\nthe kernels like a squirrel--how he never went into the servants' hall\nor the kitchen, and refused to associate with the servants, though\nfriendly with them, and especially with John Lambert, his fast friend.\nBut I must bring this sketch to a close.\n\nWe had been absent about a year in Germany and the South of France.\nAfter we left, Sprig was inconsolable, and would not eat; but the cook\nmade him little curries and rice, and after a time he became more\nresigned. We only heard that he was well, and hoped we should find him\nso. The day we arrived I thought he would have died for joy. He gasped\nfor breath, and lay down, and when taken up by his mistress lay in her\narms almost insensible. It was long before he came to himself, and when\nhe did revive, it is quite impossible to describe his delight, or what\nhe did. He was, indeed, quite beside himself with joy, scouring about,\ndragging his mistress here and there, doing all his tricks in a\nconfused manner, and, in short, behaving after a very insane fashion\nindeed. We noticed he had a slight cough; but he seemed otherwise quite\nwell, and we thought it would go away; but it increased, and at that\ntime there was an epidemic of bronchitis among dogs. We sent him to an\neminent veterinary surgeon, who blistered him (and how patient the poor\nfellow was under the pain cannot be told), but though relieved for the\ntime, the end was near. One morning he was seen to do an apparently\nquite unaccountable thing. He took his son Terry (whom he was never\nknown to notice except by knocking him over and standing upon him,\ngrowling fiercely), all round our village, and visited all the dogs in\nit. John saw him doing this early in the morning, and told me of it. I\nsuppose he was commending Terry to their favour. He coughed a great deal\nall day, and breathed heavily; but in the evening he was very bright,\nand to all appearance much better, and insisted on doing all his tricks\ntill it was time to go to bed. Sprig never would go to bed willingly.\nJohn used to come to the drawing-room door and call him, and he would go\nto it, but stand growling till he was caught up and carried off. That\nevening, as we remembered, he seemed more than ever unwilling to go, but\nwas caught up and carried away.\n\nIn the morning, about six o'clock--it was summer-time--I was just about\nto get up, when John Lambert knocked at my door, and came in with Sprig\nin his arms. He did not speak, and I asked him whether Sprig was worse.\n\"He's dead, sir,\" said he, with the tears rolling down his face, and\nhardly able to speak. \"Quite dead, sir; he must have died only a little\nwhile ago, for when I went to let him out, I found him dead and quite\nwarm, as he is still.\" I am not ashamed to write that my eyes felt very\nblind, but there was no hope; the dear little fellow was quite dead; he\nhad died calmly, and his eyes were bright; they had not glazed.\n\nWe buried him, John and myself, when he was quite cold and stiff, by a\nrose-tree at the end of the garden. Poor John could hardly dig the\ngrave, and his tears fell fast and silently and upon dear old Sprig as\nwe covered him up for ever. I wish I could write a fitting epitaph for a\ncreature who, through his life, was a constant source of pleasure to all\nwho knew him.\n\n          M. T.\n\n\nA DOG STORY.\n\n          [_June 8, 1895._]\n\nA friend thinks I ought to add to the collection of dog stories\nappearing in the _Spectator_, one which is within my own knowledge, and\nmay appear deserving of publication. My uncle, a well-known Chairman of\nthe Bench of Magistrates in a western county, had a tenant on his\nestates who occupied a farm not far from the River Severn. The farmer\npossessed a favourite dog, who slept at the foot of his bed every night.\nWhen a brother emigrated to Canada, the farmer gave him the dog as a\ntravelling companion. In the course of time the news arrived that the\nemigrant and his family, together with the dog, had safely reached their\ndestination--a farm in the interior of Canada some days' journey from\nthe port where they landed. At a later date the brother in Canada wrote\nto his family in England saying that the dog had disappeared. Some time\nafterwards the dog came back to the farm of his old master, about three\nmiles from Gloucester, and though at first it could hardly be believed\nthat he was returned from Canada, yet he soon established his identity\nby taking his old place at the foot of his master's bed at night.\nInquiries were made, and the dog's course was traced backwards to the\nRiver Severn, thence to Bristol, and thence to a port in Canada. It\nappeared that, after running from his home in Canada to the seaport, he\nselected there a vessel bound for Bristol, and shipped on board. After\narriving at the Bristol basin, he found out a local vessel trading up\nand down the River Severn (locally called a \"trow\"), and transferred\nhimself to her deck. When he reached the neighbourhood of Gloucester,\nthe dog must have jumped into the Severn and reached the shore nearest\nto his old home.\n\nI can vouch for the truth of this story, from information received from\nmy relations on the spot shortly after the occurrence took place. I knew\nthe farm well, and the farmer who occupied it.\n\n          H. C. N.\n\n\nA CAT-AND-DOG FRIENDSHIP.\n\n          [_June 8, 1895._]\n\nThe interesting letter, \"A Canine Nurse,\" in the _Spectator_ of May\n18th, recalls to mind an equally curious event in cat and dog life which\noccurred some years since in a house where I was living, but with the\nadditional interest of a hen being also implicated.\n\nIn the back-kitchen premises of an old manor-house, amongst hampers, and\nsuch like odds and ends, a cat had a litter of kittens. They were all\nremoved but one, and as the mother was frequently absent, a hen began\nlaying in a hamper close by. For a time all things went well, the hen\nsitting on her eggs and the cat nursing the kitten within a few inches\nof each other. The brood were hatched out, and almost at the same time\nthe old cat disappeared. The chickens were allowed to run about on the\nfloor for sake of the warmth from a neighbouring chimney, and the kitten\nwas fed with a saucer of milk, &c., in the same place, both feeding\ntogether frequently out of the same dish. The hen used to try to induce\nthe kitten to eat meal like the chicks, calling to it and depositing\npieces under its nose in the most amusing way; finally doing all in its\npower to induce the kitten to come, like her chicks, under her wings.\nThe result was nothing but a series of squalls from the kitten, which\nled to its being promoted from the back to the front kitchen, where it\nwas reared until it was grown up. At this time a young terrier was\nintroduced into the circle, and after many back-risings and bad language\non pussy's part, they settled down amicably and romped about the floor\nin fine style. Eventually the terrier became an inveterate\nrabbit-poacher--killing young rabbits and bringing them home--a\nproceeding to which the cat gave an intelligent curiosity, then a\npassive and purring approval, and finally her own instincts having\nasserted themselves, she went off with the dog, hunting in the woods.\nOur own keeper reported them as getting \"simply owdacious,\" being found\na great distance from the house; and keepers of adjacent places also\nsaid the pair were constantly seen hunting hedgerows on their beats. On\none occasion I saw them myself hunting a short hedge systematically, the\ndog on one side, the cat on the other; and on coming near an open\ngateway a hare was put out of her form, and bounding through the open\ngate, was soon off; the dog followed, till he came through the gateway,\nwhere he stood looking after the hare; and the cat joining him, they\napparently decided it was too big or too fast to be successfully chased,\nso resumed the hedge-hunting, each taking its own side as before.\n\nThey frequently returned home covered with mud, and pussy's claws with\nfur, and would lie together in front of the fire; the cat often grooming\ndown the dog, licking him and rubbing him dry, and the dog getting up\nand turning over the ungroomed side to be finished. This curious\nfriendship went on for six months or more, till the dog had to be kept\nin durance vile to save him from traps and destruction, the cat, nothing\ndaunted, going on with her poaching until one day she met her fate in a\ntrap, and so brought her course to an end. The dog was a well-bred\nfox-terrier, and the cat a tabby of nothing beyond ordinary\ncharacteristics, save in her early life having been fostered by a hen,\nand in her prime the staunch friend and comrade of poor old Foxie, the\nterrier. If there are \"happy hunting-grounds\" for the animals hereafter,\nand such things are allowed in them, no doubt they will renew their\nintimacy, if not their poaching forays, together there.\n\n          R. J. GRAHAM SIMMONDS.\n\n\nTHE SENSE OF BOUNDARY IN DOGS.\n\n          [_March 14, 1885._]\n\nI have been much interested in the communications which have appeared\nfrom time to time in the _Spectator_ in reference to \"animal\nintelligence.\" Recently my attention has been called to a somewhat\nstriking illustration of it, in the case of my own dog and his canine\nneighbour next door. Wallace is an Irish staghound, and is about a year\nold. My neighbour's dog is a pointer, and is considerably advanced in\nlife. There is no hedge nor fence separating the two estates. The\ndividing line runs between two stone posts about a foot in height, and\nmore than two hundred feet from each other. The dogs have never been\nfriendly, the pointer having repeatedly driven Wallace back over the\nboundary when he has caught him trespassing. Both dogs, even when going\nat full speed, stop the moment my dog has crossed the line. How does\nthe pointer know where the line runs, and how does Wallace know when he\nis safely across it?\n\n          F. TUCKERMAN.\n\nTHE END.\n\n\n\n\nINDEX.\n\n\n  Affection, 106\n\n  Affection, A Dog's, 105\n\n  Alpine Dog, An, 63\n\n  Animal Intelligence, 68\n\n  Animals and Language, 72\n\n  Animals, Communication with, 77\n\n  Animals, Friendships of Dogs with other, 135\n\n  Animals, How our Meaning is Conveyed to, 65\n\n  Animals, The Courage of, 217\n\n  Are Dogs Colour-blind? 213\n\n  Arts, Dogs and the, 119\n\n  Australian Dog Story, 203\n\n  Automata, Conscious, 136\n\n\n  Biography of Sprig, 237\n\n  Boundary, Sense of, in Dogs, 260\n\n  Bully's Short Cut, 30\n\n\n  Canary, Dog and, 150\n\n  Canine Friendship, An Act of, 153\n\n  Canine Intelligence, 32\n\n  Canine Jealousy, 113\n\n  Canine Member of the S.P.C.A., 110\n\n  Canine Nurse, A, 147\n\n  Canine Sightseer, A, 44\n\n  Cat-and-Dog Friendship, 256\n\n  Cat-and-Dog Love, 151\n\n  Cat's Paw, A Story of a, 233\n\n  Cautious Dogs, 61\n\n  Character of a Dog, Features in the, 26\n\n  Collies at Work, 191, 192\n\n  Colour-blind? Are Dogs, 213\n\n  Commercial Treaty between Dog and Hen, 19\n\n  Communication, Teaching Dogs a Method of, 74\n\n  Communication with Animals, 77\n\n  Conscience-stricken Dog, A, 103\n\n  Conscious Automata, 136\n\n  Courage of Animals, The, 217\n\n  Courtesy, A Dog's, 112\n\n  Cow's, A, Jealousy of a Dog, 200\n\n  Cunning Dogs, 170\n\n  Curious Friendship, A, 148\n\n  Curious Habits of Dogs, 155\n\n  Cut, Bully's Short, 30\n\n\n  Deceivers, Dog, 173\n\n  Dinner, A Dog and his, 163\n\n  Dog, A, and a Rabbit, 141\n\n  Dog, A, and a Whip, 170\n\n  Dog, A, and his Dinner, 163\n\n  Dog, A Conscience-stricken, 103\n\n  Dog, A Jealous, 115\n\n  Dog, A, Obeying a Summons, 210\n\n  Dog, A, on Long Sermons, 17\n\n  Dog, A Parcel-carrying, 47\n\n  Dog, A Ruse, 171\n\n  Dog, A Sunday, 197\n\n  Dog, A, that Scorned to be Jealous, 116\n\n  Dog, An Alpine, 63\n\n  Dog and Canary, 150\n\n  Dog and Hen, Commercial Treaty between, 19\n\n  Dog and Kittens, 145\n\n  Dog and Pigeon, 139\n\n  Dog and the Ferry, 33\n\n  Dog Consciousness, 228\n\n  Dog, Cow's Jealousy of a, 200\n\n  Dog Deceivers, 173\n\n  Dog, Features in the Character of a, 26\n\n  Dog Friends, 133\n\n  Dog Friendships, 131\n\n  Dog, Intelligent Suspicion in a, 61\n\n  Dog Nurse, A, 20\n\n  Dog Story, A, 230\n\n  Dog Story, A, 254\n\n  Dog Story, An Australian, 203\n\n  Dog, Sympathy in a, 107\n\n  Dog, The, that Buried the Frogs, 157\n\n  Dog's Affection, A, 105\n\n  Dog's Courtesy, A, 112\n\n  Dog's Humanity, A, 108\n\n  Dog's Remorse, A, 101\n\n  Dogs and Language, 64\n\n  Dogs and Looking-glasses, 164\n\n  Dogs and the Arts, 119\n\n  Dogs, Cautious, 61\n\n  Dogs, Cunning, 170\n\n  Dogs, Curious Habits of, 155\n\n  Dogs, Emotion and Sentiment in, 99\n\n  Dogs, Guardian, 179\n\n  Dogs, Hospital, 22\n\n  Dogs, Humour and Cunning in, 165\n\n  Dogs, Instinct of Locality in, 83\n\n  Dogs, Music and, 121\n\n  Dogs, Power of Imitation in, 167\n\n  Dogs, Purchasing, 51\n\n  Dogs, Railway, 94\n\n  Dogs, Reason of, 37\n\n  Dogs, Reasoning Powers of, 49\n\n  Dogs, Recognition of Likenesses by, 124\n\n  Dogs, Sense of Boundary in, 260\n\n  Dogs, Sense of Humour in, 168, 169\n\n  Dogs, Sentiment and Emotion in, 99\n\n  Dogs, Syllogistic, 14\n\n  Dogs, Teaching a Method of Communication to, 74\n\n  Dogs, Two Anecdotes of, 206\n\n  Dogs, Useful, 177\n\n\n  Emotion and Sentiment in Dogs, 99\n\n  Explanation, An, 159\n\n\n  Features in the Character of a Dog, 26\n\n  Ferry, Dog and the, 33\n\n  Foreknowledge of Death? Have Animals a, 221\n\n  Four-footed Friends, Our, 224\n\n  Friends, Dog, 133\n\n  Friendship, A Cat-and-Dog, 256\n\n  Friendship, A Curious, 148\n\n  Friendship, An Act of Canine, 153\n\n  Friendships, Dog, 131\n\n  Friendships of Dogs with other Animals, 135\n\n  Frogs, The Dog that Buried the, 157\n\n\n  Guardian Dogs, 179\n\n\n  Habits of Dogs, Curious, 155\n\n  Have Animals a Foreknowledge of Death? 221\n\n  Hen and Puppies, 137\n\n  Hen, Commercial Treaty between Dog and a, 19\n\n  Hospital Dogs, 22\n\n  Humanity, A Dog's, 108\n\n  Humour and Cunning in Dogs, 165\n\n\n  Instinct, Maternal, in Animals, 219\n\n  Instinct of Locality in Dogs, 83\n\n  Instinct, or Reason? 21\n\n  Intelligence, A Pug's, 211\n\n  Intelligence, Animal, 68\n\n  Intelligence, Canine, 32\n\n  Intelligent Suspicion in a Dog, 61\n\n\n  Jealous Dog, A, 115\n\n  Jealous, Dog that Scorned to be, 116\n\n  Jealousy, Canine, 113\n\n\n  Kittens, Dog and, 145\n\n\n  Language, Animals and, 72\n\n  Language, Dogs and, 64\n\n  Likenesses, Recognition of, by Dogs, 124\n\n  Locality in Dogs, Instinct of, 83\n\n  Looking-glasses, Dogs and, 164\n\n  Love, Cat and Dog, 151\n\n  Lucky and Unlucky, 214\n\n\n  Maternal Instinct in Animals, 219\n\n  Meaning, How Conveyed to Animals, 65\n\n  Method of Communication, Teaching Dogs a, 74\n\n  Music and Dogs, 121\n\n\n  Nurse, A Canine, 147\n\n  Nurse, A Dog, 20\n\n\n  Our Four-footed Friends, 224\n\n\n  Parcel-Carrying Dog, A, 47\n\n  Pictures, Recognition by Animals of, 129\n\n  Pigeon, Dog and, 139\n\n  Pigeon Story, 144\n\n  Plan, Thinking out a, 45\n\n  Power of Imitation in Dogs, 167\n\n  Powers, Reasoning, of Dogs, 49\n\n  Pug's Intelligence, A, 211\n\n  Puppies, Hen and, 137\n\n  Purchasing Dogs, 51\n\n\n  Rabbit, A Dog and a, 141\n\n  Railway Dogs, 94\n\n  Reason, Instinct or, 21\n\n  Reason of Dogs, 37\n\n  Reasoning Powers of Dogs, 49\n\n  Recognition by Animals of Pictures, 129\n\n  Recognition of Likenesses by Dogs, 124\n\n  Remorse, A Dog's, 101\n\n\n  Sense of Humour in Dogs, 168, 169\n\n  Short Cut, Bully's, 30\n\n  Sight-seer, A Canine, 44\n\n  S.P.C.A., A Canine Member of the, 110\n\n  Sprig, Biography of, 237\n\n  Summons, A Dog Obeying a, 210\n\n  Sunday Dog, A, 197\n\n  Suspicion, Intelligent, in a Dog, 61\n\n  Syllogistic Dogs, 14\n\n  Sympathy in a Dog, 107\n\n\n  Teaching Dogs a Method of Communication, 74\n\n  Thinking out a Plan, 45\n\n  Treaty, Commercial, between Dog and Hen, 19\n\n  True, A, Watch-dog, 188\n\n\n  Unlucky, Lucky and, 214\n\n  Useful Dogs, 177\n\n\n  Watch-Dog, A True, 188\n\n  Whip, A Dog and a, 170","title":"Dog Stories from the \"Spectator\": Being anecdotes of the intelligence, reasoning power, affection and sympathy of dogs, selected from the correspondence columns of \"The Spectator\"","tradition":"folklore-oral-tradition","translated_text":null,"word_count":38893}