A spaniel belonging to a medical gentleman, with whom I am acquainted, residing at Richmond in Surrey, was in the habit of accompanying him when he went out at night to visit his patients. If he was shut out of the house of a patient, as was frequently the case, he would return home; and whatever the hour of the night might be, he would take the knocker in his mouth, and knock till the door was opened. It should be mentioned that the knocker was below a half-glazed door, so that it was easily within the dog's reach.

"In the capital of a German principality," says Capt. Brown, "the magistrates once thought it expedient to order all dogs that had not the mark of having been wormed, to be seized and confined for a certain time in a large yard without the walls of the town. These dogs, which were of all possible varieties, made a hideous noise while thus confined together; but a spaniel, which, as the person that had the care of them observed, sat apart from the rest in a corner of the yard, seemed to consider the circumstances with greater deliberation. He attended to the manner in which the gate of the yard was opened and shut; and, taking a favourable opportunity, leapt with his forepaws upon the latch, opened the gate, looked round upon the clamorous multitude, and magnanimously led them the way out of the prison. He conducted them in triumph through the gate of the town; upon which every dog ran home exulting to his master."

The following anecdote, which was sent to me by the gentleman who witnessed the occurrence, proves the sense and observation of a spaniel. He possessed one which was a great favourite, and a constant companion in all his rambles. One day, in passing through a field of young turnips, he pulled up one of them, and after washing it carefully in a rivulet, he cut off the top, and ate the other part. During this time the dog eyed him attentively, and then proceeded to one of the growing turnips, drew it from the earth, went up briskly to the rivulet, and after dashing it about some time till he caused the water to froth considerably, he laid it down, and holding the turnip inverted, and by the top, he deliberately gnawed the whole of it off, and left the top, thus closely imitating the actions of his master.

A gentleman, who generally resided at Boston in Lincolnshire, had also a house at Chepstow in Monmouthshire, to which he occasionally went in the summer. While at the latter place, a small spaniel dog which a friend at Chepstow had given him was taken on his return in a carriage to Boston. On the Sunday evening after the arrival at that place, the spaniel was attacked by a large dog, when out walking with his master on the river bank, and ran away. Nothing was heard of him until the receipt of a letter from Chepstow, announcing his arrival at that place in a famished and travel-worn condition. The distance is one hundred and eighty-four miles.

The following anecdote is related by Mr. Blaine:—

"I was once called from dinner in a hurry to attend to something that had occurred; unintentionally I left a favourite cat in the room, together with a no less favourite spaniel. When I returned I found the latter, which was not a small figure, extending her whole length along the table by the side of a leg of mutton which I had left. On my entrance she showed no signs of fear, nor did she immediately alter her position. I was sure, therefore, that none but a good motive had placed her in this extraordinary situation, nor had I long to conjecture. Puss was skulking in a corner, and though the mutton was untouched, yet her conscious fears clearly evinced that she had been driven from the table in the act of attempting a robbery on the meat, to which she was too prone, and that her situation had been occupied by this faithful spaniel to prevent a repetition of the attempt. Here was fidelity united with great intellect, and wholly free from the aid of instinct. This property of guarding victuals from the cat, or from other dogs, was a daily practice of this animal; and, while cooking was going forward, the floor might have been strewed with eatables, which would have been all safe from her own touch, and as carefully guarded from that of others. A similar property is common to many dogs, but to spaniels particularly."

It is impossible in a work on dogs to omit the insertion of some pretty lines on a spaniel by Mrs. Barrett Browning, and which do so much credit to her kindly feelings and poetic talents:—

"Yet, my pretty sportive friend, Little is't to such an end That I praise thy rareness! Other dogs may be thy peers, Haply, in those drooping ears, And this glossy fairness.

But of thee it shall be said, 'This dog watched beside a bed Day and night unweary,— Watched within a curtained room Where no sunbeam broke the gloom Round the sick and dreary.

Roses, gathered for a vase, In that chamber died apace, Beam and breeze resigning— This dog only waited on, Knowing that when light is gone Love remains for shining.

Other dogs, in thymy dew, Tracked the hares and followed through Sunny moor or meadow— This dog only crept and crept Next a languid cheek that slept, Sharing in the shadow.

Other dogs of loyal cheer Bounded at the whistle clear, Up the woodside hieing— This dog only watched in reach Of a faintly uttered speech, Or a louder sighing.

And if one or two quick tears Dropped upon his glossy ears, Or a sigh came double,— Up he sprang in eager haste, Fawning, fondling, breathing fast, In a tender trouble.'"



THE POODLE.

"With all the graces of his fatherland; With well-cut coat, and ever ready hand— See—the French poodle sports his life away; Obedient, wise, affectionate, and gay." Chronicles of Animals.

These dogs, like all others, possess many amiable qualities, and are remarkable for the facility with which they learn several amusing tricks, and for their extraordinary sagacity. This latter quality has frequently made them a great source of profit to their masters, so that it may be said of them, "c'est encore une des plus profitables manieres d'etre chien qui existent." A proof of this is related by M. Blaze in his history of the dog, and was recorded by myself many years before his work appeared.

A shoe-black on the Pont Neuf at Paris had a poodle dog, whose sagacity brought no small profit to his master. If the dog saw a person with well-polished boots go across the bridge, he contrived to dirty them, by having first rolled himself in the mud of the Seine. His master was then employed to clean them. An English gentleman, who had suffered more than once from the annoyance of having his boots dirtied by a dog, was at last induced to watch his proceedings, and thus detected the tricks he was playing for his master's benefit. He was so much pleased with the animal's sagacity, that he purchased him at a high price and conveyed him to London. On arriving there, he was confined to the house till he appeared perfectly satisfied with his new master and his new situation. He at last, however, contrived to escape, and made his way back to Paris, where he rejoined his old master, and resumed his former occupation. I was at Paris some years ago, where this anecdote was related to me, and it is now published in the records of the French Institute.

Perhaps the most remarkable instance known of what are called "Learned Dogs," is that of two poodles, which were trained at Milan, and exhibited at Paris in the spring of 1830. The account of them is given by a lady, whose veracity is not doubtful, and who herself saw their performance. "The elder, named Fido," says she, "is white, with some black patches on his head and back; and the younger, who is called Bianco, is also white, but with red spots. Fido is a grave and serious personage, walks with dignity round the circle assembled to see him, and appears much absorbed in reflection. Bianco is young and giddy, but full of talent when he chooses to apply it. Owing to his more sedate disposition, however, Fido is called upon to act the principal part of the exhibition. A word is dictated to him from the Greek, Latin, Italian, German, French, or English language, and selected from a vocabulary where fifty words in each tongue are inscribed, and which all together make three hundred different combinations. An alphabet is placed before Fido, and from it he takes the letters which compose the given word, and lays them in proper order at the feet of his master. On one occasion he was told to spell the word Heaven, and he quickly placed the letters till he came to the second e; he stood for an instant as if puzzled, but in a moment after he took the e out of the first syllable, and put it into the second. His attainments in orthography, however, are not so surprising as those in arithmetic. He practises the four rules with extraordinary facility, arranges the double ciphers as he did the double vowels in the word Heaven, and rarely makes an error. When such does occur, his more thoughtless companion is called in to rectify it, which he invariably does with the greatest quickness; but as he had rather play than work, and pulls Fido by the ears to make him as idle as himself, he is quickly dismissed. One day, the steady Fido spelt the word Jupiter with a b instead of a p; Bianco was summoned to his aid, who, after contemplating the word, pushed out the b with his nose, and seizing a p between his teeth, put it into the vacancy. Fido is remarkable for the modest firmness with which he insists upon his correctness when he feels convinced of it himself; for a lady having struck a repeating watch in his ear, he selected an 8 for the hour, and a 6 for the three-quarters. The company present, and his master, called out to him he was wrong. He reviewed his numbers and stood still. His master insisted, and he again examined his ciphers; after which he went quietly, but not in the least abashed, into the middle of the carpet, and looked at his audience. The watch was then sounded again, and it was found to have struck two at every quarter; and Fido received the plaudits which followed with as gentle a demeanour as he had borne the accusation of error.

"One occupation seems to bring the giddy Bianco to the gravity of the elder savant; and when the spectators are tired of arithmetic and orthography, the two dogs either sit down to ecarte, or become the antagonists of one of the company. They ask for, or refuse cards, as their hands require, with a most important look; they cut at the proper times, and never mistake one suit for another. They have recourse to their ciphers to mark their points; and on one occasion Bianco having won, he selected his number, and on being asked what were the gains of his adversary, he immediately took an O between his teeth, and showed it to the querist; and both seemed to know all the terms of the game as thoroughly as the most experienced card-players. All this passes without the slightest visible or audible sign between the poodles and their master; the spectators are placed within three steps of the carpet on which the performance goes forward; people have gone for the sole purpose of watching the master; everybody visits them, and yet no one has hitherto found out the mode of communication established between them and their owner. Whatever this communication may be, it does not deduct from the wonderful intelligence of these animals; for there must be a multiplicity of signs, not only to be understood with eyes and ears, but to be separated from each other in their minds, or to be combined one with another, for the various trials in which they are exercised.

"I have seen learned pigs and ponies, and can, after these spectacles, readily imagine how the extraordinary sagacity of a dog may be brought to a knowledge of the orthography of three hundred words; but I must confess myself puzzled by the acquirements of these poodles in arithmetic, which must depend upon the will of the spectator who proposes the numbers; but that which is most surprising of all is the skill with which they play ecarte. The gravity and attention with which they carry on their game is almost ludicrous; and the satisfaction of Bianco when he marks his points is perfectly evident."

Nor is this a solitary instance of the extraordinary sagacity of the poodle. A lady of my acquaintance had one for many years, who was her constant companion both in the house and in her walks. When, however, either from business or indisposition, her mistress did not take her usual walk on Wimbledon Common, the dog, by jumping on a table, took down the maid-servant's bonnet, and held it in her month till she accompanied the animal to the Common.

A friend of mine had a poodle dog, who was not very obedient to his call when he was taken out to run in the fields. A small whip was therefore purchased, and the dog one day was chastised with it. The whip was placed on a table in the hall of the house, and the next morning it could not be found. It was soon afterwards discovered in the coal-cellar. The dog was a second time punished with it, and again the whip was missed. It was afterwards discovered that the dog had attempted to hide the instrument by which pain had been inflicted on him. There certainly appears a strong approach to reason in this proceeding of the dog. Cause and effect seem to have been associated in his mind, if his mode of proceeding may be called an effort of it.

In Messrs. Chambers' brochure of amusing anecdotes of dogs we find the following:—

An aged gentleman has mentioned to us that, about fifty years ago, a Frenchman brought to London from eighty to a hundred dogs, chiefly poodles, the remainder spaniels, but all nearly of the same size, and of the smaller kind. On the education of these animals their proprietor had bestowed an immense deal of pains. From puppyhood upwards they had been taught to walk on their hind-legs, and maintain their footing with surprising ease in that unnatural position. They had likewise been drilled into the best possible behaviour towards each other; no snarling, barking, or indecorous conduct took place when they were assembled in company. But what was most surprising of all, they were able to perform in various theatrical pieces of the character of pantomimes, representing various transactions in heroic and familiar life, with wonderful fidelity. The object of their proprietor was, of course, to make money by their performances, which the public were accordingly invited to witness in one of the minor theatres.

Amongst their histrionic performances was the representation of a siege. On the rising of the curtain there appeared three ranges of ramparts, one above the other, having salient angles and a moat, like a regularly-constructed fortification. In the centre of the fortress arose a tower, on which a flag was flying; while in the distance behind appeared the buildings and steeples of a town. The ramparts were guarded by soldiers in uniform, each armed with a musket or sword, of an appropriate size. All these were dogs, and their duty was to defend the walls from an attacking party, consisting also of dogs, whose movements now commenced the operations of the siege. In the foreground of the stage were some rude buildings and irregular surfaces, from among which there issued a reconnoitring party; the chief, habited as an officer of rank, with great circumspection surveyed the fortification; and his sedate movements, and his consultations with the troops that accompanied him, implied that an attack was determined upon. But these consultations did not pass unobserved by the defenders of the garrison. The party was noticed by a sentinel and fired upon; and this seemed to be the signal to call every man to his post at the embrasures.

Shortly after, the troops advanced to the escalade; but to cross the moat, and get at the bottom of the walls, it was necessary to bring up some species of pontoon, and, accordingly, several soldiers were seen engaged in pushing before them wicker-work scaffoldings, which moved on castors, towards the fortifications. The drums beat to arms, and the bustle of warfare opened in earnest. Smoke was poured out in volleys from shot-holes; the besieging forces pushed forward in masses, regardless of the fire; the moat was filled with the crowd; and, amid much confusion and scrambling, scaling-ladders were raised against the walls. Then was the grand tug of war. The leaders of the forlorn hope who first ascended were opposed with great gallantry by the defenders; and this was, perhaps, the most interesting part of the exhibition. The chief of the assailants did wonders; he was seen now here, now there, animating his men, and was twice hurled, with ladder and followers, from the second gradation of ramparts: but he was invulnerable, and seemed to receive an accession of courage on every fresh repulse. The rattle of the miniature cannon, the roll of the drums, the sound of trumpets, and the heroism of the actors on both sides, imparted an idea of reality to the scene.

After numerous hairbreadth escapes, the chief surmounted the third line of fortifications, followed by his troops; the enemy's standard was hurled down, and the British flag hoisted in its place; the ramparts were manned by the conquerors; and the smoke cleared away, to the tune of "God save the King."

It is impossible to convey a just idea of this performance, which altogether reflected great credit on its contriver, as also on the abilities of each individual dog. We must conclude that the firing from the embrasures, and some other parts of the mechanique, were effected by human agency; but the actions of the dogs were clearly their own, and showed what could be effected with animals by dint of patient culture.

Another specimen of these canine theatricals was quite a contrast to the bustle of the siege. The scene was an assembly-room, on the sides and the further end of which seats were placed; while a music-gallery, and a profusion of chandeliers, gave a richness and truth to the general effect. Livery-servants were in attendance on a few of the company, who entered and took their seats. Frequent knockings now occurred at the door, followed by the entrance of parties attired in the fashion of the period. These were, of course, the same individuals who had recently been in the deadly breach; but now all was tranquillity, elegance, and ease. Parties were formally introduced to each other with an appearance of the greatest decorum. The dogs intended to represent ladies were dressed in silks, gauzes, laces, and gay ribbons. Some wore artificial flowers, with flowing ringlets; others wore the powdered and pomatumed head-dress, with caps and lappets, in ludicrous contrast to the features of the animals. The animals which represented gentlemen were judiciously equipped; some as youthful and others as aged beaux, regulated by their degrees of proficiency, since those most youthfully dressed were most attentive to the ladies. The frequent bow and return of curtsey produced great mirth in the audience. On a sudden the master of the ceremonies appeared; he wore a superb court-dress, and his manners were in agreement with his costume. To some of the gentlemen he gave merely a look of recognition; to the ladies he was generally attentive; to some he projected his paw familiarly, to others he bowed with respect; and introduced one to another with an air of elegance that surprised and delighted the spectators.

As the performance advanced the interest increased. The music was soon interrupted by a loud knocking, which announced the arrival of some important visitor. Several livery servants entered, and then a sedan-chair was borne in by appropriately dressed dogs; they removed the poles, raised the head, and opened the door of the sedan; forth came a lady, splendidly attired in spangled satin and jewels, and her head decorated with a plume of ostrich feathers! She made a great impression, and appeared as if conscious of her superior attraction; meanwhile the chair was removed, the master of the ceremonies, in his court-dress, was in readiness to receive the elegante, and the bow and curtsey were admirably interchanged. The band now struck up an air of the kind to which ball-room companies are accustomed to promenade, and the company immediately quitted their seats and began to walk ceremoniously in pairs round the room. Three of the ladies placed their arms under those of their attendant gentlemen. On seats being resumed, the master of the ceremonies and the lady who came in the sedan-chair arose; he led her to the centre of the room; Foote's minuet struck up; the pair commenced the movements with an attention to time; they performed the crossings and turnings, the advancings, retreatings, and obeisances, during which there was a perfect silence, and they concluded amid thunders of applause. What ultimately became of the ingenious manager with his company, our informant never heard.

The following anecdotes prove the strong affection and perseverance of the poodle. The late Duke of Argyll had a favourite dog of this description, who was his constant companion. This dog, on the occasion of one of the Duke's journeys to Inverary Castle, was, by some accident or mistake, left behind in London. On missing his master, the faithful animal set off in search of him, and made his way into Scotland, and was found early one morning at the gate of the castle. The anecdote is related by the family, and a picture shown of the dog.

A poor German artist, who was studying at Rome, had a poodle dog, who used to accompany him, when his funds would allow it, to an ordinary frequented by other students. Here the dog got scraps enough to support him. His master, not being able to keep up the expense, discontinued his visits to the ordinary. The dog fared badly in consequence, and at last his master returned to his friends in Germany, leaving the dog behind him. The poor animal slept at the top of the stairs leading to his master's room, but watched in the day time at the door of the ordinary, and when he saw his former acquaintances crowding in, he followed at their heels, and thus gaining admittance was fed till his owner came back to resume his studies.

A gentleman possessed a poodle dog and a terrier, between whom a great affection existed. When the terrier was shut up, as was sometimes the case, the poodle always hid such bones or meat as he could procure, and afterwards brought the terrier to the spot where they were concealed. He was constantly watched, and observed to do this act of kindness.

The sagacity of the poodle is strongly shown by the following fact. Mr. B——t, who was constantly in the habit of making tours on the Continent, was always accompanied by a poodle dog. In one of his journeys he was seated at a table-d'hote next to a person whose conversation he found so agreeable, that a sort of intimacy sprung up between them. The dog, however, for the first time he had ever done so to any one, showed a dislike to the stranger, and so much so, that Mr. B——t could not help remarking it. In the course of his tour he again fell in with the stranger, when the intimacy was renewed, and Mr. B——t offered him a seat in his carriage as they were both going the same way. No sooner, however, had the stranger entered the carriage, than the dog showed an increased dislike of him, which continued during the course of the journey. At night they slept at a small inn, in a wild and somewhat unfrequented country, and on separating in the evening to go to their respective beds, the poodle evinced the greatest anger, and was with difficulty restrained from attacking the stranger. In the middle of the night Mr. B——t was awoke by a noise in his room, and there was light enough for him to perceive that his dog had seized his travelling companion, who, upon being threatened, confessed that he had entered the room for the purpose of endeavouring to purloin Mr. B——t's money, of which he was aware that he possessed a considerable quantity. This is not a solitary instance of an instinctive faculty which enables dogs to discriminate, by showing a strong dislike, the characters of particular individuals.

A friend has sent me the following account of a poodle he once had:—

"Many years ago I had a poodle who was an excellent retriever. He was a middle-sized, active dog, a first-rate waterman, with a nose so particularly sensitive that no object, however minute, could escape its 'delicate investigation.' Philip was the hardiest animal in the world—no sea would prevent him from carrying a dead bird through the boiling breakers, and I have seen him follow and secure a wounded mallard, although in the attempt his legs were painfully scarified in breaking through a field of ice scarcely the thickness of a crown-piece. Philip, though of French extraction, had decidedly Irish partialities. He delighted in a glass of grog; and no matter with what labour and constancy he had returned from retrieving, he still enjoyed a glass of punch. When he had drunk it, he was in high glee, running round and round to try and catch his own tail, and even then allowing the cat to approach him, which he was by no means disposed to do at other times."

When my daughter was in Germany, she sent me the following interesting anecdote of a poodle, the accuracy of which she had an opportunity of ascertaining.

An inhabitant of Dresden had a poodle that he was fond of, and had always treated kindly. For some reason or another he gave her to a friend of his, a countryman in Possenderf, who lived three leagues from Dresden. This person, who well knew the great attachment of the dog to her former master, took care to keep her tied up, and would not let her leave the house till he thought she had forgotten him. During this time the poodle had young ones, three in number, which she nourished with great affection, and appeared to bestow upon them her whole attention, and to have entirely given up her former uneasiness at her new abode. From this circumstance her owner thought she had forgotten her old master, and therefore no longer kept her a close prisoner. Very soon, however, the poodle was missing, and also the three young ones, and nothing was heard of her for several days. One morning his friend came to him from Dresden, and informed him that the preceding evening the poodle had come to his house with one of the puppies in her mouth, and that another had been found dead on the road to Possenderf. It appeared that the dog had started in the night, carrying the puppies (who were not able to walk) one after the other, a certain distance on the road to Dresden, with the evident intention of conveying them all to her much-loved home and master. The third puppy was never found, and is supposed to have been carried off by some wild animal or bird, while the poor mother was in advance with the others. The dead one had apparently perished from cold.

The late Dr. Chisholm of Canterbury had a remarkable poodle, which a correspondent informs me he has often seen. On one occasion he was told, for the first time, by way of trial, to fetch his master's slippers. He went up-stairs, and brought down one only. He was then told, "You have brought one only, go and fetch the other;" and the other was brought. The next evening the dog was again told to bring the slippers. He went up-stairs, put one slipper within the other, and brought both down. This dog appeared to understand much of our language. When dining with Dr. Chisholm and others, his intelligence was put to the proof by my correspondent. Some one would hide an article, open the door, and bring in the dog, saying, "Find so-and-so." The poodle used to look up steadily in the face of the speaker, until he was told whether the article was hid high or low; he would then search either on the ground, or on the chairs and furniture, and bring the article, never taking any notice of any other thing that was lying about. He would, upon being ordered, go up-stairs and bring down a snuff-box, stick, pocket-handkerchief, or anything, understanding as readily what was said to him as if spoken to a servant.

Another poodle would go through the agonies of dying in a very systematic manner. When he was ordered to die, he would tumble over on one side, and then stretch himself out, and move his hind legs in such a way as expressed that he was in great pain, first slowly and afterwards very quickly. After a few convulsive throbs, indicated by putting his head and whole body in motion, he would stretch out all his limbs and cease to move, lying on his back with his legs turned upwards, as if he had expired. In this situation he remained motionless until he had his master's commands to get up.

The following anecdote was communicated to the Rev. Mr. Jenyns by Mrs. Grosvenor, of Richmond, Surrey:—

A poodle dog belonging to a gentleman in Cheshire was in the habit of not only going to church, but of remaining quietly in the pew during service, whether his master was there or not. One Sunday the dam at the head of a lake in that neighbourhood gave way, so that the whole road was inundated. The congregation, in consequence, consisted of a very few, who came from some cottages close by, but nobody attended from the great house. The clergyman informed the lady, that whilst reading the Psalms he saw his friend, the poodle, come slowly up the aisle dripping with wet, having swam above a quarter of a mile to get to church. He went into the usual pew, and remained quietly there to the end of the service.

The Marquess of Worcester (the late Duke of Beaufort), who served in the Peninsular war, had a poodle which was taken from the grave of his master, a French officer, who fell at the battle of Salamanca, and was buried on the spot. The dog had remained on the grave until he was nearly starved, and even then was removed with difficulty; so faithful are these animals in protecting the remains of those they loved.

A poodle dog followed his master, a French officer, to the wars; the latter was soon afterwards killed at the battle of Castella, in Valencia, when his comrades endeavoured to carry the dog with them in their retreat; but the faithful animal refused to leave the corpse, and they left him. A military marauder, in going over the field of battle, discovering the cross of the legion of honour on the dead officer's breast, attempted to capture it, but the poodle instantly seized him by the throat, and would have ended his career had not a comrade run the honest canine guardian through the body.

Mr. Blaine, in his "Account of Dogs," says that, "strange as it may appear, it is no less true, that a poodle dog actually scaled the high buildings of my residence in Wells Street, Oxford Street, proceeded along several roofs of houses, and made his way down by progressive but very considerable leaps into distant premises; from whence, by watching and stratagem, he gained the street, and returned home in order to join his mistress, for whose sake he had encountered these great risks."

I am always glad to have an opportunity of acknowledging the kindness of my correspondents, and now do so to the clergyman who very kindly sent me the following anecdote, which I give in his own words:—

"I have a distinct remembrance of Froll or Frolic, a dog belonging to an aged relation, once the property of her deceased only son, which animal, in his earlier days, doubtless gave evidence that his name was not given him unadvisedly, but during the yearly visits of myself to that kind and indulgent person, I can remember nothing but a rather small though fat unwieldy poodle, whose curly, glossy coat (preserved after his death), long yellow ears, and black nose, the rest of his body being perfectly white, betokened that he had been a beauty in his time. Froll was still a prodigious favourite with his mistress, although I confess my feelings towards him were rather those of fear than any other, for to touch him was quite sufficient to evoke a growl, or perchance a snap, from this pet of a dozen years or more. A cross, snappish fellow he was at best, and well he knew the length of Trusty the house-dog's chain, which less favoured quadruped was never let loose by day, from a well-grounded fear that he might, if allowed, resent, by summary punishment, the constant insults he was doomed to submit to from this most petted and presumptuous myrmidon of the drawing-room. With all this, although time and over-feeding had soured his temper, Froll still retained much of, if not all, his former intelligence (a trait so peculiar to his species), declared by many long-past but still vaunted proofs of his being a wonder in his way. One of his peculiarities was a fondness for apples—not indeed all apples, but those which grew on a particular tree, called 'Froll's tree,' and no others; this tree was, by the way, the best in the garden, and the small, sweet, delicate fruit therefrom (my reminiscence is distinct on this point) were carefully preserved for this canine favourite. Nothing would entice him to eat any other sort of apple. And in the season he would constantly urge his mistress into the garden by repeated barking, and other unmistakable symptoms. His daily meals, too, of which I think there were three regular ones, were events in themselves, the careful attention to which tended perhaps to relieve the monotony of a country life: they are indeed not speedily to be forgotten by those who witnessed them. He would take food from no one but his mistress or her maid, which latter person was his chief purveyor, who had been an inmate of the house contemporary with himself, or I believe long before; but this feeding was generally a task of great trouble, such coaxing and humouring on the one hand, such growling and snarling on the other, has been perhaps seldom heard. At length, after much beseeching on the part of the maid, and a few words of entreaty from the mistress, he would condescend to eat; but never, I believe, without some symptoms of discontent, how savoury soever the morsel, submitting to that as a favour which is generally snatched at and devoured with so much gusto and avidity by most others of his tribe. I should not have entered into these peculiarities, which are scarcely evidence of any intelligence beyond that of other dogs, were it not that the circumstances attending his death were really extraordinary, the more so when the character of the dog is considered; and as we have so often heard of a presentiment of that great change being strongly imprinted on human minds, so there were not wanting some of the then inmates of the house, who attributed his unwonted behaviour on the eve of his death to the same cause. The dog slept constantly in his mistress's bed-room, but, contrary to custom on the night in question, he pertinaciously refused to remain there. My brother and myself, who were then little boys, were, to our great surprise, aroused in the course of the night by an unwonted scratching at the door of our apartment, which we immediately opened, and, to our equal delight and wonder, were saluted by Froll's jumping up and licking our hands and faces—certainly he never appeared in better health and spirits in his life. Whether he did this to atone for his former uncourteous behaviour towards us, or was urged by some unaccountable feeling of amiability as well as restlessness, I cannot say, but certain it is his gentler faculties were that night for once aroused, for this unaccustomed compliment I can safely affirm we never personally received at any former period of our acquaintance. After a time he left us, charmed at experiencing these new and flattering demonstrations; which joy was, alas! doomed to be sadly and speedily extinguished. When the morning came, the distressed countenance of the servant who called us, portended some evil tidings, which was quickly followed by the unexpected intelligence of the demise of poor Froll. We hastily accompanied the servant into the coachman's sleeping apartment, and there, under the bed, lay the poor dog. It had pleased him to go there to die, having previously aroused every individual in the house during the night by scratching at their several chambers one after another, and saluting them in the same amiable manner he had my brother and myself."

This anecdote could be well authenticated by most of the persons then in the house, who are still alive.



THE ESQUIMAUX DOG.

Dr. Richardson, in his "American Fauna," mentions as a curious fact, that those Indian nations who still preserve their ancient mode of life, have dogs which bear a strong resemblance to wolves. Thus it is with the Esquimaux dogs. They are extremely like the grey wolves of the Arctic Circle in form and colour, and nearly equal to them in size. They also bear some resemblance to the Pomeranian breed, although the latter are much smaller.

It is curious that almost every nation on earth has some particular traditions regarding the dog. The Esquimaux, a nation inhabiting the polar regions, have a singular fable amongst them respecting the origin of the Dog-Rib Indians, a tribe which inhabits the northern confines of the American continent. It is thus detailed in Captain Franklin's "Second Journey to the Polar Sea:"—

"For a long time Chapawee's descendants were united as one family, but at length some young men being accidentally killed in a game, a quarrel ensued, and a general dispersion of mankind took place. One Indian fixed his residence on the borders of the lake, taking with him a dog big with young. The pups in due time were littered, and the Indian, when he went out to fish, carefully tied them up to prevent their straying. Several times, as he approached his tent, he heard a noise of children talking and playing; but on entering it, he only perceived the pups tied up as usual. His curiosity being excited by the voices he had heard, he determined to watch; and one day pretending to go out and fish, according to custom, he concealed himself in a convenient place. In a short time he again heard voices, and rushing suddenly into the tent, beheld some beautiful children sporting and laughing, with the dog-skins lying by their side. He threw the skins into the fire, and the children, retaining their proper forms, grew up, and were the ancestors of the Dog-Rib nation."

Captain Lyon, who had so many opportunities of studying the habits of the Esquimaux dog, has given so interesting an account of it that I cannot do better than quote his own words:—

"Having myself possessed, during our hard winter, a team of eleven fine dogs, I was enabled to become better acquainted with their good qualities than could possibly have been the case by the casual visits of the Esquimaux to the ships. The form of the Esquimaux dog is very similar to that of our shepherds' dog in England, but it is more muscular and broad-chested, owing to the constant and severe work to which he is brought up. His ears are pointed, and the aspect of the head is somewhat savage. In size a fine dog is about the height of the Newfoundland breed, but broad like a mastiff in every part except the nose. The hair of the coat is in summer, as well as in winter, very long, but during the cold season a soft, downy under-covering is found, which does not appear in warm weather. Young dogs are put into harness as soon as they can walk, and being tied up, soon acquire a habit of pulling, in their attempts to recover their liberty, or to roam in quest of their mother. When about two months old, they are put into the sledge with the grown dogs, and sometimes eight or ten little ones are under the charge of some steady old animal, where, with frequent and sometimes severe beatings, they soon receive a competent education. Every dog is distinguished by a particular name, and the angry repetition of it has an effect as instantaneous as an application of the whip, which instrument is of an immense length, having a lash from eighteen to twenty-four feet, while the handle is one foot only; with this, by throwing it on one side or the other of the leader, and repeating certain words, the animals are guided or stopped. When the sledge is stopped they are all taught to lie down, by throwing the whip gently over their backs, and they will remain in this position even for hours, until their master returns to them. A walrus is frequently drawn along by three or four of these dogs, and seals are sometimes carried home in the same manner, though I have in some instances seen a dog bring home the greater part of a seal in panniers placed across his back. The latter mode of conveyance is often used in summer, and the dogs also carry skins or furniture overland to the sledges when their masters are going on any expedition. It might be supposed that in so cold a climate these animals had peculiar periods of gestation, like the wild creatures, but, on the contrary, they bear young at every season of the year, and seldom exceed five at a litter. Cold has very little effect on them; for although the dogs at the huts slept within the snow passages, mine at the ships had no shelter, but lay alongside, with the thermometer at 42 deg. and 44 deg., and with as little concern as if the weather had been mild. I found, by several experiments, that three of my dogs could draw me on a sledge, weighing one hundred pounds, at the rate of one mile in six minutes; and as a proof of the strength of a well-grown dog, my leader drew one hundred and ninety-six pounds singly, and to the same distance, in eight minutes. At another time seven of my dogs ran a mile in four minutes, drawing a heavy sledge full of men. Afterwards, in carrying stores to the Fury, one mile distant, nine dogs drew one thousand six hundred and eleven pounds in the space of nine minutes. My sledge was on runners, neither shod nor iced; but had the runners been iced, at least forty pounds weight would have been added for each dog."

Captain Lyon, in another passage, observes:—"Our eleven dogs were large, and even majestic-looking animals; and an old one of peculiar sagacity was placed at their head by having a longer trace, so as to lead them through the safest and driest places, these animals having such a dread of water as to receive a severe beating before they would swim a foot. The leader was instant in obeying the voice of the driver, who never beat, but repeatedly called to him by name. When the dogs slackened their pace, the sight of a seal or bird was sufficient to put them instantly to their full speed; and even though none of these might be seen on the ice, the cry of "a seal!"—"a bear!"—or "a bird!" &c., was enough to give play to the legs and voices of the whole pack. It was a beautiful sight to observe the two sledges racing at full speed to the same object, the dogs and men in full cry, and the vehicles splashing through the holes of water with the velocity and spirit of rival stage-coaches. There is something of the spirit of professed whips in these wild races, for the young men delight in passing each other's sledge, and jockeying the hinder one by crossing the path. In passing on different routes the right hand is yielded, and should an inexperienced driver endeavour to take the left, he would have some difficulty in persuading his team to do so. The only unpleasant circumstance attending these races is, that a poor dog is sometimes entangled and thrown down, when the sledge, with perhaps a heavy load, is unavoidably drawn over his body. The driver sits on the fore part of the vehicle, from whence he jumps when requisite to pull it clear of any impediments which may lie in the way, and he also guides it by pressing either foot on the ice. The voice and long whip answer all the purposes of reins, and the dogs can be made to turn a corner as dexterously as horses, though not in such an orderly manner, since they are constantly fighting; and I do not recollect to have seen one receive a flogging without instantly wreaking his passion on the ears of his neighbours. The cries of the men are not more melodious than those of the animals; and their wild looks and gestures when animated, give them an appearance of devils driving wolves before them. Our dogs had eaten nothing for forty-eight hours, and could not have gone over less than seventy miles of ground; yet they returned, to all appearance, as fresh and active as when they first set out."

Such is the Esquimaux dog, an animal of the greatest value in the cold regions of the Arctic circle. In addition to Captain Lyon's very interesting account of them, it may be mentioned that they are of great use to their masters in discovering by the scent the winter retreats which the bears make under the snow. Their endurance, too, never tires, and their fidelity is never shaken by blows and starving: they are obstinate in their nature, but the women, who treat them with more kindness than the men, and who nurse them in their helpless state, or when they are sick, have an unbounded command over their affections.

I am indebted to Colonel Hamilton Smith for the following account of an Esquimaux dog brought to this country, and which he received from Mr. Cleghorn, the owner of the animal:—

"The Esquimaux dog is possessed of very great sagacity—in some respects, more than any dog I have ever seen. I may mention an instance. In coming along a country road a hare started, and in place of running after the hare in the usual way, the dog pushed himself through the hedge, crossed the field, and, when past the hare, through the hedge again, as if to meet her direct. It is needless to remark, that the hare doubled through the hedge; but had it been in an open country, there would have been a fine chase. One particular characteristic of the dog is, that he forms a strong attachment to his master, and however kind others may be, they never can gain his affection, even from coaxing with food or otherwise; and, whenever set at liberty, he rushes to the spot where the individual of his attachment is. I may give one or two instances among many. One morning he was let loose by some of the men on the ground, when he instantly bounded from them to my house, and the kitchen-door being open, found his way through it; when, to the great amazement of all, he leaped into the bed where I was sleeping, and fawned in the most affectionate manner upon me. Another instance was, when the dog was with me going up the steep bank of the Prince's Street garden, I slipped my foot and came down, when he immediately seized me by the coat, as if to render assistance in raising me. Notwithstanding this particular affection to some, he was in the habit of biting others, without giving the least warning or indication of anger. He was remarkably cunning, for he was in the practice of strewing his meat around him, to induce fowls or rats to come within his reach while he lay watching, as if asleep, when he instantly pounced upon them, and always with success. He was swift, and had a noble appearance when running."



THE OTTER TERRIER.

"How greedily They snuff the fishy steam, that to each blade Rank scenting clings! See! how the morning dews They sweep, that from their feet besprinkling drop Dispersed, and leave a track oblique behind. Now on firm land they range, then in the flood They plunge tumultuous; or through reedy pools Rustling they work their way; no holt escapes Their curious search. With quick sensation now The fuming vapour stings; flutter their hearts, And joy redoubled bursts from every mouth In louder symphonies. Yon hollow trunk, That with its hoary head incurv'd salutes The passing wave, must be the tyrant's fort And dread abode. How these impatient climb, While others at the root incessant bay!— They put him down."—SOMERVILLE.

The above is an animated and beautiful description of an otter hunt, an old English sport fast falling into disuse, and the breed of the real otter-hound is either extinct or very nearly so. In stating this, I am aware that there are still many dogs which are called otter-hounds; but it may be doubted whether they possess that peculiar formation which belongs exclusively to the true breed. Few things in nature are more curious and interesting than this formation, and it shows forcibly how beautifully everything has been arranged for the instincts and several habits of animals. The true otter-hound is completely web-footed, even to the roots of its claws; thus enabling it to swim with much greater facility and swiftness than other dogs. But it has another extraordinary formation; the ear possesses a sort of flap, which covering the aperture excludes the entrance of the water, and thus the dog is enabled to dive after the otter without that inconvenience which it would otherwise experience. The Earl of Cadogan has, what his Lordship considers, the last of the breed of the true otter-hound. It was a present from Sir Walter Scott. Lord Cadogan offered one hundred pounds for another dog of the same breed, but of a different sex; but I believe without being able to procure one with those true marks which are confined to the authentic breed. A gipsy was, indeed, said to have possessed one, but he refused to part with it.

Those who saw the exhibition of pictures in the Royal Academy in 1844 will recollect a large, interesting, and beautiful picture by Sir Edwin Landseer of a pack of otter-hounds. The picture describes the hunt at the time of the termination of the chase and the capture of the otter. The animal is impaled on the huntsman's spear, while the rough, shaggy, and picturesque-looking pack are represented with eyes intently fixed on the amphibious beast, and howling in uncouth chorus round their agonized and dying prey.

An otter-hunt is a cheerful and inspiriting sport, and it is still carried on in some of the lakes of Cumberland. Indeed, as lately as the year 1844, a pack of otter-hounds was advertised in the newspapers to be sold by private contract. The alleged cause of the owner's parting with them was in consequence of their having cleared the rivers of three counties (Staffordshire being one) of all the otters, and the number captured and killed in the last few years was mentioned. "Good otter-hounds," as an old writer observes, "will come chanting, and trail along by the river-side, and will beat every tree-root, every osier-bed, and tuft of bulrushes; nay, sometimes they will take the water and beat it like a spaniel, and by these means the otter can hardly escape you." The otter swims and dives with great celerity, and in doing the latter it throws up sprots, or air-bubbles, which enable the hunters to ascertain where it is, and to spear it. The best time to find it is early in the morning. It may frequently be traced by the dead fish and fish-bones strewed along the banks of the river. The prints, also, of the animal's feet, called his seal, are of a peculiar formation, and thus it is readily traced. The otter preys during the night, and conceals himself in the daytime under the banks of lakes and rivers, where he generally forms a kind of subterraneous gallery, running for several yards parallel to the water's edge, so that if he should be assailed from one end, he flies to the other. When he takes to the water, it is necessary that those who have otter-spears should watch the bubbles, for he generally vents near them. When the otter is seized, or upon the point of being caught by the hounds, he turns upon his pursuers with the utmost ferocity. Instances are recorded of dogs having been drowned by otters, which they had seized under water, for they can sustain the want of respiration for a much longer time than the dog.

Mr. Daniell, in his "Rural Sports," remarks that hunting the otter was formerly considered as excellent sport, and that hounds were kept solely for that purpose. The sportsmen went on each side of the river, beating the banks and sedges with the dogs. If an otter was not soon found, it was supposed that he had gone to couch more inland, and was sought for accordingly. If one was found, the sportsmen viewed his track in the mud, to find which way he had taken.

"On the soft sand, See there his seal impress'd! And on that bank Behold the glitt'ring spoils, half-eaten fish, Scales, fins, and bones, the leavings of his feast."

The spears were used in aid of the dogs. When an otter is wounded, he makes directly to land, where he maintains an obstinate defence:—

"Lo! to yon sedgy bank He creeps disconsolate; his numerous foes Surround him, hounds and men. Pierc'd through and through, On pointed spears they lift him high in air; Bid the loud horns, in gaily warbling strains, Proclaim the spoiler's fate: he dies, he dies."

The male otter never makes any complaint when seized by the dogs, or even when transfixed with a spear, but the females emit a very shrill squeal. In the year 1796, near Bridgenorth, on the river Wherfe, four otters were killed. One stood three, another four hours before the dogs, and was scarcely a minute out of sight. In April 1804, the otter-hounds of Mr. Coleman, of Leominster, killed an otter of extraordinary size. It measured from the nose to the end of the tail, four feet ten inches, and weighed thirty-four and a half pounds. This animal was supposed to be eight years old, and to have destroyed for the last five years a ton of fish annually. The destruction of fish by this animal is, indeed, very great, for he will eat none unless it be perfectly fresh, and what he takes himself. By his mode of eating them he causes a still greater consumption, for so soon as an otter catches a fish he drags it on shore, devours it to the vent, and, unless pressed by extreme hunger, always leaves the remainder, and takes to the water in search of more. In rivers it is always observed to swim against the stream, in order to meet its prey.

Otters bite very severely, and they will seize upon a dog with the utmost ferocity, and will shake it as a terrier does a rat. The jaws of the otter are so constructed, that even when dead it is difficult to separate them, as they adhere with the utmost tenacity. Otters are frequently found on the banks of the Thames, and a large one was caught in an eel-basket, near Windsor, but the hunting of them is discontinued.



THE GREYHOUND.

"Ah! gallant Snowball! what remains, Up Fordon's banks, o'er Flixton's plains, Of all thy strength—thy sinewy force, Which rather flew than ran the course? Ah! what remains? Save that thy breed May to their father's fame succeed; And when the prize appears in view, May prove that they are Snowballs too."

The perfection to which the greyhound has been brought by persevering care and attention to its breed, distinguishes it alike for beauty, shape, and high spirit, while its habits are mild and gentle in the extreme. These dogs were brought to this great perfection by the late Lord Orford, Major Topham, and others. Snowball,—perhaps one of the best greyhounds that ever ran,—won four cups, couples, and upwards of thirty matches, at Malton, and upon the wolds of Yorkshire. In fact, no dog had any chance with him except his own blood. In the November Malton coursing-meeting in 1799, a Scotch greyhound was produced, which had beat every opponent in Scotland. It was then brought to England, and challenged any dog in the kingdom. The challenge was accepted, and Snowball selected for the trial of speed; after a course of two miles, the match (upon which considerable sums were depending) was decided in his favour.

Another dog, which belonged to Sir Henry Bate Dudley, won seventy-four successive matches, without having been once beaten.

Various have been the opinions upon the difference of speed between a well-bred greyhound and a racehorse, if opposed to each other. Wishes had been frequently indulged by the sporting world, that some criterion could be adopted by which the superiority of speed could be fairly ascertained, when the following circumstance accidentally took place, and afforded some information upon what had been previously considered a matter of great uncertainty. In the month of December, some years ago, a match was to have been run over Doncaster race-course for one hundred guineas; but one of the horses having been drawn, a mare started alone, that by running the ground she might ensure the wager, when having run about one mile in the four, she was accompanied by a greyhound bitch, which joined her from the side of the course, and emulatively entering into the competition, continued to race with the mare for the other three miles, keeping nearly head and head, and affording an excellent treat to the field by the energetic exertions of each. At passing the distance-post, five to four was betted in favour of the greyhound; when parallel with the stand, it was even betting, and any person might have taken his choice from five to ten: the mare, however, had the advantage by a head at the termination of the course.

The courage and spirit of these dogs is very great. A greyhound ran a hare single-handed and raced her so hard, that, not having time to run through an opening at the bottom of some paling, she and the greyhound made a spring at the same moment at the top of the pales. The dog seized her at the instant she reached it, and in the momentary struggle he slipt between two broken pales, each of which ran into the top of his thighs. In this situation he hung till the horsemen came up, when, to their great surprise, he had the hare fast in his mouth, which was taken from him before he could be released.

I saw a hare coursed on the Brighton Downs some years ago by two celebrated greyhounds. Such was the length of the course, some of it up very steep hills, that the hare fell dead before the dogs, who were so exhausted that they only reached to within six feet of her. This was one of the severest courses ever witnessed.

On another occasion, two dogs ran a hare for several miles, and with such speed as to be very soon out of sight of the coursing party. After a considerable search, both the dogs and the hare were found dead within a few yards of each other; nor did it appear that the former had touched the hare. Mr. Daniel, in his "Rural Sports," states that a brace of greyhounds, in Lincolnshire, ran a hare from her seat to where she was killed, a distance, measuring straight, of upwards of four miles, in twelve minutes. During the course there was a good number of turns, which must have very considerably increased the space gone over. The hare ran till she died before the greyhounds touched her.

In the year 1798, a brace of greyhounds, the property of Mr. Courtall of Carlisle, coursed a hare from the Swift, near that city, and killed her at Clemmell, seven miles distant. Both greyhounds were so exhausted, that unless the aid of medical men, who happened to be on the spot, had been immediately given, they would have died, and it was with difficulty they were recovered.

In the year 1818, a black greyhound bitch, the property of Mr. John Heaton, of Scarisbrick, in Lancashire, left her master, forsook the habitation where she had been reared, betook herself to the fields and thickets, and adopted a life of unlimited freedom, defying all the restraints of man. In this state she killed a great number of hares for food, and occasionally made free with the sheep; she, therefore, very soon became a nuisance in the neighbourhood. She had taken her station at the distance of two miles from her master's house, and was generally found near this spot. In consequence of her depredations, many attempts were made to shoot her, but in vain. She eluded, for more than six months, the vigilance of her pursuers. At length she was observed to go into a barn that stood in a field which she frequented. She entered the building through a hole in the wall, and, by means of a rope-snare, was caught as she came out. On entering the barn, three whelps were found about a week old; so that in her savage state she had evidently been visited by a male of her own species. The whelps were (foolishly enough) immediately destroyed. As the bitch herself evinced the utmost ferocity, and, though well secured, vainly attempted to seize every person that approached, she was taken home, and treated with the greatest kindness. By degrees her ferocity abated, and in the course of two months she became perfectly reconciled to her original abode. The following season she ran several courses. There continued a wildness in her look; yet, although at perfect liberty, she did not attempt again to stray away, but seemed quite reconciled to her domestic life.

Few facts can show the high courage of the greyhound more than the following:—

As a gamekeeper of Lord Egremont's was leading a brace of greyhounds in couples, a hare accidentally crossed the road in view. This temptation proved so irresistible, that the dogs, by a joint effort, broke suddenly from their conductor, and gave chase, shackled as they were together. When they got up and gave the hare the first turn, it was evidently much to her advantage, as the greyhounds were so embarrassed that it was with great difficulty they could change the direction. Notwithstanding this temporary delay, they sustained no diminution of natural energy, but continued the course through and over various obstructions, till the object of their pursuit fell a victim to their invincible perseverance, after a run of between three and four miles.

In addition to the beauty, elegance, high spirit, and speed of the greyhound, may be mentioned his mild and affectionate disposition, as well as his fidelity and attachment to those who treat him with kindness. They will also show sometimes considerable sagacity, of which the following is an instance:—

Two young gentlemen went to skate, attended only by a greyhound. About the time they were expected home, the dog arrived at the house full speed, and by his great anxiety, by laying hold of the clothes of some of the inmates, and by his significant gestures, he convinced them that something was wrong. They followed the greyhound, and came to the pond. A hat was seen on the ice, near which was a fresh aperture. The bodies of the young gentlemen were soon found, but life was extinct. In this instance the sagacity of the dog was extraordinary. Had he possessed the power of speech, he could scarcely have communicated what had taken place more significantly than he did.

I have received the following anecdote from a friend, on whose veracity I can depend:—In the year 1816, a greyhound bitch in pup was sent from the neighbourhood of Edinburgh by a carrier, via Dumfries, to the neighbourhood of Castle Douglas, in the stewartry of Kirkeudbright. She brought up her litter of pups there, and in the following year was returned by the same route to Edinburgh, from whence she was sent by way of Douglas and Muirkirk to the neighbourhood of Cumnock, in Ayrshire. After remaining there five or six months, she found her way across the country to the house near Castle Douglas where she had brought up her pups. The fact of her crossing the country was ascertained by shepherds, who saw her, accompanied by a pointer-dog. She arrived, accompanied by this dog, who left her almost immediately, and found his way home again. The bitch was bred in East Lothian, and had never been previously either in Ayrshire or Dumfriesshire.

A small Italian greyhound in Bologna, which used at nights to have a kind of jacket put on, to guard him from the cold, went out generally very early in the morning to a neighbouring house, to visit another dog of the same breed which lived there. He always endeavoured, by various coaxing gestures, to prevail upon the people of the house to take off his night-jacket, in order that he might play more at ease with his companion. It once happened, when he could not get any one to do him this service, that he found means, by various contortions of his body, rubbing himself against tables and chairs, and working with his limbs, to undress himself without any other assistance. After this trial had succeeded, he continued to practise it for some time, until his master discovered it, who after that undressed him every morning, and let him out of the house. At noon, and in the evening, he always returned home. Sometimes, when he made his morning call, he found the door of the house in which his friend dwelt not yet open. In these cases he placed himself opposite to the house, and by loud barking solicited admittance. But as the noise which he made became troublesome both to the inhabitants of the house and to the neighbours, they not only kept the door shut against him, but endeavoured also to drive him away from the house by throwing stones at him from the windows. He crept, however, so close to the door, that he was perfectly secure against the stones, and now they had to drive him away with a whip. After some time the dog went again to the house, and waited without barking till the door was opened. He was again driven away, upon which he discontinued his visits for a long time. At length, however, he ventured to go once more to the house, and set up a loud barking; placing himself in a situation where he was both secure against the stones, and could not be seized by the people of the house when they opened the door.

After a considerable time, he one morning saw a boy come to the house, lay hold of the knocker, and strike it against the door, and he observed that upon this process the door was opened. After the boy had been let in, the dog crept along the side of the house to the door, and took his station upon the spot where the boy had stood when he knocked, and where no one who stood close to the door could be seen from within. Here he leaped several times at the knocker, till he raised it and made it strike the door. A person from within immediately called, "Who is there?" but receiving no answer, opened the door, upon which the dog ran in with tokens of great delight, and soon found his way to his friend. Often after this he availed himself of the fortunate discovery which he had made, and his ingenuity was so much admired that it procured him thenceforward free access to his companion's habitation.

While on the subject of greyhounds, I cannot resist the insertion of the following account of one extracted from Froissart:—

When Richard II. was confined in the Castle of Flint, he possessed a greyhound, which was so remarkably attached to him, as not to notice or fawn upon any one else. Froissart says,—"It was informed me Kynge Richard had a grayhounde, called Mathe, who always waited upon the kynge, and would know no one else. For whenever the kynge did ryde, he that kept the grayhounde did let him lose, and he wolde streyght runne to the kynge and fawne upon him, and leape with his fore-fete upon the kynge's shoulders. And as the kynge and the Erle of Derby talked togyder in the courte, the grayhounde, who was wont to leape upon the kynge, left the kynge and came to the Erle of Derby, duke of Lancaster, and made to hym the same friendly countenance and chere he was wont to do the kynge. The Duke, who knew not the grayhounde, demanded of the kynge what the grayhounde would do. 'Cosin,' quod the kynge, 'it is a great good token to you, and an evil sygne to me.' 'Sir, how know ye that?' quod the duke. 'I know it well,' quod the kynge: 'the grayhounde maketh you chere this daye as kynge of Englande, as ye shall be, and I shall be deposed; the grayhounde hath this knowledge naturally, therefore take hym to you: he will follow you and forsake me.' The duke understoode well those words, and cheryshed the grayhounde, who would never after followe Kynge Richarde, but followed the Duke of Lancaster." It is not, however, improbable, that the dog thus mentioned was the Irish wolf-dog, as the fact related is more characteristic of that noble animal.

The mild, affable, and serene aspect of the greyhound, constitutes no drawback to its innate sagacity, or grateful attention to its protector, of which the unfortunate king Charles I. was so observant, that the remark he made during his troubles is on record, and strictly just as applicable to the instinctive fidelity of the animal. He said the greyhound possessed all the good nature of the spaniel without the fawning.

Washington Irving mentions, that in the course of his reading he had fallen in with the following anecdote, which illustrates in a remarkable manner the devoted attachment of these dogs to their masters:—

"An officer named St. Leger, who was imprisoned in Vincennes (near Paris) during the wars of St. Bartholomew, wished to keep with him a greyhound that he had brought up, and which was much attached to him; but they harshly refused him this innocent pleasure, and sent away the greyhound to his house in the Rue des Lions Saint Paul. The next day the greyhound returned alone to Vincennes, and began to bark under the windows of the tower, where the officer was confined. St. Leger approached, looked through the bars, and was delighted again to see his faithful hound, who began to jump and play a thousand gambols to show her joy. He threw a piece of bread to the animal, who ate it with great good will; and, in spite of the immense wall which separated them, they breakfasted together like two friends. This friendly visit was not the last. Abandoned by his relations, who believed him dead, the unfortunate prisoner received the visits of his greyhound only, during four years' confinement. Whatever weather it might be, in spite of rain or snow, the faithful animal did not fail a single day to pay her accustomed visit. Six months after his release from prison St. Leger died. The faithful greyhound would no longer remain in the house; but on the day after the funeral returned to the castle of Vincennes, and it is supposed she was actuated by a motive of gratitude. A jailor of the outer court had always shown great kindness to this dog, which was as handsome as affectionate. Contrary to the custom of people of that class, this man had been touched by her attachment and beauty, so that he facilitated her approach to see her master, and also insured her a safe retreat. Penetrated with gratitude for this service, the greyhound remained the rest of her life near the benevolent jailor. It was remarked, that even while testifying her zeal and gratitude for her second master, one could easily see that her heart was with the first. Like those who, having lost a parent, a brother, or a friend, come from afar to seek consolation by viewing the place which they inhabited, this affectionate animal repaired frequently to the tower where St. Leger had been imprisoned, and would contemplate for hours together the gloomy window from which her dear master had so often smiled to her, and where they had so frequently breakfasted together."

The natural simplicity and peaceable demeanour of the greyhound may have sometimes induced a doubt of its possessing the sagacity, fidelity, and attachment of other dogs; but when he is kindly treated and domesticated, he is capable of showing them to an equal degree with any of the canine race.

Some of the best coursing in England takes place on the Wiltshire Downs, where it is no uncommon sight to see a hare run away from two good dogs without a single turn. Nearly three hundred years ago, Sir Philip Sidney referred to this sport on the Wiltshire Downs in one of his poems, in which he remarks:—

"So, on the downs we see, near Wilton fair, A hasten'd hare from greedy greyhounds go."

The following account of the Persian greyhound appeared in the "Book of Sports:"—

"The Persian greyhound is much esteemed in its native country, where the nobles, who are excessively fond of the chase, keep a great number of them at a considerable expense, the best and most favoured dogs frequently having their collars and housings covered with precious stones and embroidery.

"These greyhounds are employed in coursing hares in the plains, and in chasing the antelope. As the speed of the antelope is greater than that of the greyhound, the Persians train hawks for the purpose of assisting the dog in this kind of chase. The hawks when young are fed upon the head of a stuffed antelope, and thus taught to fly at that part of the animal. When the antelope is discovered, the hawk is cast off, which, fastening its talons in the animal's head, impedes its progress, and thus enables the greyhounds to overtake it. The chase, however, in which the Persians chiefly delight, and for which those greyhounds are most highly valued, is that of the ghoo-khur, or wild ass. This animal, which generally inhabits the mountainous districts, is extremely shy, and of great endurance, and is considered by the Persians as one of the swiftest of all quadrupeds. These qualities, and the nature of the ground over which it is usually chased, render the capture of the wild ass very uncertain, and its pursuit extremely hazardous to the sportsman.

"When the Persians go out to hunt the wild ass, relays of greyhounds are placed at various distances in the surrounding country, in such directions as are most likely to be traversed by the object of pursuit; so that when one relay is tired, there is another fresh to continue the chase. Such, however, is the speed and endurance of the ghoo-khur, that it is seldom fairly run down by the greyhounds; its death generally being achieved by the rifle of some lucky horseman. The Persians evince great skill and courage in this arduous sport; riding, rifle in hand, up and down precipitous hills, over stony paths, and across ravines and mountain streams, which might well daunt our boldest turf-skimming Meltonians.

"Though several Persian greyhounds have at different times been brought to this country, the breed can scarcely be considered as established here. The specimen, however, (a female), from which Mr. Hamilton painted the picture from which our engraving is taken, was bred in this country. She was then supposed to be the only Persian greyhound bitch in England."

The Persian greyhound is very handsome. "One of the finest species of dog I have ever seen," says an interesting writer, "is a sort of greyhound which the Persians rear to assist them in the chase. They have generally long silken hair upon their quarters, shoulders, ears, and tail; and I think them as handsome, and considerably more powerful and sagacious, than our own greyhounds. I have sometimes seen a spirited horse break loose, and run away at full speed, when one of these dogs has set after him like an arrow, and soon getting ahead of him, taken an opportunity of seizing the bridle in his teeth, which he held so firmly, that though he was not strong enough to stop the horse, yet, as he was dragged along, he continued to pull and confine the horse, so as to impede him very much, till some person was able to overtake and secure him."

Col. Hutchinson says, that "In Persia and many parts of the East greyhounds are taught to assist the falcon in the capture of deer. When brought within good view of a herd the bird is flown, and at the same moment the dog is slipped. The rapid sweep of the falcon soon carries him far in advance. It is the falcon who makes the selection of the intended victim—which appears to be a matter of chance—and a properly-trained greyhound will give chase to none other, however temptingly close the alarmed animals may pass him. The falcon is instructed to aim at the head only of the gazelle, who soon becomes bewildered; sometimes receiving considerable injury from the quick stroke of its daring adversary. Before long the gazelle is overtaken by the greyhound. It is not always easy to teach a dog to avoid injuring the bird, which is so intent upon its prey as utterly to disregard the approach of the hound. Death would probably be the penalty adjudged to him for so heinous an offence; for a well-trained falcon is of great value. You can readily imagine that neither it nor the greyhound could be properly broken unless the instructor possessed much judgment and perseverance. The sport is very exciting; but the spectator must be well-mounted, and ride boldly, who would closely watch the swift, varying evolutions of the assailing party, and the sudden evasions of the helpless defendant."



THE POINTER.

"The subtle dog scours with sagacious nose Along the field, and snuffs each breeze that blows; Against the wind he takes his prudent way, While the strong gale directs him to the prey. Now the warm scent assures the covey near; He treads with caution, and he points with fear. The fluttering coveys from the stubble rise, And on swift wing divide the sounding skies; The scatt'ring lead pursues the certain sight, And death in thunder overtakes their flight."—GAY.

This dog has been crossed and re-crossed so often with the fox-hound, the setter, and the old Spanish pointer, that the originality of the present breed may be questioned, especially as the pointer has been less noticed by writers on dogs than any other of the species. How well do I recollect in my early youth seeing the slow, heavy, solemn-looking, and thick-shouldered Spanish pointer, tired with two or three hours' work in turnips, and so stiff after it the next day, as to be little capable of resuming his labours. And yet this dog, fifty years ago, was to be met with all through England. How different is the breed at the present time! By crossing with the fox-hound, they have acquired wonderful speed, and a power of endurance equally surprising, while their shape is beautiful and their sense and animation strongly marked in their intelligent countenances.

The old pointers were either nearly white or variegated with large liver-coloured patches. We now see them either completely liver-coloured, or of a flea-bitten blue or grey, or else black, with fine sterns showing much blood, and extremely thin ears. There can be no doubt but that the crosses by which they have obtained the qualities and appearance I have mentioned, render the task of breaking them in to point, back, and drop to charge, one of no small difficulty. These habits, having been acquired in the original breed, had probably become hereditary; but the mixture with dogs which had not these inherent qualities, has introduced volatility and impatience not easily to be overcome. It is also a fact, that if a pointer, notwithstanding this disposition, should at last become perfectly well broke in, or, as it is called, highly broke, he loses much of his natural sagacity. His powers of endurance are, however, very great. A friend of mine, an ardent sportsman, had a pointer crossed with a foxhound, and it was the only one he had. Day after day he took this dog out with him, from day-break till late in the evening, and he never flagged or showed fatigue. It was calculated that he could not traverse less than one hundred and twenty miles each day. This dog showed extraordinary sagacity. While hunting in a large fallow field he made a point, and then slowly and cautiously proceeded, closely followed by his master. In this way he led him over a good part of the field, till it was supposed the dog was drawing on the scent of a hare, which had stolen away. At last he set off running as hard as he could, made a large circuit to the left, and then came to a point immediately opposite to his master, who then advanced and put up a covey of birds between him and the dog.

The following is a proof of the perfection to which pointers may be brought. The friend above referred to went out shooting with a gentleman celebrated for the goodness of his breed. They took the field with eight of these dogs. If one pointed, all the rest immediately backed steadily. If a partridge was shot, they all dropped to charge, and whichsoever dog was called to bring the bird, the rest never stirred till they were told to do so. Dogs thus broke in are of great value, and bring large prices; from fifty to a hundred guineas have been given for a good dog.

Pointers frequently show extraordinary sense, especially in their own peculiar vocation. Thus a pointer has been known to refuse to hunt for a person who had previously missed every bird the dog had found. He left him with every mark of disgust, nor could any coaxing induce him to continue with his unsportsman-like companion.

Three pointers were taken out grouse-shooting in Ireland. They were all of the same breed, or rather nearly related to each other, one being the grandmother, the other her daughter, and the third her granddaughter. The latter, who could get over the ground quicker than the others, put up first one pack of grouse, and then another, for which faults she was flogged again and again. Having done the same thing the third time, the steady old grandmother was so provoked, that she ran at the culprit, knocked her over and over, and did not cease to attack her till she had driven her home. The authenticity of this anecdote need not be doubted. It is a proof of the extraordinary sense of a dog, and is corroborated by a fact already mentioned in the introductory remarks (p. 33), of one dog attacking another for having misconducted himself.

Some very bad shots went out partridge-shooting, attended by a very good, old, steady pointer. After shooting for some hours with very little success, they began to amuse themselves by firing at a piece of paper stuck on a post. The disgust of the old dog at this proceeding may be imagined—he ran home.

In further proof of the dislike a pointer will show to a bad shot, I will adduce the following anecdote mentioned by Captain Brown. A gentleman, on his requesting the loan of a pointer-dog from a friend, was informed by him that the dog would behave very well so long as he could kill his birds; but if he frequently missed them, it would run home and leave him. The dog was sent, and the following day was fixed for trial; but, unfortunately, his new master was a remarkably bad shot. Bird after bird rose and was fired at, but still pursued its flight untouched, till, at last, the pointer became careless, and often missed his game. As if seemingly willing, however, to give one chance more, he made a dead stop at a fern-bush, with his nose pointed downward, the fore-foot bent, and his tail straight and steady. In this position he remained firm till the sportsman was close to him, with both barrels cocked, then moving steadily forward for a few paces, he at last stood still near a bunch of heather, the tail expressing the anxiety of the mind by moving regularly backwards and forwards. At last out sprung a fine old blackcock. Bang, bang, went both barrels, but the bird escaped unhurt. The patience of the dog was now quite exhausted; and, instead of dropping to charge, he turned boldly round, placed his tail between his legs, gave one howl, long and loud, and set off as fast as he could to his own home.

I have seen a pointer leap on the top of a high gate, in going from one field to another, and remain steadily there till I came up to him. He had suddenly come on the scent of birds, and made his point from his uncomfortable situation on the gate. Captain Brown also relates a nearly similar instance of the stanchness of a pointer, which he received from a friend of his. This gentleman was shooting in Scotland, when one of his dogs, in going over a stone wall, about four feet high, got the scent of some birds on the other side of the wall, just as she made the leap. She hung by her fore-legs, appearing at a distance as if they had got fastened among the stones, and that she could not extricate herself. In this position she remained until her master came up. It was then evident that it was her caution for fear of flushing some birds on the other side of the wall, which prevented her from taking the leap, or rather, which was the cause of her making this extraordinary point.

Mr. Daniel, in his "Rural Sports," mentions the circumstance of two pointers having stood at one point an hour and a quarter, while an artist took a sketch of them.

A dog of the pointer kind, brought from South Carolina in an English merchant vessel, was a remarkable prognosticator of bad weather. Whenever he was observed to prick up his ears, scratch the deck, and rear himself to look to the windward, whence he would eagerly snuff up the wind, if it was then the finest weather imaginable, the crew were sure of a tempest succeeding; and the dog became so useful, that whenever they perceived the fit upon him, they immediately reefed the sails, and took in their spare canvas, to prepare for the worst. Other animals are prognosticators of weather also; and there is seldom a storm at sea, but it is foretold by some of the natural marine barometers on board, many hours before the gale.

The following circumstance serves also to prove the extreme stanchness of a pointer. It is related by Captain Brown:—

"A servant who used to shoot for Mr. Clutterbuck of Bradford, had, on one occasion, a pointer of this gentleman's, which afforded him an excellent day's sport. On returning, the night being dark, he dropped, by some chance, two or three birds out of his bag, and on coming home he missed them. Having informed a fellow-servant of his loss, he requested him to get up early the next morning, and seek for them near the turnpike, being certain that he had brought them as far as that place. The man accordingly went there, and not a hundred yards from the spot mentioned by his companion, he, to his surprise, found the pointer lying near the birds, and where he probably had remained all night, although the poor animal had been severely hunted the day before."

For the following instance of the sagacity of a pointer, I am indebted to Lord Stowell. Mr. Edward Cook, after having lived some time with his brother at Tugsten, in Northumberland, went to America, and took with him a pointer-dog, which he lost soon afterwards, while shooting in the woods near Baltimore. Some time after, Mr. and Mrs. Cook, who continued to reside at Tugsten, were alarmed at hearing a dog in the night. They admitted it into the house, and found that it was the same their brother had taken with him to America. The dog lived with them until his master returned home, when they mutually recognised each other. Mr. Cook was never able to trace by what vessel the dog had left America, or in what part of England it had been landed. This anecdote confirms others which I have already mentioned relative to dogs finding their way back to this country from considerable distances.

Lieutenant Shipp, in his Memoirs, mentions the case of a soldier in India, who, having presented his dog to an acquaintance, by whom he was taken a distance of four hundred miles, was surprised to see him back in a few days afterwards. When the faithful animal returned, he searched through the whole barracks for his master, and at length finding him asleep, he awoke him by licking his face.

Pointers have been known to go out by themselves for the purpose of finding game, and when they have succeeded, have returned to their master, and by significant signs and gestures have led them directly to the spot.

The mental faculties of pointers are extremely acute. When once they become conscious of their own powers, and of what is required of them, they seldom commit a fault, and do their duty with alacrity and devotion. Old pointers are apt to hunt the hedgerows of a field before they begin to quarter the ground. I have seen dogs severely rated and punished for doing this, but the cause is obvious. They are aware that game is more frequently to be found in hedgerows than in the open ground, and therefore very naturally take the readiest way of finding it.

An interesting exhibition of clever dogs took place in London in the summer of 1843, under the auspices of M. Leonard, a French gentleman of scientific attainments and enlightened character, who had for some years directed his attention to the reasoning powers of animals, and their cultivation. Two pointers, Braque and Philax, had been the especial objects of his instruction, and their intellectual capacities had been excited in an extraordinary degree. A writer in the "Atlas" newspaper thus speaks of the exhibition of these animals:—M. Leonard's dogs are not merely clever, well-taught animals, which, by dint of practice, can pick up a particular letter, or can, by a sort of instinct, indicate a number which may be asked for; they call into action powers which, if not strictly intellectual, approximate very closely to reason. For instance, they exert memory. Four pieces of paper were placed upon the floor, which the company numbered indiscriminately, 2, 4, 6, 8. The numbers were named but once, and yet the dogs were able to pick up any one of them at command, although they were not placed in regular order. The numbers were then changed, with a similar result. Again, different objects were placed upon the floor, and when a similar thing—say a glove—was exhibited, one or other of the animals picked it up immediately. The dogs distinguish colours, and, in short, appear to understand everything that is said to them.

The dog Braque plays a game of dominoes with any one who likes. We are aware that this has been done before; but when it is considered that it is necessary to distinguish the number of spots, it must be admitted that this requires the exercise of a power little inferior to reason. The dog sits on the chair with the dominoes before him, and when his adversary plays, he scans each of his dominoes with an air of attention and gravity which is perfectly marvellous. When he could not match the domino played, he became restless and shook his head, and gave other indications of his inability to do so. No human being could have paid more attention. The dog seemed to watch the game with deep interest, and what is more, he won.

Another point strongly indicative of the close approach to the reasoning powers, was the exactness with which the dogs obeyed an understood signal. It was agreed that when three blows were struck upon a chair, Philax should do what was requested; and when five were given, that the task should devolve on Braque. This arrangement was strictly adhered to. We do not intend to follow the various proofs which were afforded of the intelligence of the dogs; it is sufficient to say that a multiplicity of directions given to them were obeyed implicitly, and that they appeared to understand what their master said as well as any individual in the room.

M. Leonard entered into a highly-interesting explanation of his theory regarding the intellectual powers of animals, and the mode he adopts to train and subdue horses, exhibiting the defects of the system generally pursued. His principle is, that horses are not vicious by nature, but because they have been badly taught, and that, as with children, these defects may be corrected by proper teaching. M. Leonard does not enter into these inquiries for profit, but solely with a scientific and humane view, being desirous of investigating the extent of the reasoning powers of animals.

It does not appear possible that dogs should be educated to the extent of those of M. Leonard, unless we can suppose that they acquire a tolerably exact knowledge of language. That they in reality learn to know the meaning of certain words, not merely when addressed to them, but when spoken in ordinary conversation, is beyond a doubt; although the accompanying looks and movements in all likelihood help them in their interpretation. We have known a small spaniel, for instance, which thoroughly understood the meaning of "out," or "going out," when spoken in the most casual way in conversation. A lady of our acquaintance has a dog which lives at enmity with another dog in the neighbourhood, called York, and angrily barks when the word York is pronounced in his hearing.

A well-known angler was in the habit of being attended by a pointer-dog, who saved him the trouble of a landing-net in his trout-fishing excursions. When he had hooked a fish and brought it near the bank, the dog would be in readiness, and taking the fish behind the head, would bring it out to his master.

A writer, who endeavours to prove the existence of souls analogous to the human in animals, relates the following remarkable fact, of which he was himself an eye-witness. He says:—

"I was with a gentleman who resides in the country, in his study, when a pointer-dog belonging to him came running to the door of the room, which was shut, scratching and barking till he was admitted. He then used supplicating gestures of every kind, running from his master to the stair behind which his gun stood, then again to his master, and back to the gun. The gentleman now comprehended something of his dog's meaning, and took up his gun. The dog immediately gave a bark of joy, ran out at the door, returned, and then ran to the back-door of the house, from whence he took the road to a neighbouring hill.

"His master and I followed him. The dog ran, highly pleased, a little distance before us, showing us the way we should take. After we had proceeded about forty paces, he gave us to understand that we should turn to the left, by pressing repeatedly against his master, and pushing him towards the road that turned to the left. We followed his direction, and he accompanied us a few paces, but suddenly he turned to the right, running round the whole of the hill. We still proceeded to the left, slowly up the ascent, till we were nearly arrived at its summit, the dog in the meantime making the circuit of the hill to the right. He was now already higher than we were, when he gave a sudden bark, and that moment a hare ran before the muzzle of his master's gun, and, of course, met her fate."