Dog stories, from the "Spectator";

UNIVERSITY OF
CALIFORNIA

SAN DIEGO

DOG STORIES.

SOME PRESS OPINIONS ON THE FIRST EDITION.

" Mr. St. Loe Strachey has here collected a very interesting series of
anecdotes." — Times.

" The book is sure of a warm welcome." — Athenaeum.

" The book is interesting to all lovers of dogs, and their name is
legion, and there are statements in its pages which might profitably
engage the attention of men of science and students of philosophy.
' Dog Stories ' ought to gallop with the swiftness of a greyhound into a
second edition." — Speaker.

"An amusing book, which is certain to find a welcome, at all
events at the hands of two men out of three." — Standard.

" The book will be of real interest to all who care for dogs or the
study of character in general." — Morning Post.

" The contents of this book are entertaining and remarkable."

Daily Telegraph.

" The ' Dog Stories ' collected from the Spectator, and with an in-
troduction written by J. St. Loe Strachey, are indeed most delightful,
and a collection of tales that all dog-lovers will be sure to appreciate
and enjoy." — Gentlewoman.

"Of real importance to students of the instincts and habits of
animal*." — Nature.

" Suggestive and profoundly interesting. Mr. Strachey has done
his task well."— Admiralty and Horse Guards Gazette.

" These are extraordinary and well-authenticated anecdotes, which
will doubtless be eagerly read by lovers of pets, and students of animal
life."— Christian World.

"This is certainly the best collection of dog stories that has ever
been published."— Star.

" Alike provocative of wonder, laughter and tears."

N.B. Daily Mail.

DOG STORIES

FROM THE "SPECTATOR

BEING ANECDOTES OF THE INTELLIGENCE, REASON-
ING POWER, AFFECTION AND SYMPATHY OF
DOGS, SELECTED FROM THE CORRESPON-
DENCE COLUMNS OF "THE SPECTATOR"

WITH AN INTRODUCTION

BY

J. ST. LOE STRACHEY

Second and Enlarged Edition.

T. FISHER UNWIN
1896

' Sir, to leave things out of a book,

merely because people tell you they

will not be believed, is meanness."

(Dr. Johnson.)

All rights reserved.

CONTENTS.

PAGE

PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION . . .1

INTRODUCTION ..... ^

SYLLOGISTIC DOGS . . . . . 1$

THE REASONING POWER OF DOGS ... 49

EMOTION AND SENTIMENT IN DOGS . . .99

DOGS AND THE ARTS . . . . Iig

DOG FRIENDSHIPS . . . . .13!

CURIOUS HABITS OF DOGS . . . .155

THE SENSE OF HUMOUR AND CUNNING IN DOGS . 165
USEFUL DOGS. ..... 177

MISCELLANEOUS . . . . . .193

ADDITIONAL STORIES.

DOGS AND HUMAN SPEECH . . . .261

DOGS AND THEIR POWER TO FEEL EMOTION . 271

BOB, THE AUSTRALIAN RAILWAY DOG . . 287

MORE MISCELLANEOUS STORIES. . . .299

PREFACE TO THE SECOND
EDITION.

THE kindness with which " Dog Stories
from the Spectator" has been received by
the public, has made it necessary to issue a
second edition. This affords me an oppor-
tunity of including some further examples of
intelligence in dogs which have appeared in
the Spectator since the formation of the
original collection. Some of these new
stories, it will I think be agreed, are quite
as good as any of those previously published.
Of very special interest are the anecdotes
which I have placed together under the title
of " Dogs and Human Speech." If we accept
these stories as trustworthy, they seem to
ieave little doubt that many dogs are very
far advanced in the understanding of human
language. If, however, we reject this, the

ii PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION.

simple and straightforward explanation of
the evidence afforded by the letters, we must
choose one or other of the following solutions
of the problem. These stories may of course
all be (i) hoaxes ; (2) instances of faulty
observation ; (3) coincidences, i.e., the chance
linking of the utterance of certain words
with certain acts by dogs, though in reality
the words and acts had nothing to do with
each other ; (4) hallucination on the part of
the reporters — they were so convinced that
the dogs could understand, that they ima-
gined the dogs to do things which in reality
they never did. Now, it must be observed
that each of these explanations would be,
primd facie, perfectly tenable if there were
only one story of a dog understanding human
speech. But it is difficult to see how any of
them will hold good for all the instances re-
corded, both in the new and in the old portion
of the present book. It cannot seriously be
maintained that all the stories are hoaxes,
or that all the reporters were incapable
of relating what they saw, or, again, that
all the facts stated were due to mere co-

PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION iii

incidence or to hallucination. As far as
I can see, the evidence shows that dogs
do understand a good deal of human
speech, though how they learn it remains a
mystery. But in reality, and in practice,
everyone admits this ability to understand
human speech in the dog, though strenu-
ous protests in the name of common-sense
are made the moment anyone ventures to
face the fact and put it boldly forward.
Nobody doubts that a dog knows his own
name and answers to it when called. But
what is this but understanding human
speech ? If every dog can do this, why
should not some dogs of exceptional quick-
ness learn more than the one word, and so
get a wider knowledge of human speech?
Surely it is only the first word that matters.
After that, knowing the whole dictionary is
only a matter of degree. But though dogs
seem able to understand our language, it is
very curious to notice how utterly we fail to
understand theirs. This point has been
touched on by that able and eminent Judge
of the Queen's Bench Division, Sir Henry

iv PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION.

Hawkins. In a letter by him, printed in
a little pamphlet which contains the bio-
graphy of his fox-terrier Jack, Sir Henry
Hawkins declares that his dog " understood
all I said to him as though I spoke his own
language, which not being accomplished
enough to converse in I nevertheless
thoroughly understood." Now, with all due
deference to the learned Judge, I doubt very
much whether he did understand Jack half
as well as Jack understood him. If he did,
he was certainly exceptionally fortunate.
Men who own dogs no doubt get to know
roughly what a bark at this or that time is
likely to mean, but they seldom go further
than this. Who ever heard two dogs bark-
ing together and understood that Jack was
saying to Grip, " I mean to run away to-
morrow ? " Yet as much as this ought to be
understood by the man who would under-
stand dog talk, as well as the probationary
fox-terrier in the story headed "The Dog
that heard he did not give satisfaction " — a
story which is to be found among the new
anecdotes at the end of the present volume.

PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION, v

Depend upon it, even Sir Henry Hawkins
has not yet reached that pitch of knowledge,
and though he doubtless understood Jack
better than anyone else, I feel sure that Jack,
as I have said, took in much more of his
conversation than he did of Jack's. But it
is far easier to point out our ignorance of
dog language, than to suggest a means for
surmounting that ignorance. Dogs are not
like apes or rooks, of a conversational turn,
and though they clearly communicate a great
deal to each other, it is difficult to see how
their language is to be studied. I doubt if
the American professor's plan would be of
much use, or if phonography in the kennels
would give us any facts to work on.

Among the new stories in the present
edition will be found a further series illustrat-
ing the power of dogs to feel the emotions of
grief and of devotion for each other. There
are also some interesting letters making up a
fairly complete biography of Bob, the Austra-
lian Railway dog. Under the heading " More
Miscellaneous," will be found some exceed-
ingly strange and amusing stories. The story

vi PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION.

of the Religious Dog and the Pagan Cat is
quite excellent as a piece of humour, while
the Praying Dog suggests a strange picture
of sanctimonious canine priggishness. Crib's
biography is also not a little curious. I have
only to add my reason for not distributing
the new stories as far as possible under their
appropriate headings in the body of the book.
This would, I admit, have been the logical
and natural course. There were, however,
two objections. First, there exist, I am
given to understand, typographical difficulties
which, if not insurmountable, are serious.
Next, a reader of the first edition who might
come across the second and wish to see what
was fresh, would be much puzzled to get at
the new stuff. It would therefore probably
be his wish that the added stories should be
grouped together at the end. But a reader
of the first edition is clearly an old friend,
and must have his wishes consulted, espe-
cially when doing so does not interfere with
the enjoyment of him who reads for the first
time in the second issue of these stories.

INTRODUCTION.

I.

THE following Dog Stories are taken from
the pages of the Spectator, with the per-
mission of the editors and proprietors.
It was suggested to me by Mr. Fishei
Unwin that the many strange and pleasant
stories of dogs which from time to time
are sent to the Spectator by its corre-
spondents would, if put together, form a
volume of no little entertainment for all
who love dogs, or are interested in stories
of animal intelligence. Up till now the
Spectator dog stories, after the week of
their publication, have practically been in-
accessible to the general reader ; for he is a
bold man who will attack a bound volume
of a newspaper in search of amusement.
Though I at once agreed that the suggested

8 INTRODUCTION.

book would be a very readable one, and
likely to please dog-lovers all the world
over, I did not, till the selection was nearly
made, realise how much the stories gain by
being grouped together. A single story
of a clever dog may amuse, but it is liable
to be put aside as an accident, a coincidence,
a purely exceptional circumstance which
proves nothing. If, however, instead of
a single story we have half a dozen illus-
trating the same form of intelligence, the
value of the evidence is enormously in-
creased, and a collection of dog stories
may become of very great value in deter-
mining such questions as the power of dogs
to act on reason as well as on instinct,
or their ability to understand human lan-
guage. The solution of these problems is, I
cannot help thinking, materially advanced
by the stories in the present book. Take,
again, the group of stories which I have
labelled Purchasing Dogs. One sample of
this kind might, as I have noted above, be
put off as a case of imperfect observation,
or as a curious coincidence ; but when we

INTRODUCTION. 9

get a whole group of stories it becomes very
difficult to doubt that dogs may learn the
first principles of the science of exchange.
The Italian dog (page 59) which did the
narrator a service by fetching him cigars,
demanded payment in the shape of a penny,
and then used that penny by exchanging it
for a loaf, was far advanced in the practice
of Political Economy. He not only under-
stood and acted on an implied contract,
but realised the great fact at the back of
the currency. " What are guineas," said
Home Tooke, " but tickets for sheep and
oxen!" The Italian dog did not, like a
savage, say, " What is the use of copper to
me, I cannot eat it?" Instead, he perceived
that the piece of copper was a ticket for
bread. It should be noted too that this
dog, the dog called Hardy (page 57) and
others, were able to distinguish between
the pieces of copper given them. Again,
the Glasgow story (page 53) shows that a
dog can learn to realise that a halfpenny
will buy not merely one thing but several
things — in fact, that the great advantage of

io INTRODUCTION.

exchange by currency over barter is that
it gives you a choice. While on the subject
of purchasing dogs, it is curious to reflect
how very little is wanted to convert the dog
that is able to purchase into a free agent.
If a dog can exchange his faculty for cigar
carrying or his tricks against half-pence,
why should he not exchange useful services,
such as guarding a house or herding sheep,
and so become self-supporting ? Imagine a
collie paid by the day, and, when his work
was over, receiving twopence and going oft
to buy his supper. But the vista opened is
too far-reaching. One sees down it dogs
paid by the hour and by the piece, and then
dogs asking for better pay and shorter hours,
and, finally, dogs on strike, and dog " black-
legs," or "free dogs."

II.

A word should be said as to the authenticity
of the stories in the present volume. It is
a matter of common form for the evening
newspapers to talk of the Spectator dog
stories as hoaxes, and to refer in their

INTRODUCTION. n

playful, way to " another Spectator dog."
It might not then unnaturally have been
supposed that a person undertaking to edit
and reprint these stories would have found
a considerable number that showed signs
of being hoaxes. I may confess, indeed,
that I set out with the notion of forming
a sort of Appendix to the present work,
which should be headed " Ben Trovato,"
in which should be inserted stories which
were too curious and amusing to be left
out altogether, but which, on the other
hand, were what the Americans call a little
" too tall " to be accepted as genuine. The
result of my plan was unexpected. Though
I found many stories in which the inferences
seemed strained or mistaken, and others
which contained indications of exaggeration,
I could find but two stories which could
reasonably be declared as only suitable for
a " Ben Trovato." I therefore suppressed
my heading. The truth is that the animal
stories are much more carefully sifted at
the Spectator office than our witty critics
and contemporaries will admit. No stories

12 INTRODUCTION.

are ever published unless the names and
addresses of the writers are supplied, and all
stories are rejected which have anything
clearly suspicious about them. What the
editors of the Spectator do not do is to reject
a dog-story because it states that a dog has
been observed to do something which has
never been reported as having been done
by a dog before, or at any rate, something
which is not universally admitted to be doable
by a dog. Apparently this willingness to
print stories which enlarge our notions of
animal intelligence is regarded in certain
quarters as a sign that the Spectator will
swallow anything, and that its stories must
be apocryphal. I cannot, however, help
thinking that all who care for the advance-
ment of knowledge in regard to animals
should be grateful to the editors of the
Spectator for not adopting the plan of ex-
cluding all dog stories that do not correspond
with an abstract ideal of canine intelligence.
Had they acted on the principle of putting
every anecdote that seemed prima facie un-
likely into the waste- paper basket, they would

INTRODUCTION. 13

certainly have missed a great many stories of
real value. In truth, there is nothing so cre-
dulous as universal incredulity. An attitude
of general incredulity means a blind belief
in the existing state of opinion. If we
believe that animals have no reasoning
power, and refuse to examine evidence that
is brought to show the contrary, we are
adopting, the attitude of those who disbelieve
that the earth goes round the sun because
they seem daily to see a proof of an exactly
opposite proposition. If people are to refuse
to believe anything of a dog that does not
sound likely on the face of it, we shall never
get at the truth about animal intelligence.
What is wanted is the careful preservation
and collection of instances of exceptional in-
telligence.

III.

Before I conclude this Introduction, I
should like to address a word of apology
to the correspondents of the Spectator whose
letters form the present volume. Though the
copyright of the letters belongs to the editors

I4 INTRODUCTION.

and proprietors of the Spectator I should
have liked to ask the leave of the various
writers before republishing their letters.
Physical difficulties have, however rendered
this impossible. In the case of nearly half
the letters the names and addresses have not
been preserved. In many instances, again,
only the names remain. Lastly, a large
number of the letters are ten or twelve, or
even twenty years old, and the writers may
therefore be dead or out of England. Under
these circumstances I have not made any
effort to enter into communication with the
writers before including their letters in this
book. That their permission would have been
given, had it been asked, I do not doubt. The
original communication of the letters to the
Spectator is proof that the writers wished a
public use to be made of the anecdotes they
relate. As long, then, as the letters are not
altered or edited, but produced verbatim,
I may, I think, feel assured that I am doing
nothing which is even remotely discourteous
to the writers.

SYLLOGISTIC DOGS.

A DOG ON LONG SERMONS.

Ha

[Aug. 4, 1888.]

DURING a recent journey in Canada, I met
with a striking instance of reason in a dog.
I was staying at the Mohawk Indian Insti-
tution, Brantford, Ontario. The Rev. R.
Ashton, superintendent of the school, is also
incumbent of the neighbouring Mohawk
Church (the oldest Protestant church in
Canada). Mr. Ashton is very fond of
animals, and has many pets. One of these,
a black-and-tan terrier, always accompanies
the ninety Indian children to church on
Sunday morning. He goes to the altar-rails,
and lies down facing the congregation.
When they rise to sing, he rises ; and when
they sit, he lies down. One day, shortly
before my visit, a stranger-clergyman was
preaching, and the sermon was longer than
usual. The dog grew tired and restless, and
at last a thought occurred to him, upon

i8 DOG STORIES

which he at once acted. He had observed
that one of the elder Indian boys was accus-
tomed to hand round a plate for alms, after
which the service at once concluded. He
evidently thought that if he could persuade
this boy to take up the collection, the sermon
must naturally end. He ran down to the
back seat occupied by the boy, seated him-
self in the aisle, and gazed steadfastly in the
boy's face. Finding that no notice was
taken, he sat up and "begged" persistently
for some time, to Mr. Ashton's great amuse-
ment. Finally, as this also failed, the dog
put his nose under the lad's knee, and tried
with all his strength to force him out of his
place, continuing this at intervals till the
sermon was concluded.

Did not this prove a distinct power of
consecutive reasoning ?

A. H. A.

FROM THE "SPECTATOR" 19

A COMMERCIAL TREATY
BETWEEN A DOG AND A HEN.

\July 7, 1888.]

YOUR dog-loving readers may be interested
in the following instance of animal sagacity.
Bob is a fine two-year-old mastiff, with
head and face of massive strength, heightened
by great mildness of expression. One day
he was seen carrying a hen, very gently, in
his mouth, to the kennel. Placing her in
one corner, he stood sentry while she laid
an egg, which he at once devoured. From
that day the two have been fast friends, the
hen refusing to lay anywhere but in " Bob's "
kennel, and getting her reward in the dainty
morsels from his platter. There must have
been a bit of canine reasoning here. " Bob"
must have found eggs to his liking, that they
were laid by hens, and that he could best
secure a supply by having a hen to himself.
THOMAS HAMER.

20 DOG STORIES

A DOG NURSE.

[Feb. 20, 1875.]

A PATIENT recently consulted me who was
blind and subject to fits. I pointed out to
her friends the danger to which she was
exposed in case a fit came on when she was
in the vicinity of a fire, and they informed
me that she incurred little or no risk, because
a favourite dog ran at once and fetched
assistance the moment a fit came on. This
intelligent animal would rush into the next
house barking eagerly, would seize the dress
of the woman who lived there, and drag her
to the assistance of his mistress. If one did
not go, he would seize another, and exhibited
the most lively symptoms of distress until his
object was accomplished.
CHARLES BELL TAYLOR, M.D., F.R.C.S.

FROM THE "SPECTATOR? 21

INSTINCT, OR REASON?

[Sept. i, 1888.]

THE following incident in dog-life may per-
haps find a place in the Spectator. I quote
from a letter received a few days ago from
my nephew, " T. G. T.," resident in South
Africa : — " Johannesburg, Traansvaal. — My
dog Cherry has had three great pups, and
I had to leave her behind at the Grange.
When I was going away, Cherry and the
pups were located in some stables. She
came out and watched the tent-truck and
my things packed up. Presently I went
away, and when I came back I found
Cherry had carried all the pups on to the
top of my luggage, and evidently had not
the least intention of staying behind."

T. W. T.

22 DOG STORIES

HOSPITAL DOGS.

\June 26, 1875.]

DR. WALTER F. ATLEE writes to the editor
of the Philadelphia Medical Times : —

" In a letter recently received from Lan-
caster, where my father resides, it is said : —
1 A queer thing occurred just now. Father
was in the office, and heard a dog yelping
outside the door ; he paid no attention until
a second and louder yelp was heard, when
he opened it, and found a little brown dog
standing on the step upon three legs. He
brought him in, and on examining the fourth
leg, found a pin sticking in it. He drew out
the pin, and the dog ran away again.' The
office of my father, Dr Atlee, is not directly
on the street, but stands back, having in
front of it some six feet of stone wall with
a gate. I will add, that it has not been
possible to discover anything more about
this dog.

" This story reminds me of something
similar that occurred to me while studying
medicine in this same office nearly thirty

FROM THE "SPECTATOR." 23

years ago. A man, named Cosgrove, the
keeper of a low tavern near the railroad
station, had his arm broken, and came many
times to the office to have the dressings
arranged. He was always accompanied by
a large, most ferocious-looking bull-dog, that
watched me most attentively, and most un-
pleasantly to me, while bandaging his
master's arm. A few weeks after Cosgrove's
case was discharged, I heard a noise at the
office door, as if some animal was pawing it,
and on opening it, saw there this huge bull-
dog, accompanied by another dog that held
up one of its front legs, evidently broken.
They entered the office. I cut several
pieces of wood, and fastened them firmly
to the leg with adhesive plaster, after
straightening the limb. They left imme-
diately. The dog that came with Cosgrove's
dog I never saw before nor since."

Do not these stories adequately show that
the dogs reasoned and drew new inferences
from a new experience ?

B.

24 DOG STORIES

{April 6, 1889.]

KNOWING your interest in dogs, I venture to
send you the following story. A week or
two ago, the porter of the Bristol Royal
Infirmary was disturbed one morning about
6.30 by the howling of a dog outside the
building. Finding that it continued, he went
out and tried to drive it away ; but it re-
turned and continued to howl so piteously,
that he was obliged to go out to it again.
This time he observed that one of its paws
was injured. He therefore brought it in
and sent for two nurses, who at once dressed
the paw, and were rewarded by every canine
sign of gratitude, including much licking of
their hands. The patient was " retained "
for two days, during which time he received
every attention from those inside the house,
and from the neighbours outside, who quickly
heard of the case. As no one appeared to
claim the dog, he was sent to the Home for
Lost Dogs in the city, where so interesting
an animal was, of course, not long in finding
a purchaser. The dog was one of those
called " lurchers."

FROM THE " SPECTATOR? 25

I have myself called on the porter of the
infirmary for confirmation of the story, and
am assured by him of its truth. How did
an apparently friendless dog know where to
go for surgical aid ? The case differs from
that of the dog which took its friend for
treatment to King's College Hospital in
London, for I understand that the King's
College dog had previously been taken to
the hospital for treatment itself ; but in this
case there is no such clue.

HELEN M. STURGE.

26 DOG STORIES

FEATURES IN THE CHARACTER
OF A DOG.

[June 10, 1876.]

FOR some time past I have noticed in your
journal letters and articles referring to the
wonderful powers of dogs. As I was myself
much struck by many features in the cha-
racter of a dog which I knew, illustrating, as
I think, not only affection, but reasoning
faculties, I shall acquaint you with a few of
these, believing that they may be interesting,
at least to all admirers of that noble animal.

The dog of which I speak was a terrier.
It showed its affection in the most marked
manner in several ways. Every morning, as
soon as it got out of the kitchen, it came
to its master's door, and if not admitted and
caressed about the usual hour, gave evident
signs of impatience. It would lie quiet till it
thought the time had arrived, but never
longer. Afterwards it went to the breakfast-
room, and occupied its master's chair till he
arrived. On one occasion a visitor was in
the house, who, coming first into the room,

FROM THE " SPECTATOR." 27

ordered the dog to come off the best chair.
To this it paid no attention, and when
threatened with expulsion, at once prepared
for defence. But as soon as its master
appeared it resigned its place voluntarily,
and quietly stretched itself on the rug at his
feet.

At another time it was left for three weeks
during its master's absence from home. It
saw him leave in a steamer, and every day
until his return it repaired to the quay upon
the arrival of the same boat, expecting him
to come again in the one by which he had
gone. It distinguished between a number of
boats, always selecting the right one and the
right hour.

One evening it accompanied its master
when he went to gather mussels for bait.
As the tide was far in, few mussels remained
uncovered ; and after collecting all within
reach, more were required. A large bunch
lay a few feet from the water's edge, but
beyond reach ; yet as the dog was not one
of those who take the water to fetch, its
master had no expectation that it would

28 DOG STORIES

prove useful on the present occasion. Seeing
him looking at the mussels, however, it first
took a good look at those in the basket, and
then, without being directed at all, went into
the water. Selecting the right bunch from
amongst the stones and wreck with which it
was surrounded, it brought it to land, and
laid it at its master's feet. This, I think, is
a proof of reason, rather than of instinct.
The dog had never been trained to go into the
sea, and would not probably have brought
out the mussels had it not seen that they
were wanted.

It showed wonderful instinct, however,
just before the death of one of its pups, and
before its own death. Its pup had not been
thriving, and the mother gave unmistakable
proof that she foresaw its death. She dug a
grave for it and put it in. Nor, when it was
removed, would she let it lie beside her, but
immediately dug another grave, where she
was less likely to be disturbed. Upon the
day of her own death, also, she used what
strength she had to dig her grave, in which
she lay, preferring to die in it, than in what

FROM THE "SPECTATOR? 29

would seem to most a place of greater
comfort.1

These may not be singular incidents, but
they are still remarkable and worthy of
notice. They serve to show us the wonder-
ful nature of man's faithful friend, the dog,
and how he has many traits of character
fitted to make him the worthy receiver of
kindness and respect.

T.

1 It is difficult to accept T.'s explanation of the
dog's object in digging. Possibly its aim was to
obtain warmth or shelter.

3o DOG STORIES

BULLY'S SHORT CUT.

[Aug. 29, 1874.]

I SEE that you welcome all notes of interest
upon our fellow-beings, the dogs. Here is
one that seems to prove they have a sense of
time and of distance as measured by time.

I was walking with my bull-terrier, Bully
(seven years old last Christmas), during a
hot afternoon this month homewards along
the Bund (Shanghai), and I suddenly missed
him. I turned back for twenty or thirty
yards, and, not finding him, I gave up the
search, saying, "He knows the way home
well enough." Presently I saw him on my
right, dripping with water, cantering on at a
round pace, without looking about him,
homewards. I watched him, curious to see
whether he would go straight home. No.
He kept on till he reached the distance of
about 150 yards, and looked ahead, not
smelling the ground. He then deliberately
walked back, catching sight of me in about
twenty yards after his turning back, and
wagged his tale recognisingly. He had

FROM THE " SPECTA TOR? 3 1

evidently been to cool himself in the river
(thirty yards to the right, it being low tide),
and, thinking I would go on at the ordinary
pace without him, he, after his bath, struck
directly at a long diagonal for the point I
would have reached rf I had not turned back
to look for him. He did not seem to have
the slightest misgiving as to his sense of the
distance I ought to have walked during the
time of his bath. His turning was done
seemingly with a calm assurance of certainty.
I may add that there were twenty to thirty
foot-passengers scattered over the portion of
road in question at the time, whose footsteps
might have effaced my scent on the watered
granite macadamised roadway, even sup-
posing the dog to have tried his sense of
smell, ivJiich he did not, as far as I could see,
and I noticed him carefully.

W. G. S.

32 DOG STORIES

CANINE INTELLIGENCE.

\July 24, 1886.]

You often give us pleasant anecdotes of our
four-footed friends. You may think the
following worthy of record. I have a little
dog, a not particularly well-bred fox-terrier.
He is much attached to me, and shows by
his obedience, and sometimes in his dis-
obedience, that he understands a good deal.
Yesterday I was away all day, and he, I am
told, was very uneasy, and searched every-
where for me. Every day at 5 p.m. I go to
church. Toby seems to know this is not
an ordinary walk, and never offers to come
with me. But yesterday, when the bell
began, he started off and took up his position
by the vestry door. I believe he reasoned
with himself, " There goes the bell ; now I
shall catch the Vicar."

WILLIAM QUENNELL.

FROM THE " SPECTA TOR." 33

THE DOG AND THE FERRY.

\April ^ 1885.]

READING from time to time many pleasant
anecdotes in the columns of the Spectator —
which, by the way, I receive as regularly,
and read as eagerly, as when resident in
England many years ago — relative to the
sagacity of dogs, I send the following, think-
ing it possible you may deem it worthy of
insertion.

Some three years ago I was " having a
spell " in Brisbane, after a lengthened sojourn
on a sheep station in the interior of Queens-
land. During my stay in the city I had the
good fortune to gain the friendship of a
gentleman who owned a magnificent collie.
My friend, his dog Sweep, and myself,
were frequently together, engaged either in
yachting among the islands of Moreton Bay,
or 'possum hunting under the towering
eucalypti which fringe the banks of the river
Brisbane. Naturally "Sweep "(who was a
most lovable animal) and myself soon began
to entertain a warm friendship for one
3

34

DOG STORIES

another, which friendship gave rise to the
anecdote I am about to relate. Returning
to my hotel about midnight from the house
of a friend, I was not a little startled at find-
ing my hand suddenly seized from behind by
a dog, which, however, I at once recognised
as my handsome acquaintance, Sweep. I
patted him, at the same time endeavouring
to withdraw the hand which he held firmly,
but gently, between his teeth. It was of no
use, as, in spite of all my endearments, he
insisted on retaining his hold, wriggling along
by my side, and vigorously wagging his tail,
as though he would say, " Don't be afraid ;
it's all right." We soon reached a point in
the main street down which we were walk-
ing, where a side avenue branched off
towards the river. My way lay right ahead.
Sweep, however, insisted on my taking
the road which lay at a right-angle to my
course. I felt some annoyance at his per-
sistence, as I was both tired and sleepy;
but, having no choice in the matter, I
followed his lead. Having walked some two
or three hundred yards down his street, he

FROM THE "SPECTATORS 35

released his hold, dancing round me, then
running on for a few yards and looking back
to see if I were following. Becoming inte-
rested, I determined to see what he was
after, so, without further resistance, I
followed submissively. At last, having
reached the river, which at this place was
about four hundred yards wide, he, with
many joyous barks, ran down the ferry steps,
and jumped into the empty boat of the ferry-
man. At last I was able to guess at his
motive for forcing me to follow him. His
master, who lived across the river, had acci-
dentally lost sight of his dog returning from
his office in the city; and Sweep appeared
to understand perfectly that unless the boat-
man received his fare he, Sweep, would
not be carried over, my friend frequently
sending the dog over by himself when wish-
ing to attend concerts, &c., invariably paying
the fare as of an ordinary passenger. The
ferryman, who at once recognised my canine
friend, laughed heartily when I told him how
I had been served, took my penny, and set
off at once for " Kangaroo Point," Sweep

36 DOG STORIES

gaily barking " good-night " until he reached
the opposite bank. I heard subsequently
that he used to swim the river when left
behind ; but having had two narrow escapes
from sharks, his nerves had become some-
what shaken so far as water was concerned.

J. WM. CREIGHTON.

FROM THE " SPECTA TOR." 37

THE REASON OF DOGS.

\Nw. 13, 1875.]

HAVING often read, with great pleasure, the
anecdotes about dogs which from time to
time appear in the Spectator, I venture to
send you one which has come under my own
observation, and which, it seems to me,
shows an effort of reasoning implying two
distinct ideas — one the consequence of the
other — more interesting than many of those
clever performances of educated dogs which
may or may not be merely mechanical
actions.

The dog who performed the following
trick was then a great, half-grown, awkward
puppy, whose education, up to that time,
had been much neglected. It has been
better attended to since, and now, although
sportsmen probably consider such an animal
sadly thrown away upon a lady, he is a very
pleasant friend and companion. My two
dogs, Guy and Denis, form as capital a pair,
for contrast's sake, as one need wish to see.
They are both handsome does of their kind

38 DOG STORIES

— Guy, a fine black retriever, with no white
hair upon him, and, I believe, in the eyes of
sportsmen, as well as those of his mistress,
a very desirable possession, good-tempered,
clever, and affectionate ; Denis, as naughty
and spoilt a little fellow as ever existed, and
a great pet, also black, except for his yellow
paws and chest, but covered with long, loose
locks, instead of Guy's small, crisp curls.

Denis is exceedingly comic, and a constant
source of amusement. He is very faithful to
his mistress, whose bedside during illness he
has refused to leave, even for food ; but it must
be confessed that he is not amiably disposed
towards most people, and is a perfect tyrant
over the other animals. Some account of
the two dogs' character is necessary, to ex-
plain the little scene which took place
between them one evening about a year
ago. Guy, it must be premised, is at least
twelve months younger than Denis, con-
sequently, when the former first arrived — a
miserable and very ugly little puppy, a few
weeks old, more like a small black jug than
any known animal of the canine species,

FROM THE " SPECTA TOR:' 39

having had the mange, and lost all his hair —
Denis undertook his education, and ruled
him so severely that his influence lasted a
long while ; indeed, even after Guy had
grown so big that Denis almost needed to
stand upon his hind legs in order to snap
at him, the great dog would crouch meekly
at a growling remonstrance from the little
master, and never dared to invade his rights
— to approach his plate of food, or to drink
before him. Now a days Guy has dis-
covered his own power, and although too
good-natured an animal ever to ill-treat the
little dog, no longer allows -any liberties, but
at the same time, when the scene which I
am about to describe took place, he was still
under the impression that Denis's wrath was
a terrible and dangerous matter.

And now for my story, which, it seems to
me, shows as much real reasoning power in
an untrained animal as any anecdote that I
ever read. One evening I took my two
dogs to the kitchen, to give them the rare
treat of a bone apiece. (Dogs were certainly
never intended to make Natal their home,

40 DOG STORIES

for, in order to keep them alive at all, they
should never be given anything that they
like, especially meat, and even then the most
careful management often fails in preserving
them from disease and death.) One of my
sisters was with me, and together we watched
the dogs over their supper. Guy, with his
great mouth, and ravenous, growing appetite,
made short work with his, every vestige of
which had vanished ; while little Denis was
still contentedly sucking away at his small
share, not very hungry, and taking his
pleasures sedately, like a gentleman, as he is.
And then Guy began to watch the other with
an envious eye, evidently casting about in
his mind how he might gain possession o«r
that bone. He was even then, though not
full grown, so big and strong that he could
have taken it by force with the greatest ease ;
but such an idea did not cross his mind ; he
decided to employ stratagem to win the prize.
I must mention here, that amongst other
naughty practices of my dogs, is that of
rushing out of the house and barking
violently upon the slightest sound without.

FROM THE "SPECTATOR." 41

This is Denis's fault, which Guy, in spite of
all my lessons, has contracted from him.
With the evident intention of sending Denis
out, Guy suddenly started up, and began to
bark towards the door in an excited manner,
but not running out himself, as he certainly
would have done, had he really heard any-
thing. Down went Denis's bone, and out
rushed he, barking at the top of his voice.
Did Guy follow him ? Oh, dear no ! he had
no such intentions ; he sneaked up to Denis's
bone immediately, picked it up, and ran to
the other end of the room. But when he
had got it, he did not know what to do with
it ; there was no hiding-place for him there,
and he dare neither await Denis's return
openly, nor risk meeting him at the door.
My sister and I were, by this time, both
sitting on a bench against the wall, watching
the scene between the dogs, and Guy, after
running once round the room, with the bone
in his mouth, came and crept in beneath my
seat, where he was hidden by my dress, and
where he lay, not eating the bone, and in
perfect silence. Presently Master Denis

42 DOG STORIES

trotted back, quite unconscious, and shaking
the curls out of his eyes, as much as to say,
" My dear fellow ! what a fuss you've made ;
there's nothing there." He looked about for
his bone for a few minutes, but soon gave up
the search, and began to amuse himself with
other things. After a while, I, forgetting the
culprit beneath my seat, rose, and crossed the
room, leaving him exposed. Guy was in a
great fright ; he jumped up, and running to
my sister, who was still seated, he stood up
with his forepaws upon her lap, and the
bone still untouched in his mouth, as though
begging her protection. Denis, however, did
not observe him, and after a few minutes,
Guy's courage returned, and finally he
ventured to lie down, with the bone between
his paws, and began to gnaw it, keeping one
eye fixed on Denis the while. This, how-
ever, was going a step too far. Denis was
attracted by the sound, and recognised his
own bone the moment that he looked round.
He marched up to Guy (who immediately
stopped eating) and stood before him.
Denis growled, and Guy slowly removed

FROM THE "SPECTATOR? 43

one great paw from his prize. Denis
advanced a step, with another growl; Guy
removed the other paw, and slunk back a
little, whereupon Master Denis calmly walked
up, took possession of his bone, and went off
with it.

I am bound, however, to remark that after
another half-hour's contented amusement
over it, he resigned the remainder, which
was too hard for his small mouth, to Guy,
who finished the last morsel with great satis-
faction. Now that he is full grown, Guy still
gives up to Denis in many little ways, but
it is evidently through generosity only, for
he has proved himself perfectly capable of
taking his own part. But he is very gentle
with his little playmate, except at night,
when he lies across my door-way — entirely
of his own accord — and will allow no one and
nothing to enter without my command.

FRANCES E. COLENSO.

44 DOG STORIES

A CANINE SIGHT-SEER.

[May 20, 1876.]

As a subscriber to your journal, I have
observed from time to time discussion on the
" reasoning power of dogs." I will tell you
what I observed to-day. In consequence of
the Lev£e there was a great crowd in Pall
Mall. I was invited by a friend to accom-
pany him in his carriage from St. James's
Palace down Pall Mall, when lo and behold,
his dog, which usually runs with the carriage,
insisting on getting in also. Nothing could
induce him to get out, and whilst passing
along Pall Mall he amused himself looking
out of window at the police, soldiers, and
crowd collected. When through, he was
glad enough to get out again, and readily
followed through the most frequented streets.
Now, I have no doubt as to that dog's
" reasoning power," respecting his ability to
follow his carriage safely through the dense
crowd collected around St. James's Palace
and Marlborough House.

H.

FROM THE " SPECTATOR." 45

THINKING OUT A PLAN.

[March 3, 1888.]

ARE animals able to think over and carry out
a plan? The following anecdotes will answer
the question. When in India, I had a small
rough terrier who, when given a bone, was
sent to eat it on the gravel drive under an
open porch in front of the bungalow. On
several occasions two crows had made an
attempt to snatch the dainty morsel, but their
plans were easily defeated by Topsy's growls
and snapping teeth. Away flew the crows to
the branch of a tree near by. After a few
moments of evident discussion, they pro
ceeded to carry out the plan of attack. One
crow flew down to the ground and gave a
peck at the end of the dog's tail. Topsy at
once turned to resent this attack in the rear,
whilst the other crow flew down and bore the
bone away in triumph.

The same dog had a favourite resting-
place in an easy-chair, and was very often
deprived cf it by a dog which came as visitor
to the house. Topsy did not approve of this,

46 DOG STORIES

and her attempts to regain her seat were met
with growls and bites. This justified an act
of eviction, and the busy little brain decided
on a plan. The next day, as usual, the
intruder established himself in the chair,
which was close to the open door. Topsy
looked on for a moment, and then flew
savagely out of doors, barking at a supposed
enemy. Out ran the other dog to see what
was up, and back came Topsy to take pos-
session of her coveted seat. The other dog
came slowly back, and curled himself up in
a far-off corner. The above I was an eye-
witness to, and therefore can vouch for the
truth of what I relate.

K. P.

FROM THE " SPECTATOR." 47

A PARCEL-CARRYING DOG.

[Feb. 9, 1895.]

IN illustration of the anecdotal letters about
dogs and their habits, in the Spectator of
February 2nd, and Mr. Lang's paper in this
month's Nineteenth Century, I send you the
following story of a dog which I had in 1851
and for three years afterwards. He was a
handsome Newfoundland dog, and one of the
most intelligent animals with which it was
ever my good luck to meet. I was living in
a village about three miles from Dover,
where I did all my shopping and marketing,
being generally my own " carrier." Some-
times Nep would carry home a small parcel
for me, and always most carefully. On one
occasion Nep was with me when I chose
a spade, and asked the ironmonger to send
it by the village carrier. The spade was put
by, labelled and duly addressed. I went on
to have a bathe, my dog going with me, but
on finishing my toilet in the machine, and
calling and whistling for Nep, he was no-
where to be seen. He was not to be found

48 DOG STORIES.

at the stable where I had left my horse, but
on calling at the ironmonger's shop I found
he had been there and had carried off the
spade which I had bought, balancing it
carefully in his mouth. When I reached
home, there Nep was, lying near his kennel
in the stable-yard looking very fagged, but
wearing a countenance of the fullest self-
satisfaction, and evidently wishing me to
think he had fulfilled his " dog-duty." My
friend Mr. Wood, who was a thorough lover
and admirer of dogs, was delighted to hear
of his intelligent performance.

" CANOPHILIST."

P.S. — I may add Nep always guarded me
when bathing, and always went into the
water with me, too, often uttering a peculiar
kind of " howl."

THE REASONING POWERS OF
DOGS.

PURCHASING DOGS.

[May 26, 1877.]

SOME time ago I sent you my recollections of
a dog who knew a halfpenny from a penny,
and who could count up as far as two (see page
56). I have been able to obtain authentic
information of a dog whose mental powers
were still more advanced, and who, in his
day, besides being celebrated for his abilities,
was of substantial benefit to a charitable
institution in his town. The dog I refer to
was a little white fox-terrier, Prin by name,
who lived at the Lion Hotel, at Kidder-
minster, for three or four years ; but now,
alas ! he is dead, and nothing remains of him
but his head in a glass case.

I had heard of this dog some months ago,
but on Saturday last, having to make a visit
to Kidderminster, I went to see him. The
facts I give about him are based on the

52 DOG STORIES

statements of Mr. Lloyd, his master, and
they are fully substantiated by the evidence
of many others. I have before me a state-
ment of the proceeds of " Dog Prin's box,
Lion Hotel ; subscriptions to the Infirmary."
The contributions began in September, 1874,
and ended on April 25th, 1876, and during
that period the sum of £1$ 143. 6d. was
contributed through Prin's instrumentality.

He began by displaying a fancy for play-
ing with coins, not unusual amongst terriers,
and he advanced to a discovery that he
could exchange the coins for biscuits. He
learnt that for a halfpenny he could get two
biscuits, and for a penny, three ; and, having
become able to distinguish between the two
coins, it was found impossible to cheat him.
If he had contributed a penny, he would not
leave the bar till he had had his third biscuit ;
and if there was nobody to attend to his
wants, he kept the coin in his mouth till he
could be served. Indeed, it was this per-
sistence which ultimately caused poor Prin's
death, for there is every reason to fear that
he fell a victim to copper-poisoning.

FROM THE "SPECTATOR" 53

By a little training he was taught to place
the coins, after he had got the biscuits, upon
the top of a small box fixed on the wall, and
they were dropped for him through a slot.
He never objected to part with them in this
way, and having received the quid pro quo,
he gave complete evidence of his apprecia-
tion of the honourable understanding which
is so absolutely necessary for all commercial
transactions.

An authenticated case like this is of ex-
treme value, for just as the elementary stages
of any science or discovery are the most
difficult and the slowest in accomplishment,
so are the primary stages of all mental
processes. To find the preliminary steps
of the evolution of mathematics and com-
merce in a dog is therefore a very important
observation, and everything bearing on
these early phases of intellect should be
carefully recorded. LAWSON TAIT.

{Feb. 10, 1877.]

THE Spectator is always so kind to animals
that I venture to send you the following

54 DOG STORIES

story of a dog's sagacity, which may be
depended upon as absolutely true: —

During the meeting of the British Asso-
ciation at Glasgow, a friend of mine had
occasion to go one day from that place to
Greenock on business. Hearing, on his
arrival, that the person he wished to see was
out, but expected shortly to return home, he
determined to take a stroll about the town,
to which he was a stranger. In the course
of his walk he turned into a baker's shop
and bought a bun. As he stood at the door
of the shop eating his bun, a large dog came
up to him and begged for a share, which he
got, and seemed to enjoy, coming back for
piece after piece. " Does the dog belong
to you ? " my friend asked of the shop-
woman. " No," she answered, " but he
spends most of his time here, and begs
halfpennies from the people who pass.'
" Halfpennies ! What good can they be to
him?" "Oh, he knows very well what
to do with them; he comes into the shop
and buys cakes."

This seemed rather a remarkable instance

FROM THE "SPECTATOR." 55

of cleverness even for the cleverest of
animals, so, by way of testing its reality,
my friend went out of the shop into the
street, where he was immediately accosted
by the dog, who begged for something with
all the eloquence of which a dog is capable.
He offered him a halfpenny, and was rather
surprised to see him accept it readily, and
walk, with the air of a regular customer, into
the shop, where he put his forepaws on the
counter, and held out the halfpenny towards
the attendant. The young woman produced
a bun, but that did not suit the dog, and he
held his money fast. " Ah," she said, " I
know what he wants," and took down from
a shelf a plate of shortbread, This was
right ; the dog paid his halfpenny, took his
shortbread, and ate it with decorous satis-
faction. When he had quite finished he
left the shop, and my friend, much amused,
followed him, and when he again begged
found another halfpenny for him, and saw the
whole process gone through a second time.

This dog clearly had learned by some
means the use of money, and not merely

56 DOG STORIES

that it would buy something to eat, but that
it would buy several things, among which he
could exercise a right of choice. What is
perhaps most remarkable is that his proceed-
ings were entirely independent, and for his
own benefit, not that of any teacher or
master. A. L. W.

[Feb. 17, 1877-]

WHEN a student at Edinburgh, I enjoyed
the friendship of a brown retriever, who
belonged to a fishmonger in Lothion Street,
and who was certainly the cleverest dog I
have ever met with. He was a cleverer dog
than the one described by "A. L. W." be-
cause he knew the relative value of certain
coins. In the morning he was generally to
be seen seated on the step of the fishmonger's
shop-door, waiting for some of his many
friends to give him a copper. When he
had got one, he trotted away to a baker's
shop a few doors off, and dropped the coin
on the counter. If I remember rightly (it
is twelve or fifteen years ago), his weakness
was "soda scones," Jf he dropped a half-

FROM THE "SPECTATOR:' 57

penny on the counter he was contented with
one scone, but if he had given a penny he
expected two, and would wait for the second,
after he had eaten the first, until he got it.
That he knew exactly when he was entitled
to one scone only, and when he ought to get
two, is certain, for I tried him often.

LAWSON TAIT.

{Feb. 17, 1877.]

IN the Spectator of the loth inst. a corre-
spondent describes the purchase of cakes by
a clever dog at Greenock. I should like to
be allowed to help preserve the memory of
a most worthy dog-friend of my youth, well
remembered by many now living who knew
Greenwich Hospital some thirty or five-and-
thirty years ago.

At that time there lived there a dog-
pensioner called Hardy, a large brown
Irish retriever. He was so named by Sir
Thomas Hardy, when Governor (Nelson's
Hardy), who at the same time constituted
him a pensioner, at the rate of one penny
per diem, for that he had one day saved a
life from drowning just opposite the hospital.

58 DOG STORIES

Till that time he was a poor stranger and
vagrant dog — friendless. But thenceforward
he lived in the hospital, and spent his pension
himself "at the butcher's shop, as he did also
many another coin given to him by numerous
friends. Many is the halfpenny which, as a
child, I gave Hardy, that I might see him
buy his own meat — which he did with judg-
ment, and a due regard to value. When a
penny was given to him, he would, on
arriving at the shop, place it on the counter
and rest his nose or paw upon it until he
received two halfpennyworths, nor would any
persuasion induce him to give up the coin
for the usual smaller allowance. I was a
young child at the time, but I had a great
veneration for Hardy, and remember him
well, but lest my juvenile memory might
have been in fault, I have, before writing
this letter, compared my recollections with
those of my elders, who, as grown people,
knew Hardy for many years, and confirm
all the above facts. There, indeed, was the
right dog in the right place. Peace to his
shade! J. D. C.

FROM THE " SPECTA TOR:' 59

[Feb. 7, 1885.]

HAVE you room for one more dog story,
which resembles one lately reported in a
French journal ? A few years since I was
sitting inside the door of a shop to escape
from the rain while waiting for a trap to take
me to the railway station in the old Etruscan
city of Ferentino. Presently an ill-bred dog
of the pointer kind came and sat down in
front of me, looking up in my face, and
wagging his tail to attract my attention.
" What does that dog want ? " I asked of a
bystander. "Signore," he answered, "he
wants you to give him a soldo to go and
buy you a cigar with." I gave the dog the
coin, and he presently returned, bringing a
cigar, which he held crossways in his mouth
until I took it from him. Sent again and
again, he brought me three or four more
cigars from the tobacco-shop. At length the
clog's demeanour changed, and he gave vent
to his impatience by two or three low whines.
" What does he want now ? " I asked. "He
wants you to give him two soldi to go to the
baker's and buy bread for himself." I gave

6o DCG STORIES

him a two-soldo piece, and in a few minutes
the dog returned with a small loaf of bread,
which he laid at my feet, at the same time
gazing wistfully in my face. " He won't
take it until you give him leave," said
another bystander. I gave the requisite
permission, and the dear animal seized the
loaf and disappeared with it in his mouth,
and did not again make his appearance
before I left the city. "He always does
like this," said the standers-by, " whenever
he sees a stranger in Ferentino."

GREVILLE I. CHESTER.

FROM THE "SPECTATOR." 61

CAUTIOUS DOGS.

INTELLIGENT SUSPICION IN A DOG.

, 1888.]

THE following instance ot dog instinct (or
reasoning ?) will, I think, interest some of
your readers. About a fortnight ago, while
crossing the Albula Pass, our driver stopped
for a few moments at the little restaurant on
the highest point of it. A rough kind of
herdsman's dog, of no particular breed, I
suppose, came out and sat down by the
carriage and looked up at us. We happened
to have a few Marie biscuits in the carriage,
so I threw half of one out to him. I suppose
he had no experience in Huntley and
Palmer's make, for he looked at and smelled
it carefully, and then declined to eat it, but
again looked up at me. I then took the
remaining half, bit off and ate a little bit of
it, and then threw over the rest to him.
This time he ate it at once, then turned and
ate the first piece, which he had before
refused, and at once came and asked for

62 DOG STORIES

more, which I had great pleasure in giving
him. I may add that I have several times
tried a similar experiment with more
pampered dogs at home, but have never
succeeded with it. Whether this arises from
the latter knowing, in most cases, from
experience what they like and what they do
not like, or, as I am rather inclined to think,
from the superior intelligence of this Alpine
dog, who really reasoned that what I could
eat he could, I leave your readers to decide
for themselves.

G. W. C.

AN ALPINE DOG.

{July 21, 1888.]

I DO not think that it was superior intelli-
gence in the Alpine dog over other intelligent
dogs which induced him to wait to eat the
biscuit till he had seen the giver eat some of
it. We have a very sagacious little High-
land terrier, and he in the same manner often
refuses a new kind of biscuit or cake until
he has seen me bite off a small piece and

FROM THE " SPECTATOR? 63

eat it, and then he will do the same. I have
also found our boarhound distrusting food
occasionally, and declining to take it from
his bowl until I have given him some with
my hand. Then he seems to feel that it is
all right, and comes down from his bench
and eats it. This perhaps is not exactly the
same, but it is still a phase of a dog's distrust
of unaccustomed food, and his reasoning
power respecting it. This wonderful reason-
ing power any one accustomed to dogs soon
discovers.

J. B. G.

64 DOG STORIES

DOGS AND LANGUAGE.

DO DOGS UNDERSTAND OUR LANGUAGE ?

{Aug. 4, 1883.]

I THINK the question has been mooted in
your columns as to whether dogs sometimes
understand our language. A circumstance
that has just occurred leads me to think that
it does happen, where they are highly
organised and living much with their owners.
While our family party were sitting over
dessert, a cork jumped from an apollinaris-
water bottle on the sideboard. I took no
notice at first, but after the conversation was
ended, I got up and looked about for a few
minutes, soon giving up the search. My
brother asked what I was looking for, and I
answered. I had no sooner sat down than
our little dog crept from behind a piece of
furniture, where she was reposing on the end
of a rug, and went straight up to the cork,
looking up at me and pointing to it with her
nose. It was near me, but the shadow
thrown by the table, prevented my seeing it.

FROM THE " SPECTA TOR* 65

She is a very nervous little fox-terrier, a
most " comfort-loving animal," and spends
her life with one or the other of us on my
sofa, when her master is out, but hearing his
voice at a great distance, and always attend-
ing to it.

ANYTHING CUT A DOG-FANCIER.

HOW OUR MEANING IS CONVEYED TO ANIMALS.

{Aug. ii, 1883.]

THE following anecdote may interest some
of your readers : — Some years ago, when
starting for a foreign tour, I entrusted my
little Scotch terrier, Pixie, to the care of my
brother, who lived about three miles distant
from my house. I was away for six weeks,
during the whole of which time Pixie re-
mained contentedly at his new abode.
The day, however, before I returned, my
brother mentioned in the dog's hearing
that I was expected back the next day.
Thereupon, the dog started off, and was
found by me at my bedroom door the
next morning, he having been seen waiting
5

66 DOG STORIES

outside the house early in the morning when
the servants got up, and been admitted by
them. Pixie is still alive and flourishing,
and readily lends himself to experiments,
which, however, yield no very definite result.
He certainly seems to understand as much of
our meaning as it concerns his own comfort
to understand, but how he does it I cannot
quite determine. I should be sorry to affirm,
clever as he is, that he understands French
and German, yet it is certainly a fact that he
will fall back just as readily if I say
"Zuriick!' as if I say "To heel!" and
advance to the sound " En avant ! " as well
as to " Hold up ! " As in both cases I am
careful to avoid any elucidatory gesture or
special tone of voice, I am inclined to think
that there must be here a species of direct
thought transference. At the same time, I
am bound to add that without the spoken
word I am unable to convey the slightest
meaning to him. This, however, may be
due to what I believe to be a fact, that it is
almost impossible without word or gesture to
formulate the will with any distinctness. If

FROM THE " SPECTATOR:* 67

this theory be correct, the verbal sounds used
would convey the speaker's meaning, not in
virtue of the precise sounds themselves, but
of the intention put into them by the
speaker. I should be glad to know if the
experience of others tends to confirm this
theory, which I do not remember to have
seen suggested before.

A. EUBULE-EVANS.

\_Aug. 1 8, 1883.]

I BEG to contribute another anecdote on the
subject ot how our meaning is conveyed to
animals. When I was in Norway with my
husband, a dog belonging to the people of
the house went with us in all our walks.
One day a strange dog joined us, and
seemed to wish to get up a fight with our
dog, Fechter, who for protection kept
almost under our feet ; my husband said
several times, " Go on, Fechter," in English,
which he immediately did, but soon came
back again. At last we succeeded in driving
the strange dog away, but he soon returned.
Then my husband said without any alteration

68 DOG STORIES

of tone or gesture that I was aware of,
" Drive that dog away, Fechter." He
immediately rushed at him, and we saw no
more of our troubler. I have long thought
that dogs do understand, not " the precise
sounds themselves, but the intention put into
them by the speaker."

AN OBSERVER OF ANIMALS.

ANIMAL INTELLIGENCE.

{Aug. 1 8, 1883.]

PERHAPS I should have said the "Intelligence
of Animals," but my meaning, in relation
to the interesting correspondence in your
columns, is no doubt clear. The whole
question seems to me to lie in the proverbial
nutshell, and to be solvable by the proverbial
' common sense. Dogs' hearing is undoubtedly
very keen and accurate, and even subtle ; and
dogs have also the power of putting this and
that together in a marvellously shrewd and
almost rational fashion. They cannot under-
stand sentences, but they get hold of words,
i.e., sounds, and keep them pigeon-holed in

FROM THE « SPECTA TOR." 69

their memory. I might as well argue moral
principle from the fact that my dog Karl,
like scores of other dogs, will hold a piece of
biscuit on his nose so long as I say "trust,"
and will when I say "paid for" gaily toss
his head and catch the biscuit in his honest
mouth, as argue that because he finds eleven
tennis-balls among the shrubs in five minutes,
when I say, " We can't find them at all,
Karl ; do go and find them, good dog,
will you ? Find the balls, old fellow " —
therefore he understands my sentence. He
simply grasps the words " find " and " balls,"
sees the game at a standstill, and reasons out
our needs and his responsibilities, quickened
by the expectation of pattings on the head,
pettings, and pieces of biscuit. It is remark-
able that if I try to delude him by uttering
" base coin " in the shape of words just like
the real words, as, for example, if I say
"Jacob" instead of "paid for," he makes
no mistake, but refuses the morsel, however
delicate, till it is " paid for."

Prominent nouns, participles, verbs, £c.,
make up the lingua franca that so beautifully

7o DOG STORIES

links together men and dogs, and now and
then men and horses, their intelligence being
quickened by their dumbness, as is that of
deaf and dumb men and women, whose other
faculties become so keenly intensified, and
who put this and that together so much more
quickly than do we who have all our faculties.
There are of course "Admiral Crichtons"
among dogs, as there are among men, but
the difference between dog and dog will
generally, I think, be traceable more to
human training than to born capacity. The
yearning look which Karl gives when (told
to " speak ") he gives forth his voice in
response, is sometimes piteously like " Oh,
that I could really tell all I feel!" He is
like, and all dogs of average intelligence are
like, the Frenchman I met yesterday on the
beach at Hastings, who wanted to know
whether he could reach Ramsgate on foot
before nightfall, and. how far it was, and who,
as I only know a few French words, and am
utterly unable to speak or understand sen-
tences, was obliged to make me understand
his wants by a few nouns such as everybody

FROM THE "SPECTATOR" • 71

knows, and by causing me to put this and
that together. There is of course the vital
defect in the parallel that I could learn to
understand French, and the dog could never
learn to understand sentences ; but as so
many parallels have vital defects of some
kind, even down to that historic self-drawn
parallel between Alexander and the robber,
we may well say, whether we be men or
dogs, " Let me reflect." Dogs do undoubt-
edly reflect, and reason, and remember; and
they never forget their " grammar," as school-
boys do. Instinct, like chance, is only a name
expressing fitly enough our own ignorance.
Did not Luther and Wesley believe in the
resurrection of animals ?

S. B. JAMES.

\_A«g. 25, 1883.]

A LITTLE illustration of canine intelligence
shown by my collie, Dido, may be added
to those which have lately appeared in the
Spectator. The dog was lying on the floor
in a room in which I was preparing to go
out. An old servant was present, and when

72 DOG STORIES

I had given her directions about an errand
on which she was going, I said, " You will
take Dido with you?" She assented, and
the dog directly got up to follow her down-
stairs. I then remembered that I should
want a cab, so I asked the servant to send
one, and not to leave the house till I rang
the bell. On her leaving the room, Dido
resumed her quiet attitude on the floor, with
her nose to the carpet. In rather less than
ten minutes I rang the bell, and the dog at
once sprang up and ran downstairs to join
her companion. I had not spoken a word
after asking the servant to wait for the bell.
Was this word-reading, or voice-reading, or
thought-read ing.

S. E. DE MORGAN.

ANIMALS AND LANGUAGE.

[Sept. i, 1883.]

I CAN match Mrs. De Morgan's pretty story
of her Dido. A wise old dog with whom I
have the privilege to associate was, two or
three days ago, lying asleep in her basket by

FROM THE '< SPECTA TOR." 73

the fire. I entered the room with my hat
on, and invited her to join me in a walk ;
but, after looking up at me for a moment,
as canine politeness required, she dropped
back among her cushions, obviously replying,
" Thank you very much, but I prefer repose."
Thereupon I observed, in a clear voice, " I
am not going on the road [a promenade dis-
liked by the dogs, because the walls on either
side restrict the spirit of scientific research] ;
I am going up the mountain." Instantly
my little friend jumped up, shook her ears,
and, with a cheerful bark, announced herself
as ready to join the party.

Beyond doubt or question, Colleen had
either understood the word "road," or the
word " mountain," or both, and determined
her proceedings accordingly. Nothing in my
action showed, or could show, the meaning
of my words.

If any of your readers who have resided
for some weeks or months in a country where
a language is spoken entirely foreign to their
own — say, Arabic, or Basque, or Welsh —
will recall of how many words they insensibly

74 DOG STORIES

learn the meaning without asking it, and
merely by hearing them always used in
certain relations, they will have, I think, a
fair measure of the extent and nature of a
dog's knowledge of the language of his
masters. My dog has lived fewer years in
the world than I have passed in Wales, but
he knows just about as much English as I
know Welsh, and has acquired it just in the

same way.

F. P. C.

TEACHING DOGS A METHOD OF COMMUNICATION.

[Dec. 29, 1883.]

MR. DARWIN'S " Notes on Instinct," recently
published by my friend, Mr. Romanes, have
again called attention to the interesting sub-
ject of instinct in animals.

Miss Martineau once remarked that, con
sidering how long we have lived in close
association with animals, it is astonishing
how little we know about them, and espe-
cially about their mental condition. This
applies with especial force to our domestic
animals, and, above all, of course, to dogs.

FROM THE "SPECTATOR? 75

I believe that it arises very much from the
fact that hitherto we have tried to teach
animals, rather than to learn from them —
to convey our ideas to them, rather than to
devise any language, or code of signals, by
means of which they might communicate
theirs to us. No doubt the former process
is interesting and instructive, but it does not
carry us very far.

Under these circumstances it has occurred
to me whether some such system as that
followed with deaf mutes, and especially by
Dr. Howe with Laura Bridgman, might not
prove very instructive if adapted to the case
of dogs. Accordingly I prepared some pieces
of stout cardboard, and printed on each in
legible letters a word, such as " food,"
"bone," "out," &c. I then began training
a black poodle, Van by name, kindly given
me by my friend, Mr. Nickalls.

I commenced by giving the dog food in a
saucer, over which I laid the card on which
was the word " food," placing also by the
side an empty saucer, covered by a plain
card. Van soon learnt to distinguish between

76 DOG STORIES

the two, and the next stage was to teach
him to bring me the card ; this he now does,
and hands it to me quite prettily, and I then
give him a bone, or a little food, or take him
out, according to the card brought. He
still brings sometimes a plain card, in which
case I point out his error, and he then takes
it back and changes it. This, however, does
not often happen. Yesterday morning, for
instance, he brought me the card with
" food " on it nine times in succession,
selecting it from among other plain cards,
though I changed the relative position every
time. No one who sees him can doubt that
he understands the act of bringing the card
with the word " food " on it, as a request for
something to eat, and that he distinguishes
between it and a plain card. I also believe
that he distinguishes, for instance, between
the card with the word " food " on it and the
card with " out " on it.

This, then, seems to open up a method
which may be carried much further, for it is
obvious that the cards may be multiplied,
and the dog thus enabled to communicate

FROM THE "SPECTATOR." 77

freely with us. I have as yet, I know, made
only a very small beginning, and hope to
carry the experiment much further, but my
object in troubling you with this letter is
*wofold. In the first place, I trust that some
of your readers may be able and willing to
suggest extensions or improvements of the
idea. Secondly, my spare time is small, and
liable to many interruptions ; and animals
also, we know, differ greatly from one another.
Now, many of your readers have favourite
dogs, and I would express a hope that some
of them may be disposed to study them in
the manner indicated. The observations,
even though negative, would be interesting ;
but I confess I hope that some positive re-
sults might follow, which would enable us to
obtain a more correct insight into the minds
of animals than we have yet acquired.

JOHN LUBBOCK.

COMMUNICATION WITH ANIMALS.

[April 12, 1884.]

You did me the honour, some weeks ago, to
insert a letter of mine, containing suggestions

78 DOG STORIES

as to a method of studying the psychology of
animals and a short account of a beginning I
had myself made in that direction.

This letter has elicited various replies and
suggestions which you will perhaps allow me
to answer, and I may also take the opportu-
nity of stating the progress which my dog
Van has made, although, owing greatly, no
doubt, to my frequent absences from home
and the little time I can devote to him, this
has not been so rapid as I doubt not would
otherwise have been the case. Perhaps I
may just repeat that the essence of my idea
was to have various words, such as "food,"
"bone," "water," "out," &c., printed on
pieces of card-board, and, after some pre-
liminary training, to give the dog anything
for which he asked by bringing a card. I
use pieces of cardboard about ten inches long
and three inches high, placing a number of
them on the floor side by side, so that the
dog has several cards to select from, each
bearing a different word.

One correspondent has suggested that it
would be better to use variously coloured

FROM THE "SPECTATOR." 79

cards. This might, no doubt, render the
first steps rather more easy, but, on the other
hand, any temporary advantage gained would
be at the expense of subsequent difficulty,
since the pupil would very likely begin by
associating the object with the colour, rather
than with the letters. He would, therefore,
as is too often the case with our own children,
have the unnecessary labour of unlearning
some of his first lessons. At the same time,
the experiment would have an interest as a
test of the colour-sense in dogs.

Another suggestion has been that, instead
of words, pictorial representations should be
placed on the cards. This, however, could
only be done with material objects, such as
"food," "bone," "water," &c., and would not
be applicable to such words as " out," " pet
me," &c. ; nor even as regards the former
class do I see that it would present any
substantial advantage.

Again, it has been suggested that Van is
led by scent rather than by sight. He has,
no doubt, an excellent nose, but in this case
he is certainly guided by the eye. The cards

8o DOG STORIES

are all handled by us, and must emit very
nearly the same odour. I do not, however,
rely on this, but have in use a number of
cards bearing the same word. When, for
instance, he has brought a card with "food"
on it, we do not put down the same identical
card, but another with the same word ; when
he has brought that, a third is put down, and
so on. For a single meal, therefore, eight or
ten cards will have been used, and it seems
clear, therefore, that in selecting them Van
must be guided by the letters.

When I last wrote I had satisfied myself
that he had learnt to regard the bringing
of a card as a request, and that he could
distinguish a card with the word " food " on
it from a plain one, while I believed that he
could distinguish between a card with " food "
on it and one with "out" on it.

I have now no doubt that he can distin-
guish between different words. For instance,
when he is hungry he will bring a " food "
card time after time, until he has had enough,
and then he lies down quietly for a nap.
Again, when I am going for a walk, and

FROM THE "SPECTATOR:* 81

invite him to come, he gladly responds by
picking up the "out" card, and running
triumphantly with it before me to the front
door. In the same way he knows the " bone "
card quite well. As regards water (which I
spell phonetically, so as not to confuse him
unnecessarily), I keep a card always on the
floor in my dressing-room, and whenever he
is thirsty he goes off there, without any
suggestion from me, and brings the card
with perfect gravity. At the same time he
is fond of a game, and if he is playful or
excited will occasionally nan about with any
card. If through inadvertence he brings a
card for something he does not want, when
the corresponding object is shown him, he
seizes the card, takes it back again, and
fetches the right one. No one who has seen
him look along a row of cards, and select the
right one, can, I think, doubt that in bringing
a card he feels that he is making a request,
and that he can not only perfectly distinguish
between one word and another, but also asso-
ciates the word and the object.

I do not for a moment say that Van thus
6

82 DOG STORIES

shows more intelligence than has been re-
corded in the case of other dogs ; that is not
my point, but it does seem to me that this
method of instruction opens out a means by
which dogs and other animals may be enabled
to communicate with us more satisfactorily
than hitherto. I am still continuing my
observations, and am now considering the
best mode of testing him in very simple
arithmetic, but I wish I could induce others
to co-operate, for I feel satisfied that the
system would well repay more time and
attention than I am myself able to give.
JOHN LUBBOCK.

FROM THE* SPECTATOR? 83

INSTINCT OF LOCALITY IN
DOGS.

\_March 4, 1893.]

A CAT carried a hundred miles in a basket, a
dog taken, perhaps, five hundred miles by
rail, in a few days may have found their way
back to the starting-point. So we have
often been told, and, no doubt, the thing has
happened. We have been astonished at
the wonderful intelligence displayed. Magic,
I should call it. Last week I heard of a
captain who sailed from Aberdeen to Ar-
broath. He left behind him a dog which,
according to the story, had never been in
Arbroath, but when he arrived there the dog
was waiting on the quay. I was expected to
believe that the dog had known his master's
destination, and been able to inquire the way
overland to Arbroath. Truly marvellous !
But, really, it is time to inquire more care-
fully as to what these stories do mean ; we
must cease to ascribe our intelligence to
animals, and learn that it is we that often
possess their instinct. A cat on a farm will

84 DOG STORIES

wander many miles in search of prey, and
will therefore be well acquainted with the
country for many miles round. It is taken
fifty miles away. Again it wanders, and
comes across a bit of country it knew before.
What more natural than that it should go to
its old home? Carrier-pigeons are taught
" homing " by taking them gradually longer
flights from home, so that they may learn the
look of the country. We cannot always dis-
cover that a dog actually was acquainted
with the route by which it wanders home ;
but it is quite absurd to imagine, as most
people at once do, that it was a perfect
stranger to the lay of the land. To find our
way a second time over ground we have
once trod is scarcely intelligence ; we can
only call it instinct, though the word does
not in the least explain the process. Two
years ago I first visited Douglas, in the Isle
of Man. I reached the station at n p.m. ;
I was guided to a house a mile through the
town. I scarcely paid any attention to the
route, yet next morning I found my way by
thf? same route to the station, walking with

FROM THE "SPECTATOR." 85

my head bent, deeply thinking all the time
about other things than the way. I have
the instinct of locality. Most people going
into a dark room that they know are by mus-
cular sense guided exactly to the very spot
they wish ; so people who have the instinct
of locality may wander over a moor exactly
to the place they wish to reach without
thinking of where they go. There may be
no mental exercise connected with this. I
have known a lady of great intelligence who
would lose her way within half-a-mile of the
house she had lived in forty years. This
feeling about place belongs to that part of us
that we have in common with the lower
creatures. We need not postulate that the
animals ever show signs of possessing our
intelligence ; they possess, in common with
us, what is not intelligence, but instinct.

A. J. MACKINTOSH.

{Sept. 24, 1892.]

WILL you allow me to record in the Spectator
" another dog story " ? It is one that testifies,
for the thousandth time, to canine sagacity,

86 DOG STORIES

and, as we are still in the silly season, which
has this year in particular been so very
prolific in human follies, it may be of special
interest to learn some clever doings on the
part of beasts. Quite recently a West-
phalian squire travelled by rail from Liixen
to Wesel, on the Rhine, for the purpose of
enjoying some hunting, and took with him
his favourite hound. The hunting party was
to have started on a Sunday morning at nine
o'clock, but, to the squire's great disappoint-
ment, his sporting dog could nowhere be dis-
covered. Disconsolate, he arrived on the
following Monday afternoon at his house,
and, to his great delight, he was greeted
there with exuberant joy by his dog. The
latter, who had never made the journey from
Luxen to Wesel, had simply run home, thus
clearing a distance of eighty English miles
through an unknown country. Why the
sporting dog should have declined to join
the hunt is, perhaps, a greater mystery than
the fact of his returning home without any
other guidance than his sagacious instinct.
Possibly he was a Sabbatarian, and objected

FROM THE " SPECTA TOR." 87

to imitate his master's wicked example. So,
Sunday papers, please copy !

EIN THIERFREUND.

[Sept. 8, 1894.]

MAY I be allowed to offer to your readers
yet another instance of the faithfulness and
sagacity of our friend the dog ? The anec-
dote comes from a distinguished naval
officer, and is best given in his own words :
" This is what happened to a spaniel of mine.
It was given to our children as a puppy
about three or four months old, and we have
had it about five or six months, making it
about ten months old. It was born about
three miles from here, at Hertford, and has
never been anywhere but from one home to
the other. When the time came for break-
ing him in for shooting purposes, I sent him
to a keeper at Leighton- Buzzard, and, to
insure a safe arrival, sent the dog with my
man-servant to the train here, and thence to
King's Cross. He walked with the dog to
Euston Station, turned him over to the guard
of the 12.15 tram

88 DOG STORIES

arrived at Leighton-Buzzard at 1.30, and
was there met by the keeper and taken to
his home about three miles off. That was
on the Friday. On the following Tuesday,
the dog having been with him three full
days, he took him out in the morning with
his gun, and at eight o'clock on Wednesday
morning (that being the following day) the
dog appeared here, rather dirty, and looking
as if he had travelled some distance, which
he undoubtedly had. There is no doubt
that this puppy of ten months old was sent
away, certainly forty or fifty miles as the
crow flies, and that he returned here in a
day. How he did it no one can say, but it
is nevertheless a fact. It would be interest-
ing to know his route and to trace his
adventures." This anecdote is the more
remarkable in consequence of the extreme
youth of the dog, and particularly as he
belongs to a breed of sporting dogs which
are not generally considered to rank among
the most intelligent of the species.

F. H. SUCKLING.

FROM THE "SPECTATOR." 89

{Sept. 15, 1894.]

THE " True Story of a Dog," in the Spec-
tator of September 8th, may be matched,
possibly explained, by a similar occurrence.
I had bought a Spanish poodle pup of an
Irishman who assured me, " Indade, sir, an'
the dog knows all my childer do, only he
can't talk." He shut doors, opened those
with thumb-latches, and rushed upstairs and
waked his mistress at words of command.
One day we were starting to drive to our
former home in the city, six miles distant,
but the dog was refused his usual place in
the carriage, and shut up in the house.
When we arrived, to our astonishment we
found him waiting for us on the doorstep !
We could not conceive how he got there, but
upon inquiry found that he had got out, gone
to the station, in some way entered the train,
hid under a seat, and on arrival in the city
threaded his way a mile through the streets,
and was found quietly awaiting our arrival.

R. P. S.

9o

DOG STORIES

[May 3, 1884.]

How do we know that in inviting dogs to
the use of words Sir John Lubbock is
developing their intelligence? Are we sure
that he is not asking them to descend to
a lower level than their own, in teaching
them to communicate with us through our
proper forms of speech, unnecessary to
them? I can vouch for the truth of the
following story. A young keeper, living
about twelve miles east of Winchester, on
leaving his situation gave away a fox-terrier,
which had been his constant companion for
some months ; he then took another place
in the north of Hampshire, near the borders
of Berkshire, in a part of the country to
which he had never been. The new owner
of the dog took her with him to a village
in Sussex ; before she had been there long
she disappeared, and after a short time found
her old master in the woods at his new home.
As I have said before, he had never been
there before, neither had she. Rather un-
gratefully, he again gave the dog away, this
time to a man living some way north of

FROM THE " SPECTATOR." 91

Berkshire ; she came back to him in a few
days, and, I am happy to say. is now to be
allowed to stay with the master of her choice.
Can such a nature need to be taught our
clumsy language.

A H. WILLIAMS.

\Feb. 1 6, 1895.]

As I see that you have published some
interesting anecdotes about dogs, I send you
the two following, which perhaps you may
think worth inserting.

In 1873 we came to live in England, after
a residence upon the Continent, bringing
with us a Swiss terrier of doubtful breed
but of marked sagacity, called Tan. One
day, shortly after reaching the new home
from Switzerland, the dog was lost under
the following circumstances: — We had driven
to a station eight miles off — East Harling —
to meet a friend. As the friend got out of
the railway carriage the dog got in without
being noticed and the train proceeded on
its way. At the next station — Eccles Road
—the dog's barking attracted the attention

92 DOG STORIES

of the station-master, who opened the carriage
door, and the dog jumped out. The station-
master and the dog were perfect strangers.
He and a porter tried to lock up the dog,
but he flew viciously at any one who
attempted to touch him, although he was
not above accepting food. For the next
three days his behaviour was decidedly
methodical ; starting from the station in the
morning, he came back dejected and tired
at night. At last, on the evening of the
third day, he reached home, some nine
miles away, along roads which he had not
before travelled, a sorry object and decidedly
the worse for wear ; after some food he slept
for twenty- four hours straight off.

Anecdote number two. One day a hand-
some black, smooth-haired retriever puppy
was given to us, whom we named Neptune.
The terrier Tan greatly resented having
this new companion thrust upon him, and
became very jealous of him. Being small,
he was unable to tackle so large a dog, but
sagacity accomplished what strength could not.
Tan disappeared for two days. One evening,

FROM THE "SPECTATOR* 93

hearing a tremendous commotion in the yard,
we rushed out to find a huge dog of the St.
Bernard species inflicting a severe castigation
upon poor Nep, Tan meanwhile looking on,
complacently wagging his tail. Both Tan
and his companion then disappeared for two
more days, after which Tan reappeared
alone, apparently in an equable frame of
mind, and satisfied that he had had his
revenge. We never discovered where the
large dog came from. I can attest the truth
of the two stories.

CECIL DOWNTON.

94 DOG STORIES

RAILWAY DOGS.

o, 1887.]

YOUR dog-loving readers may be interested
to hear that there is (or was till lately) m
South Africa a rival to the well-known
Travelling Jack, of Brighton line fame, after
whom, indeed, he has been nicknamed by
his acquaintance.

I was introduced to him eighteen months
ago, on board the Norhani Castle, on a
voyage from Cape Town to England — a
voyage which this distinguished Colonial
traveller was making much against his will.
He was a black-and-tan terrier with a white
'chest, whose intellect had therefore probably
been improved by a dash of mongrelism, and
I was told that he belonged to a gentleman
connected with the railway department living
at Port Elizabeth. It appears that it was
Mr. Jack's habit frequently to embark all
by himself on board the mail steamer leaving
that place on Saturday afternoon, and make
the trip round the coast to Cape Town,
arriving there on Monday morning. Where

FROM THE « SPECTATOR:' 95

he " put up " I do not know, but he used
to stay there until Wednesday evening, when
he would calmly walk into the station, take
his place in the train, and return to Port
Elizabeth in that way, thus completing his
" circular tour " by a railway journey of
about eight hundred miles.

He was well known by the officers and
sailors of the Norham, and her commander,
Captain Alexander Winchester (who can
vouch for these facts), told me that, as the
dog seemed fond of the sea, he had deter-
mined to give him a long voyage for a
change, and had kept him shut up on board
during the ship's stay at Cape Town.

Jack was evidently very uneasy at being
taken on beyond his usual port, and he was
on the point of slipping into a boat for the
shore at Madeira, probably with a view of
returning to the Cape by the next steamer,
when I called the captain's attention to him,
and he was promptly shut up again. I said
good-bye to him at Plymouth, and hope he
found his way home safely on the return
voyage.

EX-COLONIST.

96 DOG STORIES

\June 23, 1894.]

I HAVE read with much interest the stories in
the Spectator of the sagacity of animals.
The following, I think, is worth recording : —
The chief-engineer of the Midland and
South-Western Junction Railway, Mr. J.
R. Shopland, C.E., has a spaniel that fre-
quently accompanies him or his sons to their
office. On Saturday last this dog went to
Marlborough from Swindon by train with
one of Mr. Shopland's clerks, and walked
with him to Savernake Forest. Suddenly
the dog was missing. The creature had
gone back to the station at Marlborough
and taken a seat in a second-class compart-
ment. The dog defied the efforts of the
railway officials to dislodge him. When the
train reached Swindon he came out of the
carriage and walked quietly to his master's
residence.

SAMUEL SNELL.

[March 30, 1895.]

I WAS witness the other day of what I had
only heard of before — a dog travelling by

FROM THE " SPECTATOR.1' 97

rail on his own account. I got into the train
at Uxbridge Road, and, the compartment
being vacant, took up the seat which I now
prefer — the corner seat at the entrance with
the back to the engine. Presently a whole
crowd of ladies got in, and with them a dog,
which I supposed to belong to them. All the
ladies except one got out at Addison Road,
and then the dog slunk across the carriage
to just under my seat. I asked my remaining
fellow-passenger whether the dog was hers ;
she said "No." No one got in before she her-
self got out at South Kensington, where the
dog remained perfectly quiet, but at Sloane
Square a man was let in, and out rushed
the dog, the door actually grazing his sides.
Had he not taken up the precise place he
did, he must have been shut in or crushed.
"That dog is a stowaway," I observed to
the porter who had opened the door. " I
suppose he is," the man answered. The dog
was making the best of his way to the stairs.
Clearly the dog meant to get out at that
particular station (he had had ample oppor-
tunity of getting out both at Addison Road
7

98 DOG STORIES.

and South Kensington), and had, as soon
as he could, taken up the best position for
doing so. How did he recognise the Sloane
Square Station, for he had had only those
two opportunities of glancing out ? It seems
to me it could only have been by counting
the stations, in which case he must be able
to reckon up to five. The dog was a very
ordinary London cur, white and tan, of a
greatly mixed Scotch terrier stock, the long
muzzle showing a greyhound cross. He
was thin, and apparently conscious of break-
ing the law, hiding out of sight, and slinking
along with his tail between his legs, and
altogether not worth stealing. I suppose
that he had been transferred to a new home
which had proved uncongenial, and was
slipping away, in fear and trembling, to his
old quarters.

J M. L.

EMOTION AND SENTIMENT IN
DOGS.

A DOG'S REMORSE.

{Sept. i, 1883.]

A REMARKABLE instance of the effect that can
be produced upon a dog by the human voice
was related to me yesterday. Some of your
correspondents would consider it confirmatory
of their notion that dogs have mind enough
to understand words ; but I myself rather
believe that the sound of the voice acts upon
the feelings of dumb animals just as instru-
mental music acts upon us. The story is as
follows : — A clergyman had for a long time a
dog, and no other domestic animal. He and
his servant made a great pet of the dog.
At last, however, the clergyman took to
keeping a few fowls, and the servant fed
them. The dog showed himself very jealous
and out of humour at this, and when Sunday
came round, and he was left alone, he took
the opportunity to kill and bury two hens.

102 DOG STORIES

A claw half-uncovered betrayed what he had
done. His master did not beat him, but took
hold of him, and talked to him, most bitterly,
most severely. " You've been guilty of the
sin of murder, sir, — and on the Sabbath day,
too ; and you, a clergyman's dog, taking a
mean advantage of my absence ! " &c. He
talked on and on for a long time, in the same
serious and reproachful strain. Early the
next morning the master had to leave home
for a day or so ; and he did so without
speaking a word of kindness to the dog,
because he said he wished him to feel
himself in disgrace. On his return, the
first thing he was told was, " The dog is
dead. He never ate nor drank after you
had spoken to him ; he just lay and pined
away, and he died an hour ago."

L. G. GILLUM.

FROM THE "SPECTATOR? 103

A CONSCIENCE-STRICKEN DOG.

[Feb. i, 1879.]

You have frequently published letters con-
taining stories bearing on the question of the
moral nature and the future of the lower
animals. I venture to send you some facts
about a dog, narrated to me by a lady, whose
name and address I enclose for your own
satisfaction, and at my request written down
by her as follows —

" A young fox-terrier, about eight months
old, took a great fancy to a small brush, of
Indian workmanship, lying on the drawing-
room table. It had been punished more
than once for jumping on the table and
taking it. On one occasion, the little dog
was left alone in the room accidentally. On
my return, it jumped to greet me as usual,
and I said, ' Have you been a good little dog
while you have been left alone ? ' Immedi-
ately it put its tail between its legs and slunk
off into ;m adjoining room, and brought back
the little brush in its mouth from where it
had hidden it.

104 DOG STORIES

" I was much struck with what appeared
to me a remarkable instance of a dog posses-
sing a conscience, and a few months after-
wards, finding it again alone in the room,
I asked the same question, while patting it.
At once I saw it had been up to some
mischief, for with the same look of shame
it walked slowly to one of the windows,
where it lay down, with its nose pointing to
a letter bitten and torn into shreds. On a
third occasion, it showed me where it had
strewn a number of little tickets about the
floor, for doing which it had been reproved
previously. I cannot account for these facts,
except by supposing the dog must have a
conscience."

The conduct of this dog seems to me, sir,
to exhibit something different from fear of
punishment, viz., a sense of shame, a re-
morse, a desire to confess his fault, and even
to expiate it by punishment, in order to feel
the guilt no longer. He rather sought
punishment, than feared it.

TH. HILL.

FROM THE " SPECTA TOR." 105

A DOG'S AFFECTION.

[April 24, 1875.]

I SAW an anecdote in your paper the other
week illustrative of the sagacity of a dog.
Kindly allow me to place upon record, as a
kind of a companion picture, an anecdote
showing the affection of one of the canine
species — a fine young retriever. For some
weeks I have been staying away from my
house in the country, where is the fine young
retriever in question. Well, last week the
household missed him for hours, and began
to think he was lost. Nothing of the kind,
however. The servant, happening to go up
to my bedroom, found him with his head
resting on my pillow, moaning heavily, and
it was only with great difficulty that she
could drive him away. Surely it is incidents
such as these that have made so many great
men rail against humanity and uphold their
dog!

WILL WILLIAMS.

106 DOG STORIES

AFFECTION.

\Sept. 15, 1894-]

As you sometimes admit anecdotes of animals
into the Spectator, perhaps you may consider
the following fact worthy of record. In a
hotel where I am staying, being distressed
by the cry of anguish of a dog occasionally,
I inquired the cause, and was told that when-
ever he happens to be in the hall when
luggage is brought down to go in the
omnibus, he utters these bitter cries, and
has to be removed. His master left him
here many months ago, and the supposition
is that the sight of the luggage and omnibus
recalls his loss ; and is another instance of
the faithful affection of these half-human
creatures.

I. K.

FROM THE " SPECTATOR? 107

SYMPATHY IN A DOG.

30, 1892.]

THE article, " Animals in Sickness," in the
Spectator of July 23rd, has reminded me of
the following anecdote, which was told to me
some years ago by a butcher residing at
Brodick, in the Isle of Arran. He told me
that he had had two collie dogs at the same
time, one old and the other young. The old
dog became useless through age, and was
drowned in the sea at Brodick. A few days
afterwards, its body was washed ashore, and
it was discovered by the young dog, who was
seen immediately to go to the butcher's shop
and take away a piece of meat and lay it
at the dead dog's mo>>th. The young dog
evidently thought that the meat would revive
his old comrade, and thereby showed re-
markable sympathy in aid of, to him, the
apparent " weak."

DAVID HANNAY.

io8 DOG STORIES

A DOG'S HUMANITY.

[April i%, 1891.]

POSSIBLY it is from an excess of the " maudlin
sentimentality" of which physiologists com-
plain in those who protest against cruelty to
animals, that I find it almost painful to read
such pathetic stories of dogs as the one
given by Miss Cobbe in the Spectator of
April nth ; for they tell of such intelligence
and devotion, that, remembering the in-
human way in which our poor dogs are too
often treated, we feel it would be almost
better if they lacked these human qualities.
The following is an anecdote of the same
kind, that ever since I heard it, I have been
intending to send it to the Spectator. The
servant-man of one of my friends took a
kitten to a pond with the intention of drown-
ing it. His master's dog was with him, and
when the kitten was thrown into the water,
the dog sprang in and brought it back safely
to land. A second time the man threw it in',
and again the dog rescued it ; and when for
the third time the man tried to drown it, the

FROM THE "SPECTATOR" 109

dog, as resolute to save the little helpless life
as the man was to destroy it, swam with it
to the other side of the pool, running all the
way home with it, and safely depositing it
before the kitchen fire ; and " ever after "
they were inseparable, sharing even the
same bed !

When not long ago I came across the
noble sentiment that "hecatombs of brutes
should be tortured, if man thereby could be
saved one pang," I found myself dimly
wondering what constituted a " brute."
Certainly, in the incident I have just given,
the " brute " was not the dog !

S. W.

no DOG STORIES

A CANINE MEMBER OF THE
S.P.C.A.

\_June 1 8, 1892.]

IF you think this little anecdote of canine
friendliness worthy of the Spectator, will you
insert it for me ? Last week a sick dog took
up its abode in the field behind our house,
and after seeing the poor thing lying there
for some time, I took it food and milk-and-
water. The next day it was still there, and
when I was going out to feed it, I saw that
a small pug was running about it, so I took
a whip out with me to drive it away. The
pug planted itself between me and the sick
dog, and barked at me savagely, but at last
I drove it away, and again gave food and
milk-and-water to my protege. The little
pug watched me for a few moments, and as
soon as he felt quite assured that my inten-
tions towards the sick dog were friendly, it
ran to me wagging its tail, leapt up to my
shoulder, and licked my face and hands, nor
would it touch the water till the invalid had
had all it wanted. I suppose that it was

FROM THE « SPECTA TOR? 1 1 .

satisfied that its companion was in good
hands, for it trotted happily away, and did
not appear upon the scene again.

VIOLET DAVIES.

112 DOG STORIED

A DOG'S COURTESY.

[Nov. 29, 1890.]

IN your article on Mr. Nettleship's pictures
of animals, you note the delicacy of a dog
that has been properly trained in the matter
of taking its food. My little dog is not only
most dainty in that particular, but strictly
observes the courtesy, which is natural, not
taught, of not beginning his dinner (served
on white napery that is never soiled) until
his master begins his own. No amount of
coaxing on the part of the ladies (they do
not wait) will induce him to eat if I am late :
he merely consents to have his muzzle taken
off, inspects his dinner, and then seeks his
master s room, where he waits to accompany
him in orderly fashion downstairs.

C. HARPER.

FROM THE " SPECTA TOK." 1 1 3

CANINE JEALOUSY.

[Dec. 12, 1891.]

I AM not versed in dog-lore, and it may be
that my love for the animal makes me an
ill judge of the importance of the following
story ; but a friend vouches for its truth, and
to my mind it has its importance, not from
its display of jealousy, but from the dog's
deliberate acceptance of the undoubtedly
changed condition, and the clearly meta-
physical character of his motive.

The story is this. A young man had
owned for some years a dog who was his
constant companion. Recently the young
man married, and moved with his bride and
his dog into a house on the opposite side of the
street from his father's house, his own former
home. The dog was not happy, for the
time and attention which had formerly been
his was now given to the young wife. In
many ways he showed his unhappiness and
displeasure, in spite of the fact that the
master tried to reconcile him and the bride
to win him. One day when the master
8

ri4 DOG STORIES

came home, his wife sat on his knee, while
Jack was lying by the fire. He rose from
his place, came over to the couple, and
expressed his disapproval. "Why, Jack,"
said the master, " this is all right, she's a
good girl," and as he spoke, he patted her
arm. Jack looked up at him, turned away,
and left the room. In a moment they heard
a noise, and going into the hall, they found
Jack dragging his bed downstairs. When
he reached the front door, he whined to be
let out, and when the door was opened, he
dragged his bed down the steps, across the
street to his old home, where he scratched
for admittance. Since then he has never
been back to his master, refusing all over-
tures.

CHAS. MORRIS ADDISON.

FROM THE "SPECTATOR: 115

A JEALOUS DOG.

\Jan. 12, 1895.]

I WAS greatly interested in the story of the
generosity shown by a dog, as related in the
Spectator of January 5th, because of a similar
case within my own knowledge, and yet so
different, as to prove that the dispositions
of animals are as varied as those of human
beings. A friend of mine had two fox-
terriers, inseparable companions, and both
equally devoted to their mistress. On one
occasion, when the family had been away
from home for some time, and were return-
ing, one of these pets, not being well, was
brought back with its mistress, while the
other was left to follow with the horses, &c.,
and did not arrive for three days. On
entering the house, the dog had a very
sullen appearance, took no notice of any one,
but searched everywhere till he found his
companion ; then flew at his throat, and
would have killed him but for timely succour !
Could any human being have indulged in a
more rankling jealousy ?

E. A. K.

ii6 DOG STORIES

A DOG THAT SCORNED TO BE
JEALOUS.

{Jan. 5, 1895.]

THE following history of canine sympathy
may interest your readers. I was once the
happy owner of a large and beautiful bull-
terrier, Rose, and at the same time of a still
dearer, though less beautiful, little mongrel,
Fan, both passionately attached to a member
of my household, commonly called their best
friend. A certain shawl belonging to this
adored friend was especially sacred in Fan's
eyes. She never allowed any one to touch
it without remonstrance — Rose least of all —
and when her best friend was in bed, it was
Fan's custom to ensconce herself in her arms,
and not to allow any dog, and only the most
favoured of human beings, to approach with-
out violent growlings, if not worse. Fan
was a tiny grandmother who had long ruled
the household ; Rose, an inexperienced new-
comer. One day, in a fit of youthful folly,
Rose jumped over a gate and spiked herself
badly, and was consigned for ten davs to the

FROM THE « SPECTA TOR" 1 17

care of the veterinary surgeon. On her
return, she was cordially welcomed by Fan
and myself ; but when she rushed upstairs to
the room of her best friend (then confined to
her bed), my mind forboded mischief. We
followed, and I opened the door. With one
bound Rose flew into her best friend's arms,
taking Fan's very own place, and was lost
in a rapture of licking and being caressed.
Fan flew after her, but to my amazement,
instead of the fury I expected, it was to join
with heart and tongue in the licking and
caressing. She licked Rose as if she had
been a long-lost puppy, instead of an in-
truder ; and then, of her own accord, turned
away, leaving Rose in possession, and took
up a distant place on the foot of the bed,
appealing to me with an almost human
expression of mingled feelings — the heroic
self-abnegation of new-born sympathy strug-
gling with natural jealousy. The better
feelings triumphed (not, of course, unsup-
ported by human recognition and applause),
till both dogs fell asleep in their strangely
reversed positions. After this, there was a

ii8 DOG STORIES.

slight temporary failure in Fan's perhaps
overstrained self-conquest ; but on the next
day but one she actually, for the first (and
last) time in her life, made Rose welcome to
a place beside her on the sacred shawl ;
where again they slept side by side like
sisters. This, however, was the last gleam
of the special sympathy called forth by
Rose's troubles. From that day Fan de-
cidedly and finally resumed her jealous
occupation and guardianship of all sacred
places and things, and maintained it energeti-
cally to her life's end.

C E. S.

DOGS AND THE ARTS.

MUSIC AND DOGS.

\Oct. 24, 1891.]

DOGS, as well as horses, can recognise
tunes. Many years ago a friend, during a
short absence from our station on the
Kurrumfooler, lent my sister a pet dog.
Cissie was constantly in the room while
playing and singing went on, without taking
any notice ; but whenever the temporary
mistress began singing one favourite song
of the absent mistress's, the dog would jump
on a chair by her side with evident pleasure.

O. H. G.

\Oct. 24, 1891.]

I HAVE read with much interest your
correspondent's letter on the capability of
animals to distinguish tunes. I had a small
dog who, when first I got him, would have
howled incessantly during singing. This,
however, he was not allowed to do, except

122 DOG STORIES

to one tune, which he soon knew and always
joined in, not attempting to "sing" other
songs. We tried every sort of experiment
to see if he would recognise his own tune,
which he invariably did, and would whine if
the air was hummed quite quietly.

C. F. HARRISON.

[Oct. 24, 1891.]

ANENT " Orpheus at the Zoo," the follow-
ing facts may interest you. Of two dogs of
mine, one showed a great fondness for music.
She (though usually my shadow) would
always leave me to go to a room where a
piano was being played, and the more she
liked the music, the closer she crept to the
player, even if a stranger to her. If, how-
ever, one began to play scales or exercises,
she would get up, walk to the door, sit
down, and, after waiting a bit, go away out
of sight, but not out of hearing, for she soon
appeared again on the resumption of music
to her taste. On the other hand, mere
" strumming " very quickly obliged her to
go right away out of hearing. I confess

FROM THE « SPECTATOR:* 113

that I have many times plagued the poor
dog by thus sending her backwards and
forwards. Her looks were often very
comical. The other dog evidently hated
music — would try to push a player from the
piano, go out of hearing, and show other
unmistakable signs of dislike. A band
would draw one dog out to listen, while
the other rushed away to hide. In one
house the dog first mentioned had, for some
reason or other, a particular objection to
the room where the piano was, and never
willingly stayed there. Music would bring
her in, but only to sigh and moan, evidently
in great pity for herself at being obliged to
listen under such (to her) trying conditions.
From these and other observations I am
convinced that there is the musical dog as
well as the unmusical, just as with human
beings. D.

124 DOG STORIES

RECOGNITION OF LIKENESSES
BY DOGS.

{May 5, 1894.]

IN the Spectator of April 2ist there is an
article on Apes, in which the following
occurs : — " Monkeys, we believe, alone
among animals can recognise the meaning
of a picture." It may interest some of your
readers to hear that certain other animals
can also do this, two instances having come
under my own observation. A cat belonging
to a little girl I know was on the child's bed
one morning, and made a spring at a picture
of a thrush, about life-size, which was hang-
ing near. The other case is that of a dog —
a female Irish terrier — who is in the habit
of running with her mistress's pony carriage.
When she sees the pony being harnessed,
she often shows her delight by jumping up
at its head and barking. In a certain shop
to which she sometimes goes with her mis-
tress there is a picture of a horse hanging.
The dog invariably behaves in exactly the
same manner to this, jumping up and bark-

FROM THE "SPECTATOR." 125

ing at it, thus showing unmistakably that
she recognises its meaning.

JULIA ANDREWS.

May 19, 1894.

THE following instance bears on the sub-
ject discussed in the Spectator of May 5th.
We had for a newcomer to our circle a little
terrier dog. I was informed it had been
seen in the library facing a large-sized
portrait of myself, and barking furiously.
I was somewhat sceptical until a day or two
later I saw it repeat the performance. I
have wondered whether it was because the
dog thought it a good or bad representation
of the original, and so was complimenting or
otherwise the artist.

FRANK WRIGHT.

\_May 19, 1894.]

APROPOS of the recognition of pictures by
dogs {Spectator, May 5th), I think you may
be interested in the two following facts which
came under my notice a few years ago. A
sagacious but quite uneducated old terrier

126 DOG STORIES

came with his master to call for me, and
coiled himself on the hearthrug while we
talked. Turning himself round in the
intervals of slumber, his eye caught an oil-
painting just over his head (a life-size half-
length of a gentleman). He immediately
sat up, showed his teeth, and growled — not
once, but continually — as both angry and
mortified that neither eyes nor nose had
given him notice of the arrival of a
stranger! The next instance was similar,
except that the chief actor was a young,
intelligent collie, who, on the sudden dis-
covery of a man looking at him from the
wall, barked long and furiously. In both
instances, after their excitement had sub-
sided, I led the dogs to look at another
picture similar in size, and also of a gentle-
man, but neither of them would take the
smallest notice of it. I need only add that
the picture which the dogs appreciated was
painted by Sir Henry Raeburn — the other
was not. Might not a few sagacious canine
members be a useful addition to the Royal
Academy Hanging Committee ?

B. THOMSON.

FROM THE " SPECTA TOR" 1 27

[May 26, 1894.]

MANY years ago I had a similar experience
to Mr. Frank Wright. A likeness of myself,
head and shoulders, drawn in chalk from a
photograph, and enlarged to nearly life size,
hung on the dining-room wall of a house I
then occupied. One evening my wife silently
called my attention to a young English
terrier, who had not been very long with
us, looking up at it very steadfastly. He
regarded it for about a minute in silence,
and at last broke out into a loud bark,
which I supposed to mean that in his
opinion the wall was not my proper place,
and that only an evil genius could have
set anything like me in such a position.

G.

\June 2, 1894.]

You were so good as to insert my little
account of the politeness of a parrot in the
Spectator, will you now allow me also to bear
witness to the recognition of a likeness by a
dog ? Some time ago I was painting two
portraits in the country, and one day by

I28 DOG STORIES

chance I placed the picture of my hostess
on the ground. Immediately her old spaniel
came and gazed intently at the face for
several seconds. Then he smelt at the
canvas, and, unsatisfied, walked round and
investigated the back. Finally, having dis-
covered the deception, he turned away in
manifest disgust, and nothing that we could
do or say, on that day or on any other, would
induce that dog to look at that picture again.
We then tried him by putting my portrait of
his master also on the ground, but he simply
gave it a kind of casual contemptuous side-
glance and took no further notice of it. We
attributed this not to any difference in the
merits or demerits of the two portraits, but
simply to the fact that the dog felt he had
been deceived once, but was not to be so
taken in again.

LOUISA STARR CANZIANI.

FROM THE "SPECTATORS 129

RECOGNITION BY ANIMALS OF
PICTURES.

\Sept. 7, 1889.]

THIRTY years ago I was staying at Langley,
near Chippenham, with a lady who was
working a large screen, on which she de-
picted in " raised " work (as it was then called)
a life-sized cat on a cushion. The host, a
sportsman now dead, was much struck with
the similarity to life of the cat, so he fetched
his dog (alas ! like too many of the species),
a cat-hater. The animal made a dead set at
the (wool) cat, and but for the master's
vigorous clutching him by the collar, the
cushion would have been torn into atoms.
I related this tale lately in Oxford, and my
hearer told me that a friend in the Beving-
ton Road had just painted a bird on a fire-
screen, and her cat flew at it.

My own old dog, Scaramouch (a pet oi

the Duke of Albany's in his undergraduate

days), disliked being washed, and when I

showed him a large Graphic picture of a

9

iy> DOG STORIES.

child scrubbing a fox-terrier in a tub, he
turned his head away ruefully, and would not
look at his brother in adversity.

J M. HULBERT.

DOG FRIENDSHIPS.

DOG FRIENDS.

{Feb. 1 6, 1889.]

THE following story of friendship between
two dogs may, I think, interest some of your
readers. Some time ago I used often to stay
with a friend in Wiltshire, whose park is
separated from the house by a lake which is
about a hundred and fifty yards broad at the
narrowest part. Being extremely fond of
animals, I soon became intimate with two
delightful dogs belonging to my hostess, a
large collie, called Jasper, and a rough Skye
terrier, Sandie. The pair were devoted
friends, if possible always went out together,
and, sad to relate, even poached together.
One afternoon I called them, as usual, to go
for a walk, and making my way to the lake,
I determined to row across and wander about
in the deer-park. Without thinking of my
two companions, I got into the boat and
pushed off. Jasper at once jumped into the

134 DOG STORIES

water and gaily followed the boat ; half way
across he and I were both startled by de-
spairing howls, and stopping to look back,
we saw poor little Sandie running up and
down the bank, and bitterly bewailing the
cruelty of his two so-called friends in leaving
him behind. Hardening my heart, I sat still
in silence, and simply watched. Jasper was
clearly distressed ; he swam round the boat,
and looking up into my face, said unmis-
takably with his wise brown eyes, "Why
don't you go to the rescue ? " Seeing, how-
ever, that I showed no signs of intelligence,
he made up his mind to settle the difficulty
himself, so turned and swam back to forlorn
little Sandie ; there was a moment's pause, I
suppose for explanations, and then, to my
surprise and amusement, Jasper stood still,
half out and half in the water, and Sandie
scrambled on to his back, his front paws
resting on Jasper's neck, who swam across
the lake and landed him safely in the deer-
park ! I need not describe the evident pride
of the one, or the gratitude of the other.

ROY,

FROM THE "SPECTATOR* 135

FRIENDSHIPS OF DOGS WITH
OTHER ANIMALS.

A LESSON.

[Feb. 23, 1889.]

YOUR correspondent " Roy's " very interest-
ing account of " A Canine Friendship "
tempts me to send you the following about
two Dandy Dinmonts in this neighbourhood.

Friends of mine in Dumfriesshire had in
their house two Dandie Dinmont dogs who
were inseparable friends and constant com-
panions in all that was going on. One day
one of these dogs disappeared unaccountably,
and nothing was seen of it for a week. His
owners were very vexed, thinking he must
have got within the range of some keeper's
gun or met with some other accident.

But the absentee's home-keeping com-
panion was greatly distressed ; he moped
about, and would not touch any food for
several days; till, unexpectedly on my friend's
part, the truant suddenly reappeared and
showed himself in the house. The dog who

136 DOG STORIES

had remained at home, when he saw the
arrival of his former friend, looked steadily
at him for a few seconds, and then, without
further parley, went at him and gave the
truant a thoroughly sound thrashing. I always
explain this to myself by supposing that the
home-keeping dog decided that the truant
had caused him for several days needless
anxiety and abstinence from food, and that
the truant must learn by painful experience
that such behaviour could not be lightly
condoned by his inseparable companion.

J. G.

CONSCIOUS AUTOMATA.

\_7ulyv, 1875.]

I HAVE lately heard a story that I hope you
may think worthy of a place among your
illustrations of the thoughtful intelligence of
" Conscious Automata." Many years ago, a
family having a house in Grosvenor Square,
and a place in the country (I think in War-
wickshire), owned a terrier, who, in the
country, made great friends with a large
Newfoundland. When they came to town

FROM THE " SPEC TA TOR" 1 37

they brought the terrier, and he resided in
a mews where he was much annoyed by a
cur who lived next door, and attacked him
whenever he came out. One day the terrier
disappeared, but after a little time returned,
bringing with him his big friend, who gave
the vulgar bully a satisfactory thrashing —
not attempting to kill him. This has been
told me by an old servant, who was then a
young man, living in service in London, close
to the owners of the dogs. He answers for
the facts of the story as he heard them at

the time.

F. C.

DOG AND PIGEON.

{Sept. 22, 1888.]

THE Spectator does not disdain anecdotes of
dogs and their doings, and I think the fol-
lowing history, to which I can bear personal
testimony, may be found not uninteresting to
your readers. At this delightful house in
Perthshire, where I am on a visit, there is a
well-bred pointer, named Fop, who, when not
engaged in his professional pursuits on the

138 DOG STORIES

moor, lives chiefly in a kennel placed in a
loose-box adjoining the other stables attached
to the house. Nearly a year ago there were
a pair of pigeons who lived in and about
the stable yard. One of the birds died, and
its bereaved mate at once attached itself for
society and protection to the dog, and has
been its constant companion ever since. On
the days when the sportsmen are not seeking
grouse the dog is in his kennel, and the
pigeon is always his close attendant. She
roosts on a rack over the manger of the stable,
and in the day-time is either strutting about
preening her feathers, taking her meals from
the dog's biscuit and water tin, or quite as
often sitting in the kennel by his side, nestling
close to him. Fop, who is an amiable and
rather sentimental being, takes no apparent
notice of his companion, except that we
observe him, in jumping into or out of his
kennel while the pigeon is there, to take
obvious care not to crush or disturb her in
any way. The only other symptom Fop
has shown of being jealous for the pigeon's
comfort and convenience is that when ol late

FROM THE " SPEC TA TOR'' 1 39

two chickens from the stable-yard wandered
into the apartment where the dog and pigeon
reside, he very promptly bit their heads off,
as if in mute intimation that one bird is
company, and two (or rather three) are none.

The story is rather one of a pigeon than
a dog, for it is quite evident that she is the
devoted friend, and that he acquiesces in
the friendship. On the days when Fop is
taken, to his infinite delight, on to the moor,
the pigeon is much concerned. She follows
him as far as she dare, taking a series of
short flights over his head, until a little wood
is reached, through which the keeper and
dogs have to take their way. At this point
her courage fails her, and she returns to the
stable, to wait hopefully for her comrade's
return.

This singular alliance is a great joy and
interest to the keepers, coachmen, and grooms
of the establishment, and as the keeper gave
me a strong hint that the story ought to be
told in print, adding that he had seen much
less noteworthy incidents of animal life pro-
moted to such honour, I have ventured to

I4o DOG STORIES

send it to you. I may add that the pigeon
is of the kind called "Jacobin," and is white,
with a black wing. Is there any precedent
for such close intimacies between animals so
widely separated in kind and habit?

ALFRED AINGER.

A HEN AND PUPPIES.

\Sept. 29, 1888.]

IN reply to Mr. Ainger's question as to there
being " any precedent for such close inti-
macies between animals so widely separated
in kind and habit" as the dog and pigeon
mentioned in his interesting letter, I can
mention two cases which have come under
my notice this last summer at my farm in
Berkshire. In one case the friendship existed
between a pullet and a pig. The pullet
never left the farmyard to join in the rambles
of the other fowls, but kept near the pig all
day, occasionally roosting on its friend's back
when taking its afternoon nap.

The other case was more remarkable. A
hen, with strong motherly instincts, but no
family of her own, acted for several weeks as

FROM THE "SPECTATOR? 141

foster-mother to eight spaniel puppies. The
real mother, a very gentle creature, soon
acquiesced in the arrangement. The hen
covered the puppies with her wings just as
though they had been chickens, and remained
with them day and night. When they began
to walk she was still their constant attendant;
when they learned to lap and eat a little she
would " call " them and break up their food.
As they grew older the poor foster-mother
had her patience sorely tried. They barked
and capered around her, leading her alto-
gether a sad life. After the puppies deserted
her she was often seen sitting close to their
mother, the pair apparently quite understand-
ing each other. My children were naturally
delighted to watch these strange sights, and
the hen, though not at other times very
tame, maintained perfect equanimity while
they played with the puppies around her.
F. C. MAXWELL.

A DOG AND A RABBIT.

{Sept. 29, 1888.]
MR. AINGER, in giving his interesting inci-

i42 DOG STORIES

dent of strange friendships between animals,
asks if there are any precedents for such
incongruous intimacy as he saw between a
dog and a pigeon. To most close observers
of animals, such curious cases, though always
noteworthy, are well known ; naturalists like
Buckland and many others have frequently
recorded them.

With the view of adding to the lore on
this matter, permit me to cite the following.
Two Scotch terriers are lying before the
fire. Prince is an amiable sort of dog ; Jack
is rather surly ; both good vermin-killers and
fond of hunting. I bring in a common buck
rabbit, and place it beside the dogs, with
the intimation they were not to touch it.
Trust, and then alliance, quickly grew be-
tween it and Prince, whilst Jack shows
unmistakable hatred. In a few days the
two friends, with their paws absurdly clasp-
ing each other's necks, sleep happily on the
rug ; they play together, they chase each
other up and down the stairs and all over
the house at full speed, and when tired come
back to the rug. Jack refusing all this

FROM THE "SPECTATOR? 143

sort of thing, makes the rabbit look at him
with a sort of awe. Does Bunny make no
mess in the house ? None whatever ; he
goes into the garden as the dogs do, and
like them, scratches at the door when he
wants to return. All this he does without
any instruction from us. After a while,
being very fond of him, we put on the floor
a pretty pink-eyed doe as a present. He
stares, sniffs her all over, kills her on the
spot, and goes for a romp with his dear
Prince. Jack always sleeps under my bed
from choice, and just before I put out the
light as I lie, stands up against the bed for
his last pat and "good-night." Bunny has
observed all this, and quietly creeps into
the room, which he refuses to leave ; then
likewise always asks for his "good-night,"
and sleeps somewhere near his great
"ideal."

Another instance, published in " Loch
Creran " by my friend Mr. Anderson Smith.
I punished my cat for killing a chicken.
The next day he is seen to carry a live
chicken in his mouth and lay it down to

i44 DOG STORIES

the hen he had previously robbed. He
and the chicken afterwards were frequently
observed leaving the orchard together, and
travelling through the courtyard and back
passages, find their way to the kitchen
fireplace, where they would sleep in good
fellowship. This chicken, I discovered, had
been stolen nearly two miles away. It is
important to remark that the cat, though
a cruel bird-killer, never touched another
chicken. Was the idea of compensation in
the cat's mind? If not that, all the circum-
stances are singularly coincident. And why
did the chicken prefer the cat's companion-
ship to that of its fellows?

E. W. PHIBBS.

ANOTHER PIGEON STORY.

[Oct. 6, 1888.]

MR. AINGER'S letter in the Spectator of
September 22nd reminds me of an almost
identical friendship that existed some years
ago at Grove House, Knutsford. A long-
haired mastiff was kept chained as a watch-
dog, and when a white fantail pigeon's mate

FROM THE" SPECTATOR* 14$

died, it attached itselt to the mastiff, and
was continually with it in the kennel. When
the dog had its breakfast of porridge and
milk, the pigeon would eat out of the bowl
at the same time ; and when the dog had
finished, it would lie flat on its side while
the pigeon perched on its head and pecked
off the grains of oatmeal that stuck to the
long hair round its mouth. The only danger
to the pigeon seemed to be that when the dog
rushed out of the kennel suddenly to bark,
it seemed to forget the pigeon, and we used
to fear that the heavy chain might hurt it ;
but it never was hurt. This friendship
lasted many years, till one of the two, I
forget which, died.

ISABEL JAMISON.

DOG AND KITTENS.

\July I, 1893.]

THE following story may, perhaps, interest
some of your readers :— Willie is a small,
rough-haired terrier, a truculent and aggres-
sive character, the terror of tramps, in a
skirmish with one of whom he has lost an

JO

146 DOG STORIES

eye. He rules the kitchen with a rod of
iron, the inmate there admiring and fearing
him. Next to tramps, Willie hates cats ;
he has been flogged again and again for
chasing the neighbour's "Tom"; nothing can
stop him rushing at the alien cat, however.
But for his own domestic " Tabby " he has
tolerance and a certain amount of affection ;
if another dog were to attack her, dire would
be the warfare. A while ago, this cat had
three kittens ; two were taken by the maid
and placed in a bucket of water, and left to
their fate. Before that fate had come Willie
perceived them ; he snatched them from the
bucket one by one, and carried them to his
kennel. The maid attempted to get them
away, but Willie flew at her with fury, and
then returned to lick first one and then the
other, to shove them up together, and lie
down near them, and in every way to give
the poor half-dead things a chance. This
went on for some time ; but when at last
there was no sign of breath, and he saw that
they were hopelessly dead, he marched out of
the kennel, shook himself, and indicated to

FROM THE "SPECTATOR? 147

the maid that she might now proceed to
bury them, that they were past intelligent
treatment. He treats the remaining and
living kitten with the indifference of the
scientific for the normal.

L. H.

A CANINE NURSE.

[May 1 8, 1895.]

BEING a frequent reader of anecdotes of the
sagacity of animals in your paper, I think
you may consider the following trait of
character in a dog worthy of notice. Jack,
a rough-haired fox-terrier of quiet disposition,
but a good ratter, and an inveterate enemy
to strange or neighbouring cats, of whom,
to my sorrow, he has slain at least one,
became without effort the attached friend
of a minute kitten introduced into the house
last November. This friendship has been
continued without intermission, and is re-
ciprocated by the now full-grown cat. She,
unfortunately, got caught in a rabbit-trap not
long ago, but escaped with no further injury
than a lacerated paw, which for some time

1 48 DOG STORIES

caused her much pain and annoyance.
Every morning Jack was to be seen tenderly
licking the paw of the interesting invalid,
to which kind nursing no doubt her rapid
recovery may be attributed ; and though she
is now more than convalescent and able to
enjoy her usual game of play, he still greets her
each morning with a gentle inquiring lick on
the injured paw, just to see if it is all right
before proceeding to roll her over in their
accustomed gambols. This seems to me
a marked instance of individual affection
overcoming race-antipathy.

BLANCHE ROCHFORT.

A CURIOUS FRIENDSHIP.

[Feb. 6, 1875.]

I HAVE two dogs, two cats, and a kitten.
Many years of experience have shown me,
in the teeth of all proverbs, that cats and
dogs, members of the same household, live
together quite as amicably as human beings.
Only, like human beings, they have their
dislikes and preferences for each other. At
the present time, my dog Snow is on terms

FROM THE " SPECTATOR? 149

of hearty friendship with my grey cat Kitty,
but of polite indifference with my black
cat Toppy.

Toppy, for some years back, has been
subject to fits, owing, it is considered, to the
lodgment of some small shot near her spine,
whilst out trespassing (or poaching).

Yesterday Snow rushed into the kitchen
with face so anxious and piteous that my
servants both exclaimed that something must
have happened ; gave signs, as he can do,
that somebody was to go with him, and
was followed into the drawing-room, where
Toppy, left alone, had fallen under the
grate in a fit, and was writhing amid the
ashes and embers. She was rescued, and
beyond a little singeing, does not seem much
the worse.

To reach the kitchen, Snow must have
pushed open a red-baize door, which he
has never been known to open before, and
before which he will stay barking for ten
minutes at a time to be let through.

If any biped, supposing himself to be
endowed with reason, humanity, and articu-

ISO

DOG STORIES

late speech, tells me that Snow is a conscious
automaton, can I give him any other answer
than, " You're another " ?

J. M. L.

AN ACT OF CANINE FRIENDSHIP.

[Nov. 6, 1880.]

I HAVE read from time to time in the pages
of the Spectator instances of canine sagacity
furnished by your correspondents, which
have, no doubt, interested many others
besides myself. The following incident
occurred last Saturday, in my walk from
the beach, which, perhaps, may amuse your
readers, as it did me.

My curiosity was excited by seeing a
young retriever on his hind legs licking very
ardently the face of a nice-looking donkey,
who was tethered on the bank. After licking
his face all over for a long time, he began
to frisk around him, evidently anxious to
have a trot together; but, finding that his
friend was tied by a rope, he deliberately
began to gnaw it, and in a very short time
succeeded in setting him free! The owner

FROM THE "SPECTATOR? 151

of the donkey, who happened to be at work
close by, then interfered, and put a stop to
their little game, or otherwise Master Neddy
would, no doubt, have been seduced to join
in a scamper. From the warmth of the
dog's salutes, I imagine that he and the
donkey were old friends.

S. RICHARDS.

DOG AND CANARY.

{Nov. 20, 1880.]

I WAS much interested in the account of the
friendship that existed between the young
retriever and the donkey whom he released
by gnawing the rope. The little incident
I send of another retriever may also interest
your readers. A friend of mine had a pet
canary, while her brother was the owner
of a retriever that was also much petted.
One day the canary escaped from the house,
and was seen flying about the grounds for a
few days, and when it perched was generally
on high elm-trees. At last it vanished from
view, and this dear little pet was mourned
for as lost or dead. But after the interval

152 DOG STORIES

of another day or so, the retriever came
in with the canary in his mouth, carrying it
most delicately, and went up to the owner
of the bird, delivering it into her hands
without even the feathers being injured.
Surely nothing could illustrate more beauti-
fully faithful love and gentleness in a dog
than this.

E. TILL.

CAT-AND-DOG LOVE.

{April 13, 1878.]

WOULD you allow me, as a cat fancier of
nearly thirty years' standing, to corroborate,
by a personal experience, Mr. Balfour's
testimony in your last issue to the possibility
of a genuine attachment between a cat and
a dog? A few weeks ago, I called upon
a bachelor friend who has two pets, a hand-
some black female cat, of the name of Kate,
and a bright little terrier, responding to the
call of David. My friend assured me that
they lived on the most affectionate terms.
They were certainly not demonstrative, but
they were importations from Scotland, and
refrained from " spooning " before folk. The

FROM THE "SPECTATOR" 153

character of the attachment was soon tested.
Another acquaintance entered the room,
accompanied by a terrier of about the same
size as David, although not of the same
variety. This dog made at once for the
cat, then resting in front of the fire. She
backed against the wall, and prepared for
a fight, in which, if I may judge from her
size, she would have been victorious. But
she was saved the trouble of using her claws.
Before she could utter a feline equivalent for
"Jack Robinson," before the door could be
closed, David rushed at the intruder, and
literally ran him out of the room and down
two flights of stairs, with a rapidity worthy
of a member of the Irish Constabulary. By
the time he returned, his Dulcinea had
arranged herself for another nap, but she
opened one eye as her companion took his
place by his side, and —

" Betwixt her darkness and his brightness,
There passed a mutual glance of great politeness."

I witnessed a similar scene some years
ago in a country inn in the north of Scotland.

154 DOG STORIES.

On that occasion, one dog defended against
another a favourite cat and a favourite hen.
Speaking of cats, can any one say what
has become of the late Pope's black cat,
Morello ? Did he die before his master, or
has some one adopted him ? Chateaubriand,
as everybody knows, adopted Micetto, the
grey favourite of Leo XII.

WILLIAM WALLACE.

CURIOUS HABITS OF DOGS.

THE DOG THAT BURIED THE
FROGS.

[Feb. 2, 1895.]

KNOWING your love of animals, and the
interest so often shown in your columns in
their ways, I venture to send you the follow-
ing story I have lately heard from an eye-
witness, and to ask whether you or any of
your readers can throw any light upon the
dog's probable object. The dog in question
was a Scotch terrier. He was one day
observed to appear from a corner of the
garden carrying in his mouth, very gently
and tenderly, a live frog. He proceeded
to lay the frog down upon a flower-bed,
and at once began to dig a hole in the earth,
keeping one eye upon the frog to see that it
did not escape. If it went more than a few
feet from him, he fetched it back, and then
continued his work. Having dug the hole a
certain depth, he then laid the frog, still
157

158 DOG STORIES

alive, at the bottom of it, and promptly
scratched the loose earth back into the hole,
and friend froggy was buried alive! The
dog then went off to the corner of the
garden, and returned with another frog,
which he treated in the same way. This
occurred on more than one occasion ; in
fact, as often as he could find frogs he
occupied himself in burying them alive.
Now dogs generally have some reason for
what they do. What can have been a
dog's reason for burying frogs alive? It
does not appear that he ever dug them
up again to provide himself with a meal.
If, sir, you or any of your readers can throw
any light on this curious, and for the frogs
most uncomfortable, behaviour of my friend's
Scotch terrier, I should be very much
obliged.

R. ACLAND-TROYTE.

FROM THE "SPECTATOR." 159

AN EXPLANATION.

\Feb. 9, 1895-]

I THINK I can explain the puzzle of the
Scotch terrier and his interment of the frogs,
for the satisfaction of your correspondent.
A friend of mine had once a retriever who
was stung by a bee, and ever afterwards,
when the dog found a bee near the ground,
she stamped on it, and then scraped earth
over it and buried it effectually — presumably
to put an end to the danger of further stings.
In like manner, another dog having bitten
a toad, showed every sign of having found
the mouthful to the last degree unpleasant.
Probably Mr. Acland-Troyte's dog had, in
the same way, bitten a toad, and conceived
henceforth that he rendered public service
by putting every toad-like creature he saw
carefully and gingerly " out of harm's way,"
underground

A great number of the buryings and other
odd tricks of dogs must, however, I am sure,
be considered as Atavism, and traced to the
instincts bequeathed by their remote pro-

160 DOG STORIES

genitors when yet " wild in the woods the
noble beastie ran." Such, I believe, is
generally admitted to be the explanation of
the universal habit of every dog before lying
down to turn round two or three times and
scratch its intending bed — even when that
bed is of the softest woollen or silk —
apparently to ascertain that no snakes or
thorns lurk in its sleeping-place.

A dog which I once possessed exhibited
such reversion to ancestral habits in a note-
worthy way. She was a beautiful white
Pomeranian ; and when a litter of puppies
was impending, on one occasion she scratched
an enormous hole in our back-garden in
South Kensington, where her leisure hours
were passed — a hole like the burrow of a
fox. It was not in the least of the character
of the ordinary circular punch-bowl so often
scooped out by idle or impatient dogs,
but a long, deep channel running at a sharp
angle a considerable way underground.
Obviously, it was Yama's conviction that
it was her maternal duty to provide shelter
for her expected offspring, precisely as a

FROM 'THE "SPECTATOR.* id

tox or rabbit must feel it, and as we may
suppose her own ancestresses did on the
shores of the Baltic some thousand genera-
tions ago. When the puppies were born,
Yama and the survivor were established by
me in a most comfortable kennel in the
same garden, with a day nursery and a
night nursery (covered and open) for the
comfort and safety of the puppy. But one
fine morning, when the little creature had
begun to crawl over the inclosure of its small
domain, I happened to go into the garden
while Yama was absent in the house, and
discovered that my little friend was missing.
The puppy had disappeared altogether ; and
at the same time I noticed that the flower-
bed in which Yama had made her excavation
had been nicely smoothed over by the
gardener, who was putting the place in
order. A suspicion instantly seized me, and
I exclaimed, "You have buried my puppy ! ''
I ran to the spot where the hole had been
made, and, having swept aside the gardener's
spadeful of soil, found the deeper part of the
hole, running slanting underground, still
ii

162 DOG STORIES

open. I knelt down and thrust in my arm to
its fullest stretch, and then, at the very end
of the hole, my fingers encountered a little
soft, warm, fluffy ball. The puppy came out
quite happy and uninjured, freshly awakened
from sleep, having shown that his instinct
recognised the suitability of holes in the
ground for the accommodation of puppies;
just as the hereditary instinct of his mother
had led her to prepare one for him, even
in a South Kensington garden !

FRANCES POWER COBBE.

FROM THE "SPECTATOR? 163

A DOG AND HIS DINNER.

[Feb. 1 6, 1895.]

I KNEW a dog in Ireland — a large retriever —
who had been taught always to bring his own
tin dish in his mouth, to be filled at the late
dinner. For some reason his master wished
to make a change, and to feed him twice
a day instead of once, to which he had
always been accustomed. The dog resented
this, and when told to bring his dish, refused,
and it could nowhere be found ; on which
his master spoke angrily to him, and ordered
him to bring the dish at once. With droop-
ing tail and sheepish expression he went
down the length of the garden, and began
scratching up the soil where he had buried
the bowl deep down, to avoid having to
bring it at an hour of which he did not
approve.

A LOVER OF Docs.

1 64 DOG STORIES.

DOGS AND LOOKING-GLASSES.

\June 23, 1894.]

You are fond of odd actions of dogs, so
perhaps the following may be acceptable.
I have two fox-terriers — young dogs — Grip
and Vic. In the morning, at early tea in our
bedroom, Vic gets angry with Grip's re-
flection in the long glass of the wardrobe,
barks at him furiously as he moves about,
and scratches at the glass, quite regardless
of her own face between her and his re-
flection. And when he assaults her from
behind, to make her play with his real self,
she turns round and snaps at him viciously,
and then returns to her attack on his reflection.
He jumps upon the window-sill, and fancies
he sees a squirrel in the garden, and dashes
past her to the door ; she follows the motion
of the reflection till she is past the edge of
the glass, and loses it, when she dashes back
to the glass again. This has occurred several
days in the last week, and seems to me
almost absurd. The dogs are just about a
year old, and so beyond puppy folly, though
very lively and playful still.

A. M. B.

THE SENSE OF HUMOUR AND
CUNNING IN DOGS.

DOGS' SENSE OF HUMOUR.

THE POWER OF IMITATION IN DOGS.

[Oct. 22, 1882.]

THE following anecdote may interest those
of your readers who are accustomed to ob-
serve the characteristic actions of dogs. I
can vouch for its accuracy, as I was an
amused eye-witness, and several members of
my family were also present, and have often
told the story.

A friend of ours and his wife were spend-
ing a musical evening with us, and an old,
black, English terrier, who belonged to the
house, had been in the drawing-room, which
was upstairs. The dog had been kindly
noticed by our friend, who was partially lame
from paralysis. On leaving the drawing-
room the dog followed him to the top of the
staircase (we, with his wife, were waiting

below in the hall), and with cocked tail and

167

168 DOG STORIES

ears stood gravely watching his slow, limping
descent. When the invalid was nearly at
the foot of the stairs the dog began to follow,
limping on three legs (he was quite sound),
in humorous imitation of our poor, afflicted
friend, and this assumed lameness was gravely
kept up till he arrived on the mat. It was
impossible to repress a smile, though our
politeness was at stake, and the unconscious-
ness of our friend added to the difficulty.

A. R.

SENSE OF HUMOUR IN DOGS.

\_July 28, 1888.]

A RECENT anecdote from one of your corres-
pondents about a dog and a hen brought to
my mind an incident, related to me by an
eye-witness, of a dog who had a constant
feud with the fowls, which were prone to
pilfer from the basin containing his dinner.
On one occasion he was lying in front of his
kennel, quietly watching a hen as she made
stealthy and tentative approaches to his
basin, which at length she reached and

FROM THE "SPECTATOR? 169

looked into, finding it perfectly empty. The
dog wagged his tail.

J. R.

A DOG'S SENSE OF HUMOUR.

\jMarch 9, 1895.]

DOES the following dog-story show a sense
of humour ? A retriever was in the habit of
leaving his bed in the kitchen when he heard
his master descending the stairs in the morn-
ing. On one occasion a new kitchen-maid
turned him out of his bed at a much earlier
hour than usual. He looked angrily at her,
but walked out quietly. Time passed, and
he was nowhere to be found. At last, in
going to her bedroom, the kitchen-maid
found him coiled up in her own bed.

B. B.

i;o DOG STORIES

CUNNING DOGS.

A DOG AND A WHIP.

\_May 1 8, 1889.]

You have lately published several dog
stories. Allow me to send you another for
publication should you think it worthy. It
was told me to-day by a lady whom I cross-
examined to get full details : — " Some twenty
years back we had a poodle — white, with one
black ear. After the manner of his race,
he was never quite happy unless he carried
something in his mouth. He was intelligent
and teachable to the last degree. The great
defect in his character was the impossibility
of distinguishing meum from tuum. Any-
thing he could get hold of he seemed to
think, according to his dogged ethics, to be
fairly his own. On one occasion he entered
the room of one of the maidservants and
stole her loaf of bread, carefully shutting the
door after him with his feet — the latter part
being a feat I had taught him. The woman
— Irish — was scared, and thought that the

FROM THE '• SPECTATOR" 171

dog was the devil incarnate. The necessity
of discipline on the one hand, and of occu-
pation on the other, induced me one day to
enter a saddler's shop, situated in a straight
street about half a mile from our house, and
buy a whip. Shortly after my return home
he committed some act of petty larceny, so I
gave him a beating with the whip he had
carried home. Going for a walk next day
the dog, as usual, accompanied me, and was
entrusted with the whip to carry. Directly
we got outside the door he started oft at his
best pace straight down the street, paying
no attention whatever to my repeated calls.
He entered the saddler's shop and deposited
the whip on the floor. When I arrived the
saddler showed me the whip lying exactly
where the dog had deposited it."

HENRY H. MAXWELL.

A RUSE" DOG.

{March 21, 1885.]

A STORY which came to my knowledge a few
months ago may be of interest in connection

1 72 DOG STORIES

with the Spectators series of anecdotes illus-
trating the intelligence of animals.

One summer afternoon a group of children
were playing at the end of a pier which
projects into Lake Ontario, near Kingston,
New York, U.S.A. The proverbial careless
child of the party made the proverbial back-
ward step off from the pier into the water.
None of his companions could save him, and
their cries had brought no one from the shore,
when, just as he was sinking for the third
time, a superb Newfoundland dog rushed
down the pier into the water and pulled the
boy out. Those of the children who did not
accompany the boy home took the dog to a
confectioner's on the shore, and fed him with
as great a variety of cakes and other sweets
as he would eat. So far the story is, of
course, only typical of scores of well-known
cases. The individuality of this case is left
for the sequel.

The next afternoon the same group of
children were playing at the same place,
when the canine hero of the day before came
trotting down to them with the most friendly

FROM THE "SPECTATOR? 173

wags and nods. There being no occasion
this time for supplying him with delicacies,
the children only stroked and patted him.
The dog, however, had not come out of pure
sociability. A child in the water and cakes
and candy stood to him in the close and
obvious relation of cause and effect, and if
this relation was not clear to the children he
resolved to impress it upon them. Watching
his chance, he crept up behind the child who
was standing nearest to the edge of the pier,
gave a sudden push, which sent him into the
water, then sprang in after him, and gravely
brought him to shore.

To those of us who have had a high
respect for the disinterestedness of dogs, this
story may give a melancholy proof that the
development of the intelligence, at the ex-
pense of the moral nature, is by no means
exclusively human.

CLARA FRENCH.

DOG DECEIVERS.

\_Feb. 9, 1895.]
YOUR fondness for dogs induces me to send

174 DOG STORIES

you the following anecdote, which shows
their power of acting a part for purposes of
their own. Some years ago a fox-terrier of
mine was condemned by a veterinary sur-
geon to consume a certain amount of flour
of sulphur every day. He was at all times
a fanciful and dainty feeder, and every con-
ceivable ingenuity on my part was exhausted
in the vain endeavour to disguise the daily
portion and to give it a more tempting ap-
pearance. Each new device was invariably
detected. However hungry he might be
he turned from the proffered morsel in dis-
gust, and it ended almost invariably in my
having to put it down his throat. One
morning, after keeping him for many hours
without food, and having neatly wrapped the
powder in a most appetising piece of raw
meat, I offered it him in the vain hope that
hunger might prevail over prejudice. But
no. With averted head and downcast look
he steadily and determinedly declined to par-
take of it. I encouraged him in vain. Deep
dejection on his part ; despair, but persistence,
on mine. All of a sudden his whole manner

FROM THE "SPECTATOR." 175

changed. He assumed a brisk and cheerful
demeanour, joyfully accepted the hitherto
rejected offering, and running merrily through
the open door, disappeared swiftly a few
yards off round the corner of the building.
Inside the room I ran as quickly to a
window, whence I could view his proceed-
ings, and there watched him while he de-
posited the hated morsel on the ground, dug
a hole in the flower-bed, and buried it. His
jaunty, triumphant air as he returned I shall
never forget.

F. E. WYNNE.

USEFUL DOGS.

GUARDIAN DOGS.

\_July 15, 1892.]

HAVING read for years your interesting
letters and articles on animals in the Spec-
tator, I feel sure you will like to have a
thoroughly authentic account of a dog in
this neighbourhood. I am allowed to give
the name of the owner, who is living at Lyme
Regis, where I was staying last week. The
two incidents happened within a few weeks
of each other.

Mrs. and Miss Coode were alone in their
house (except the servants) ; and one night
Miss Coode was awakened by hearing two
knocks at her door and a slight whine. It
was between three and four o'clock in the
morning. She rose and opened the door to
find the dog there, and at the same time
loticed and heard a stream of water running
Jown the stairs. She went up the staircase
179

V8o DOG STORIES

to its source, and aroused the servants to
attend to it. As soon as the dog saw that
the matter was being remedied, he quietly
went back to the mat in the hall and went to
sleep again. The dog is a large one, a
cross between a retriever and a grey-
hound — a very beautiful creature, re-
sembling a poacher's lurcher.

The second incident occurred only last
week, when Miss Coode was again aroused.
This time by a loud crash, as if a picture had
fallen. Almost immediately the dog bounded
upstairs, threw himself against the door,
which happened to .be ajar, burst into the
room, panting and eyes glistening,— this, at
least, Miss Coode saw as soon as she struck
a light, for it was between twelve and one
o'clock. She went out on to the staircase
and downstairs to look at the pictures in the
drawing-room. The dog would not follow.
The cook, coming down from her room,
called him a coward not to go with his
mistress, but Sheppard did not move. Miss
Coode found all safe below, and returned up-
stairs, and the dog went with her to the top

FROM THE "SPECTATOR" 181

floor, where the ceiling of a small room had
fallen in. He then retired to his mat, having
done his duty. He also showed his sagacity
in going to the daughter's room — the one
most capable of seeing to matters. Hoping,
as a dog-lover, that this may interest all such,
and help to prove that dogs think and reason
more than some human beings — also to show
that we often inferior beings have no right to
presuppose that the superior animals have no
souls.

K. CLARKE.

A TRUE WATCH-DOG.

[Aug. 5, 1893.]

THE "dog" letter in the Spectator of July
1 5th is wonderfully like my experience, some
years ago, with my little red Blenheim, Frisk.
She always slept in a basket, close to the
hall door. One night she dashed up the
stairs, loudly barking, ran first to my eldest
sister's room, then through a swing-door to
another sister's room, barking outside each
door, then upstairs again to my room at the
top of the house, where she remained barking

182 DOG STORIES

till I got up and opened it, when she ran in,
still barking, and waited till I was ready to
go down with her. She scampered on before
me, I following close, and when we both
reached the hall she dashed still barking to
the door, to show me whence her alarm had
arisen. It was the policeman turning the
handle of the door from the outside to see if
it was properly closed ! One night, a long
time after the first adventure, I was wakened
by a quiet scratch at the door of my room.
No barking this time ; but, tiresome as it
was to be disturbed on a cold night, I got up
and opened the door, and was conscious in
the darkness that Frisk was standing there.
''Come in, Frisk," said I. But no move-
ment ; Frisk stood waiting. " Come in,
Frisk," I repeated, somewhat sharply. No
movement, no bark! Then, being sure that
something must be wrong, I lighted a candle,
and there stood Frisk outside the door,
never offering to come in. She trotted
quietly down before me, not speaking a
word. When we were both through the
swing-door, and at the head of the stairs,

FROM THE "SPECTATOR." 183

I saw that the inner door to the hall was
open, and also that of the morning-room,
from which shone a bright light. My heart
went pit-a-pat for a moment ; then seeing
Frisk run quietly down the stairs, I followed
her, when she calmly jumped into her basket
again, and I, venturing into the morning-
room, found that my brother-in-law had left
the lamp burning by mistake — a proceeding
which Frisk plainly knew was wrong, and
had therefore come upstairs to inform me,
but had not thought it necessary to disturb
the rest of the household this time ! She
had come straight up to my room without
disturbing any one else, to tell me of the
irregularity of a light burning when every
one was in bed, and that being done, jumped
into bed again, conscious of having performed
her duty.

GEORGINA A. MARSH-CALDWELL.

{Aug. 12, 1893.]

I CAN give an instance as convincing as that
of Miss Marsh-Caldwell of the way in which
a true watch-dog will measure the extent of

1 84 DOG STORIES

his duties. I lived for many years opposite
a wood, in which the game at first was
preserved. I had a dog named Prin, who
had begun by being a gardener's dog, but
having caught the distemper and been un-
skilfully treated by his master he remained
nearly blind, and was left on my hands by
the man when he quitted my service. The
dog was a great coward, but good-tempered
and affectionate, and the partial loss of sight
seemed to have developed greatly the senses
both of hearing and smell, so that he was
recognised as a capital watch -dog. He was
promoted to the kitchen, and would have
been promoted to the drawing-room but for
the obstreperousness of his affection, which
seemed to know no bounds if he was ad-
mitted even into the hall. I slept at that
time in a room over the kitchen, fronting the
road. One night I was awakened by Prin
growling, and, after a time, giving a snappish
bark underneath me. I got out of bed and
throwing up the sash, listened at the window,
where, after a time, I heard slight noises,
which convinced me that some one or more

FROM THE " SPECTA TOR." 185

persons were hiding in the shrubbery between
the house and the road, whom I supposed to
be burglars. I called out, "Who's there?"
without, of course, eliciting any answer, and,
after a time, I heard the click of the further
gate (there being two, one opposite my
house, the other opposite its semi-detached
neighbour, and out of my si^ht), after which
all was quiet. But I had noticed that from
the moment of my getting out of bed Prin
had not uttered a sound. The same thing
happened seven or eight times, and always
in the same way, Prin growling or barking
till he heard me get out of bed, and then
holding his tongue, as feeling that he had
fulfilled his duty in warning his master, and
that all responsibility now devolved upon me.
The secret of the matter I discovered to be
that poachers, with no burglarious intentions
towards me, used the shrubbery as a hiding-
place before getting over the opposite paling
into the wood.

One other instance of Prin's sagacity I will
also mention. I had a black cat, with white
breast, named Toffy, between whom and

i86 DOG STORIES

Prin there was peace, though not affection.
There was also another black cat, with white
breast, that prowled about, an outlaw cat,
who made free with my chickens when he
could ! It was a bitter winter, and the snow
had lain already for days on the ground.
I was walking one Sunday morning in my
garden, Prin being out with me. He quitted
me to go under a laurel-hedge bounding a
shrubbery, and presently began barking
loudly. I went towards him, and saw a
white-breasted cat sitting stretched under
the laurels, with front paws doubled under
him, which I took to be Toffy asleep. I
scolded Prin for disturbing Toffy, and he
stopped barking, but remained on the spot
whilst I continued my walk. Presently —
say two or three minutes after — I heard him
barking still more loudly than before, and so
persistently that I returned to the spot.
Noticing that the cat had never moved
through all the noise, I crept up under the
bushes, and found that it was not Toffy
asleep, but the outlaw cat, dead — evidently
of cold. Thus my poor purblind watch-dog

FROM THE "SPECTATOR." 187

had — (i) barked to draw my attention to
what appeared to him an unusual phenome-
non ; (2), held his tongue in deference to my
(supposed) superior wisdom, when I told him
he was making a mistake ; (3), not being,
however, satisfied in his mind, remained to
investigate till he was convinced he had not
been mistaken ; (4), called my attention to
the facts still more instantly till I was satis-
fied of them for myself. Could homo sapiens
have done more ?

J. M. L.

{Aug. 12, 1893.]

I AM reminded by the anecdote related in the
Spectator Q{ July i5th, "A Canine Guardian,"
of the sagacity of a favourite Scotch terrier
which was displayed some years ago. I was
dressing one morning, and my bedroom-door
was ajar. Standing at my dressing-table,
I was surprised to see Fan come up to me,
frisking about, and looking eagerly into my
face, whether from pleasure or not I could
not tell. I spoke to and stroked her, but
she was in no way soothed, and she ran out

188 DOG STORIES

of the room evidently much excited. In she
came again, more earnestly trying to tell me
what she wanted, rushing up to me and again
to the door, plainly begging me to follow her,
which I did, into the next room, where break-
fast was laid. I at once saw what she had
easily felt was out of order — the kettle was
boiling over, and the water pouring from the
spout had drenched the hearth. Hence her
discomfort, and her effort to tell me of the
disaster. Having brought me on the scene,
she seemed perfectly content.

C. A. T.

[Aug. 12, 1893.]

NOT long ago I was passing a barn-yard in
this place, and stood to look over the gate at
a pretty half-grown lamb standing alone out-
side the barn. But the sight of me so
enraged a fierce, shaggy grey dog tied up
to his kennel between the lamb and me,
that he barked himself nearly into fits,
showing all his teeth, and straining so
furiously at his chain as to make me quite
nervous lest it should give way. In the

FROM THE " SPECTATOR? 189

meantime, I struck such terror into the
heart of the lamb that it fled across the
yard to place itself under the protection of
the dog, and stood close by his side, whilst
he barked and danced with fury. As I drew
a little nearer, the lamb backed right into the
kennel, and when, after I had made a circuit
in order to watch the further movements of
this strange pair of friends from behind a
tree, I saw their two faces cautiously looking
out together, cheek-by-jowl, whilst the dog's
anger was being reduced to subsiding splut-
ters of resentment. He was not a collie, but
a very large sort of poodle.

C S.

190 DOG STORIES

COLLIES AT WORK.

\_March 25, 1893.]

AT six o'clock this morning, I saw a
mountain-shepherd stand at a gate on the
hill-top. Seven sheep were on the outside
of the gate — six of the shepherd's flock,
the other a strayer. The man wanted his
own sheep in ; so, before opening the gate,
he quietly said: "'Rob,' catch the strayer."
In an instant "Rob" pinned the sheep,
holding him, strong and wild as he was,
as though he were in a vice ; and then, by
another word, " Gled " was told to bring the
others in through the gate now opened for
them. Although "Gled" brought his six
wild sheep right over "Rob " and his strayer,
the sheep was held securely till the gate
was closed, and the order given to "let it
gang."

WILLIAM FOTHERGILL.

FROM THE "SPECTATOR" 191

A COLLIE AT WORK.

{Aug. n, 1894.]

WE stood at the bottom of a deep valley
with the hills rising abruptly on either side,
when Robert Scott said : " Yonder is the
sheep I led away from Llangynider, all those
weary miles yesterday. I saw it as I came
over the hill -top down to the house this
morning. If you wish, "Kate" shall bring
it down to my feet here for you to see it."
" What ? — bring that single sheep ! How
will she know the one you want, and how
can she get it away from the flock by
itself? I will not believe that possible till
I see it done, at all events."

He spoke a low word or two to the
collie by his side, and away went " Kate "
right up over rock and bracken, till we
could see the flock far away upon the height
above give a very rapid turn, and in a few
minutes afterwards, down rushed a strong
mountain wether with the wily " Kate "
working to the right and left about thirty
yards behind it. " Come away, back 'ahint

192 DOG STORIES

me," cried Scott ; and " Kate," at once leaving
the sheep, appeared positively to fly far
out, and coming round behind us, stopped
the wether in his headlong course, bringing
him to a stand literally at the shepherd's
feet. "Robert," I said, "when (as you
intend) you sail next month for New
Zealand, you will not take ' Kate ' with
you, but leave her here for seven sove-
reigns." " Nae, nae, sir," was the reply,
" seventy sovereigns would nae buy her."

W. FOTHERGILL.

MISCELLANEO US.

A SUNDAY DOG.

{Feb. 17, 1877.]

A CORRESPONDENT favoured your readers last
week (see page 53) with an interesting anec-
dote of a dog's intelligence in reference to
the use of money. Permit me to relate an
instance of a dog's intelligence in reference to
the day of the week. Some three-and-twenty
years ago, in the infancy of the Canterbury
Province, New Zealand, there lived in the
same neighbourhood as myself two young
men, in the rough but independent mode
of life then prevalent in the colony, some-
what oblivious of old institutions. These
men possessed a dog each, affectionate
companions of their solitude. It was the
custom of this primitive establishment to
utilise the Sabbath by a ramble, in quest
of wild ducks and wild pigs, about the
swamps and creeks of the district. It was
195

1 96 DOG STORIES

observed that long before any preparations
were made for starting, the dogs always
seemed to be more or less excited. This
was remarkable enough, but not so much
as what followed. One of these men after
a while left his friend, and taking his dog
with him, went to live with a clergyman
about four miles off. Here ducks and pigs
had to be given up on Sundays for the
church-service. It was soon noticed that
this dog used to vanish betimes on Sundays,
and did not turn up again until late. Upon
inquiring, it was found that the dog had
visited its old abode, where on that day
of the week sport was not forbidden. The
owner tried the plan of chaining up the
animal on Saturday evenings, but it soon
became very cunning, and would get away
whenever it had the chance. On one oc-
casion it was temporarily fastened to a
fence-rail about mid-day on a Saturday.
By repeated jerks it loosened the rail from
the mortice-holes, and dragged it away.
Upon search being made, this resolute but
unfortunate dog was found drowned, still

FROM THE "SPECTATOR." 197

fast to the chain and rail, in a stream about
two miles away in the direction of its old
haunts. The gentleman who owned the
other dog is in England now, and went
over the details of the facts herein stated
with me quite recently.

ALFRED DURELL.

igS DOG STORIES

A COW'S JEALOUSY OF A DOG.

[April 30, 1892.]

As a subscriber to and constant reader of
the Spectator, I have derived much pleasure
from the anecdotes of animal instinct, saga-
city, and emotion, which from time to time
have appeared in your columns. Perhaps
you may like to publish the following
instance of jealousy in a cow ; it is, at any
rate, a story at first-hand, as I myself was
an actor in the affair.

A few years ago, I had a quiet milch-
cow, Rose, who certainly was fond of
Thomas, the man who milked her regularly,
and she also showed an aversion to dogs
even greater than is usual in her species.
One night, for what reason I now forget,
I had tied up a young collie dog in the
little cowshed where she was accustomed
to be milked. The following morning, I
had just begun to dress, when I heard the
puppy barking in the cowshed. "Oh!"
thought I, " I forgot to tell Thomas about
the puppy, and now the cow will get in

FROM THE " SPECTATOR." 199

first and gore it." The next minute I heard
a roar of unmistakable fear and anguish —
a human roar. I dashed down to the spot,
and at the same moment arrived my son,
pitchfork in hand. There lay Thomas on
his face in a dry gutter by the side of the
road to the cowhouse, and the cow butting
angrily at him. We drove off the cow, and
poor Thomas scuffled across the road,
slipped through a wire fence, stood up and
drew breath. " Why, Thomas," said I,
" what's the matter with Rose ? " " Well,
sir," said Thomas, " I heard the pup bark
and untied him, and I was just coming out
of the cowhouse, with the pup in my arms,
when 'Rose' came round the corner. As
soon as she see'd the pup in my arms, she
rushed at me without more ado, knocked
me down, and would have killed me if you
hadn't come up." Thomas had indeed had
a narrow escape; his trousers were ripped
up from end to end, and red marks all along
his legs showed where Rose's horns had
grazed along them. " Well," said I, " you'd
better not milk her this morning, since she'

200 DOG STORIES

in such a fury." "Oh! I'll milk her right
enough, sir, by and by ; just give her a little
time to settle down like. It's only jealousy
of that 'ere pup, sir. She couldn't abide
seeing me a-fondling of it." "Well, as you
like," said I ; only take care, and mind what
you're about." "All right, sir!"

In about twenty minutes, Thomas called
me down to see the milk. The cow had
stood quiet enough to be milked. But the
milk was deeply tinged with blood, and in
half an hour a copious red precipitate had
settled to the bottom of the pail. Till then
I had doubted the jealousy theory. After
that I believed.

C. HUNTER BROWN.

FROM THE "SPECTATOR." 201

AN AUSTRALIAN DOG-STORY.

[May n, 1895.]

SEEING the great interest which many of
your readers take in the study of canine
character and intelligence, I think perhaps
the following incident is worth recording.
Whilst walking with a lady friend along
Studley Park Road, Kew (a residential
suburb of Melbourne), on a very quiet
afternoon some time ago, we were surprised
by a large St. Bernard dog, which came
up to us and deliberately pawed my leg
several times. Our perplexity at his extra-
ordinary behaviour was perhaps not unmixed
with a little misgiving, for he was an animal
of formidable size and strength ; but as he
gave evident signs of satisfaction at our
noticing him, and proceeded to trot on in
front — at intervals looking round to make
sure we were following — we became in-
terested. When we had followed him about
forty yards, he stopped before a door in
a high garden wall, and, looking round
anxiously to see that we were noticing,

202 DOG STORIES

reached up his paw in the direction of the
latch. On stretching forth my hand to
unfasten the door, his extreme pleasure was
exhibited in a most unmistakable manner ;
but when he saw me try in vain to open
it, he became quiet, and looked at me with
an expression so manifestly anxious that
I could no more have left the poor animal
thus than I could have left a helpless little
child in a similar position. With eager
attention and expectancy he listened while
I knocked, and when at last some one was
heard coming down the garden path, he
bounded about with every sign of unlimited
joy.

Now here was one of the so-called
"brutes," which, failing to get in at a
certain door, cast about for a way out of
the difficulty, and seeing us some distance
down the road (we were the only persons
in sight at the time), he had come to us,
attracted our attention, taken us to the door,
and told us he wanted it opened. We both
agreed that the animal had all through
shown a play of emotion and intelligence

FROM THE " SPECTA TOR." 203

comparable to that of a human being ; and,
indeed, we felt so much akin to the noble
creature that we have both, since then,
been very loath to class dogs as "inferior
animals."

GEORGE EASTGATE.

204 DOG STORIES

TWO ANECDOTES OF DOGS.

[Feb. 2, 1895.]

HAVING derived much pleasure from reading
the frequent natural history notes which
from time to time appear in the Spectator, I
venture to send you two instances of what
seems to me the working of the canine
mind under quite different circumstances.
The first refers to an incident which hap-
pened a great many years ago. It was this.
One day, when a lad, I was walking with my
father accompanied by a strong, smooth-
haired retriever called Turk. We were
joined by the bailiff of the farm, and in the
course of our walk Turk suddenly discovered
the presence of a rabbit concealed in what in
Scotland is called a " dry-stane dyke." After
a little trouble in removing some stones, poor
bunny was caught and slaughtered, being
handed to the bailiff, who put it in his coat
pocket. Shortly afterwards we separated,
the bailiff going to his home in one direc-
tion, and we to ours in an opposite one.
Before we reached home we noticed that

FROM THE "SPECTATOR." 205

Turk was no longer with us, at which we
were rather surprised, as he was a very
faithful follower. Some time after we got
home, perhaps an hour, I chanced to see a
strange object on the public road which
puzzled me as to what it was. It raised a
cloud of dust as it came along, which partly
obscured the vision. What was my surprise
when I found it was Turk dragging a man's
shooting-jacket, which proved to be the
bailiff's, with the rabbit still in the pocket.
We afterwards learnt that the dog, to the
surprise of the bailiff, quietly followed him
home, and lay down near him. Presently
the man took off his coat, and laid it on a
chair. Instantly Turk pounced upon it, and
dashed to the door with it in his mouth.
He was pursued, but in vain, and succeeded
in dragging the coat from the one house to
the other, a distance of one mile and
three-fourths. It was evident the dog had a
strong sense of the rights of property. He
believed the rabbit belonged to his master,
so he set himself to recover what he thought
stolen goods.

206 DOG STORIES

The other anecdote refers to quite a recent
date, and the only interest it has, is that it
shows how perfectly a dog can exhibit facial
expression, and also read at a glance the
slightest indications of feeling in the human
face. I had a well-broken Irish setter, which
was perfectly free of hare or rabbit as to
chasing, but he was a sad rascal for all that.
I also had at the time a rough Scotch terrier,
and the two dogs were great chums. The
moment they got the chance they were off
together on a rabbit-hunt. Like idiots, they
would spend hours in vainly trying to dig
rabbits out of their burrows. One day as I
was returning home I met the pair in the
avenue. They were the very picture of
happiness. At first they did not see me,
and came joyously on at a trot. The instant
they observed me they came to a full stop,
some forty yards off. The setter gently
wagged his tail, and looked at me with an
expression of anxious inquiry. Taking heart,
he slowly advanced to within about thirty
yards, and then came the varying play of
feature which so interested me. He was in

FROM THE "SPECTATOR? 207

great doubt as to whether I had guessed
what tricks he had been up to; but as I
made no sign, he was gradually looking
more comfortable and gaining confidence.
Suddenly I noticed a patch of mud above
his nose, and I must have unconsciously
shown him I had made a discovery of some
kind, for that instant he turned tail and
bolted home at the utmost speed of which
he was capable. Without uttering a single
word, or making a single gesture, the dog
and man understood each other perfectly.
It was the language of faces.

R. SCOT SKIRVING.

208 DOG STORIES

A DOG OBEYING A SUMMONS

\_Jan. 1 8, 1890.]

THE enclosed may interest you. I received
it this morning. I have no doubt Dr.
Barford, of Wokingham, would verify it,
but I have not the pleasure of his acquaint-
ance. The following is the story : —

" Dr. Barford's dog at Wokingham was
put into a muzzle ; he objected to it, took it
off, and hid it somewhere, no one knows
where. Policeman saw him ; summoned Dr.
B. ; case was to come off one Saturday.
The children told dog how wicked he'd
been : Dr. B. would have to appear at the
Court, and he too, as it was his doing ; he'd
lost the muzzle. Case was postponed (I
think policeman witness had influenza). Dr.
B. was told of postponement by letter ;
forgot to tell children or dog. At Saturday's
Bench, Magistrates much astonished by the
dog appearing in Court and sitting solemnly
opposite them."

ALYS M. WOOD.

FROM THE " SPECTA TOR." 209

A PUG'S INTELLIGENCE.

\_Feb. i, 1890.]

SEVERAL newspaper cuttings have been sent
to me with the story of my dog which
appeared in the Spectator of January i8th,
and one or two of them suggest a doubt as
to the veracity of the story. I write, there-
fore, to tell you that it is literally true, only
that the policeman was away for his holiday
instead of having influenza, and the case
came off on Tuesday instead of Saturday.
My dog is a pug, a very choice specimen
of his kind, and was given to me by the late
Dr. Wakley, editor of the Lancet, who was
a great connoisseur in dogs. His intelligence
is really marvellous, and he has done many
things as extraordinary as the one related by
Miss Wood.

He is devotedly attached to my baby, and
always accompanies me in my morning visit
to the nursery. On one occasion the child
(who is just as fond of him as he is of her)
was very ill, and for three weeks was un-
conscious. As soon as this was the case,
14

210 DOG STORIES

the dog ceased to go near the nursery, as if
by instinct he knew he would not be noticed.
Mr. Walters from Reading was attending the
baby, and the dog soon got to know the
time he paid his visits. He would watch
him upstairs, and when he came down listen
most attentively to his report. At length
the child was pronounced out of danger.
The very next morning, up went master
Sam, made his way straight to the child's
cot, and stood on his hind legs to be
caressed. Although she had taken no notice
of any one for some time, she seemed to
know the dog, and tried to move her hand
towards him to be licked. He quite under-
stood the action, licked the little hand
lovingly, and then trotted contentedly away.
After this he went up to see her regularly,
as he had been accustomed to do. He is
quite a character in the town, and nearly
every one knows Sammy Weller.

Before I had this dog, I always thought I
understood the difference between reason and
instinct, but his intelligence has quite puzzled
me.

MARY H, BARFORD.

FROM THE " SPECTATOR." 211

ARE DOGS "COLOUR-BLIND"?

\Jan. 12, 1884.]

YOUR correspondent, "W. H. O'Shea," has
found several dogs " colour-blind," If black
is a colour, I can give several instances in
which a black retriever dog of mine was
certainly not "colour-blind." He had the
greatest antipathy to sweeps and coalheavers,
and would fly at them if not fastened up or
carefully watched. He would even bark at
a passing hearse ! In all other respects, he
was the best- tempered dog in the world, and
I can only imagine that when very young he
must have been ill-used by either a sweep or
a coalheaver.

C. R. T.

212 DOG STORIES

LUCKY AND UNLUCKY.

[April 2%, 1877.]

As letters telling of dogs and their doings
occasionally appear in the Spectator, perhaps
the following rather pathetic anecdote of a
dog I know well may also find a place there.
Two or three weeks ago, Lucky — so called
from having, when an outcast, found its
present happy home — perhaps by way of
showing its gratitude to its benefactors,
presented them with five small Luckys, or
rather, with one exception, Unluckys, as the
melancholy process always resorted to with
these too-blooming families had to be carried
out in this instance, and the five were re-
duced to one. Poor Lucky was inconsolable,
looking everywhere for them, and looking,
too, with such appealing eyes into the faces
of her friends, and asking them so plainly
where they were. Near her kennel was an
inclosed piece of ground for pigeons, and as
it was discovered that rats were carrying off
the young pigeons, and as Lucky had carried
off one or two rats, it was decided one night

FROM THE " SPEC T A TOR." 2 1 3

to leave the door of the pigeons' house open,
that Lucky might have the run of it ; and
the next morning, side by side with the
puppy, was found a baby pigeon, looking
quite bright and at home, but hungry, and
poor Lucky, proud of the addition it had
made to its family, was looking more con-
tented than it had done since the loss of its
puppies. The pigeon must have fallen from
its nest, some distance from the ground, and
Lucky, while on the look-out for rats, must
have found it, and carefully carried it to her
kennel, with the vague feeling, perhaps, that
it was one of her own lost little ones "de-
veloping" a little curiously. Unfortunately
che arrangement could not be a permanent
one, and the famished little pigeon was put
back into its own nest, to be found again the
next morning in Lucky's bed, but this time
dead. The old birds seem to have deserted
it, and it had died of starvation. If Lucky
could give this account herself, it might be
much more interesting, for it was thought
not at all improbable that she had actually
rescued from a rat the bird she was so

2i4 DOG STORIES

anxious to adopt, as a small wound was
found upon it such as a rat might have
made, and as a young pigeon had been
taken the night before from the same nest ;
but this is only conjecture, and Lucky only
could tell us the facts ; how often it would
be interesting, if our humble friends could
tell us their adventures ! A friend who is
staying with me tells me that a few months
ago her dog was lost for a week, and at the
end of that time it came back one night in
a scarlet ruff and spangles, and looking
altogether dreadfully dissipated. Evidently
it had been the " performing dog " in some
show, " Punch and Judy " perhaps ; being
naturally a clever dog, it would quickly have
learnt the part of " Toby" in that delightful
and time-honoured exhibition. If it could
only have written also an article entitled " A
Week of My Life," with what pleasure the
Spectator would have published it !

S.

PROM THE " SPECTA TOR." 2 i 5

THE COURAGE OF ANIMALS.

[Feb. n,

IN the Spectator of December 3ist, which,
although a regular subscriber to your valuable
paper, I only happened to see to-day, owing
to absence from home, I notice a reference
in the article entitled " The Courage of
Animals," to the fact that the wild dogs of
India attack and destroy tigers. I have no
personal knowledge of the matter, but I have
been told by an Indian officer that the modus
operandi of the "red dogs " is as follows : —
Having found their tiger they proceed, not
to attack him at once, as might be inferred
from your article, but to starve him until
they have materially reduced his strength.
Night and day they form a cordon round
the unfortunate beast, and allow him no
chance of obtaining food or rest ; every time
the tiger essays to break the circle, this is
widened as the pack flies before him, only
to be relentlessly narrowed again when the
quarry is exhausted. After a certain period of
this treatment the tiger falls a comparatively

2i6 1)0 G STORIES

easy prey to his active and persevering
enemies. This theory of their plan of attack,
while it may detract somewhat from the wild
dogs' reputation for courage, must add con-
siderably to our estimate of their intelligence.
EDWARD PAUL, Jun.

FROM THE "SPECTATOR* 215

SOME FACTS OF MATERNAL IN-
STINCT IN ANIMALS.

{Oct. i, 1892.]

I LATELY met some friends who had with
them a little dog, called Vic, who had adopted
the family of a cat in the house, and, while
in possession, would not let the mother come
near her kittens. The kittens were kept in
a very tall basket, and Vic would take them
in her mouth, and jump out with them one
by one, and then carry them into the garden
and watch over them, carrying them back in
the same way after a time ; at other times,
lying contentedly with them in the basket.
Of course Vic had to be forcibly removed
when the adopted family required their
mother's attention for their sustenance. I
also have met a friend who saw a hen-hawk,
who was in a cage, mothering a young
starling. Three young, unfledged starlings
were given the hawk to eat. She ate two,
and then broodled the other, and took the
utmost care of it. Unhappily, the young
starling died ; and from that moment the

2i8 DOG STORIES

hawk would touch no food, but died herself
in a few days.

The same friend was on a mountain one
day, when a sheep came up to him, and
unmistakably begged him to follow her
going just in front, and continually looking
round to see if he was following. The
sheep led him at last to some rocks, where
he found a lamb fast wedged in between two
pieces of rock. He was able to liberate the
lamb, to the evident joy of the mother.

I myself once saw a cat "broodling" and
taking care of a very small chicken, which,
being hatched first of a brood, had been
brought into a cottage and placed in a basket
near the fire. It managed to get out of the
basket, and hopped up to the cat, who
immediately adopted it.

WM. WALSHAM WAKEFIELD.

FROM THE " SPECTATORS 219

HAVE ANIMALS A FOREKNOW-
LEDGE OF DEATH?

, 1892.]

IN a recent Spectator there is a quotation
from Pierre Loti to the effect that " animals
not only fear death, but fear it the more
because they are aware that they have no
future." Pierre Loti is a brilliant novelist,
but I am not aware that he is a scientific
naturalist, and I trust his idea is a mere
chimera. Loti would take from the brutes
the one privilege for which men may envy
them, and endows them with a knowledge of
the aftertime that we have only by revelation.
However, two common-sense naturalists have
published their belief that the lower animals
have a foreknowledge of death, and one of
them goes so far as to give an account of an
old horse committing suicide. He says the
animal frequently suffered from some internal
disease, and that it deliberately walked into
a pond, and, putting its nostrils under water,
stood thus till it dropped dead from suffoca-
tion. The incident, I think, is easily explained.

220 DOG STORIES

Many horses drink in the manner described,
and in old horses heart-disease is not un-
common. I imagine the stoppage of respira-
tion caused a sudden and natural death from
heart-disease.

I should like to ask naturalists who think
animals know that they must die, where they
draw the line. They must stop somewhere
between a dog and a dormouse. Poets have
made far more frequent allusion to the
subject than naturalists, and they may be
quoted on both sides. Philip James Bailey,
in illustration of his contention that hope is
universal, says : " and the poor hack that
sinks down on the flints, upon whose eye
the dust is settling, he hopes to die." But
we have on the other hand Shelley's Skylark,
with its " ignorance of pain," because it
differs from men who "look before and
after." Wordsworth's little girl of eight
knew less than her dog, if she had one, for,
says the poet, " what could she know of
death ? " I admit that when the carnivora
have crushed their prey to death they cease
to mangle them ; but I fancy that is only

FROM THE "SPECTATOR." 221

because there is no more resistance ; and
a bull will trample on a hat and leave it
when it becomes a shapeless mass. The
nearest thing I ever saw to an apparent
foreknowledge of death, was in the case of
that least intelligent of dogs, a greyhound.
I had to shoot it to prevent useless suffering
from disease. It followed me willingly, but
when I led it to a pit prepared as its grave it
instantly rushed off at its best speed. I
suggest that it saw instinctively something
unpleasant was about to happen, but it does
not follow that death was present to its mind.
Domestic poultry will furiously attack one of
their number that struggles on the ground
in its death-agony. They do not dream
of death ; they think its contortions are a
challenge to combat.

R. SCOTT SKIRVINC;.

222 DOG STORIES

OUR FOUR-FOOTED FRIENDS, BIG
AND LITTLE.

[Nov. 8, 1873.]

MAY I be permitted to question, in the most
friendly way, the assumption of " Lucy
Field," in your last issue, that the lives of
small dogs are in constant jeopardy from " a
race of giant dogs, and exceptionally large
dogs," at Muswell Hill ? If it be so, then,
surely the "giant dogs" of that region are
exceptions. My experience goes to confirm
the truth taught by Sir Edwin Landseer's
" Dignity and Impudence," a fine print of
which adorns my portfolio. I had a broken-
haired friend, weight about eight pounds,
learned in two languages, canine and English,
who rejoiced in the name of Teens, given
him by babes with whom he condescended
to play, because he was a " tiny, teeny dog."
I must confess that my late friend — alas !
that I should say late — who was chivalrically
brave in killing rats and carrying on war with
cats, was a very bully, a kind of Ancient
Pistol towards big dogs. To see him meet

FROM THE "SPECTATOR." 223

a Newfoundland or large retriever was as
good as a play. Teens, with his tail curled
like the spring of an ancient watch, his
broken-haired back stiffened with indignation,
would stand and give the pass-word all dogs
seem to know, and be overhauled and
examined as he walked round the giant like
an English gunboat by a Spanish fifth-rate ;
but when once the enemy turned his back,
Teens exploded like a cracker, running
under the big dog's nose, and often springing
at his lip. His gigantic, but generous foe
(or friend) always fled, or walked away,
followed by a torrent of abusive barks,
which, from their peculiar intonation, I took
for dog-slang, and Teens returning with an
impudent smile on his countenance, wiped
his feet on the pavement as a sign of
triumph. I have seen him do this a hundred
times, and never saw a big dog attempt to
punish his impudence. Jeems, a black-and-
tan of smaller weight, who seemed to walk
upon springs, and who on work-a-days was
called Jim, and James on Sundays, which
day he perfectly well knew, was more like

224 DOG STORIES

Parolles. He bullied big dogs at a distance,
and seldom stood up to them like the truculent
Teens, and, although he ran away, was
seldom pursued and never hurt, while the
Claimant (he was for his size unwieldly in
fatness as a pup), who (or which) still lives
with me, is now bullying a shambling
retriever pup, full-grown, but, like Cousin
Feenix, uncertain as to his gait, who good-
naturedly submits to it. Here, perhaps,
there is danger ; for very big pups will
pursue any little thing that runs away, and
one of their large paws, which they put
down as if they wore heavily clumped boots,
might certainly crush the life — a very noisy,
fussy, busy life it is — out of my small and im-
pertinent, pretentious Tichborne. This dog,
by the way, brings down his mistress her
boots, as a hint for her to take a walk, and
blows like a trumpet or young walrus under
the door to be let in, having been corrected
for scratching the panel. I end as I began,
by assuring you that my experience, no less
than that of my friends, lies in the direction
of extreme generosity exhibited by large

FROM THE "SPECTATOR." 225

dogs towards small ones ; I would not deny
that a large dog may now and then punish
an impudent and aggressive toy-terrier, but,
as a rule, we can only wonder at the
providential wisdom which makes them so
generous and forbearing ; having a giant's
strength, they seldom indeed use it like a
giant.

HAIN FRISWELL.

226 DOG STORIES

DOG CONSCIOUSNESS.

[Nov. 2, 1872.]

OUR terrier Crib took upon himself yester-
day to add his testimony to your view of
" dog-consciousness," as expressed in the
Spectator of the iQth ult. Crib verges on
perfection, save that he is frantically jealous
of any other animal who may receive atten-
tion, but yesterday he rebelled against the
injustice of being compelled to eat all his
dinner, and refused to swallow one special
piece of bread ; but finding that his refusal
was not accepted, apparently made a virtue
of necessity, and gulped down the bread with
a look and wag of the tail, giving me to
understand that I ought to be satisfied,
which I was not, as I observed a slight
swelling in one cheek. So concealing my
suspicion I furtively watched. Crib also
occasionally eyed me, lying down and then
walking round the room, and sniffing in the
corners, as he is wont to do. In a few
minutes, and when I appeared safely
absorbed in my paper, he made his way

FROM THE "SPECTATOR." 227

slowly to where pussy was lapping her saucer
of milk ; passing her without stopping, he
cleverly discharged the hated mouthful into
pussy's milk, and continuing his walk to the
rug, laid himself down and slept the sleep of
the just.

C. S.

228 DOG STORIES

A DOG STORY.

\yune i, 1895.]

PERHAPS you will allow me to add another
to your interesting list of dog- stories. In a
house where I once boarded there was a
large and remarkably sagacious St. Bernard
mastiff, who used to come into my sitting-
room and give me his company at dinner,
sitting on the floor beside my chair, with his
head on a level with the plates. His master,
however, fearing that he was being over-fed,
gave strict injunctions that this practice
should no longer be permitted. On the first
day of the prohibition the dog lay and sulked
in the kitchen ; but on the second day, when
the landlady brought in the dishes, he stole
in noiselessly close behind her, and while for
the moment she bent over the table, he
slipped promptly beneath it, and waited.
No sooner had she retired than he emerged
from his hiding-place, sat down in his usual
position, and winked in my face with a look
which seemed to say, ''Haven't I done her!"
In due course, the good woman came to

FROM THE " SPECTA TOR." 229

change the plates, and as soon as he heard
her step, he slunk once more under the
table ; but in an instant, ere she had time to
open the door, he came out again, as if he
had suddenly taken another thought, and
threw himself down on the rug before the
fire — to all appearance fast asleep. " Ah,
Keeper ; you there, you rascal ! " exclaimed
his mistress, in indignant surprise, as she
caught sight of him. The dog opened his
eyes, half raised his body, stretched himself
out lazily at full length, gave a great yawn
as if awakened from a good long sleep, and
then, with a wag of his tail, went forward
and tried to lick her hand. It was a capital
piece of acting, and the air of perfect guile-
lessness was infinitely amusing.

GEO. Me HARDY.

23o DOG STORIES

WOW: A STORY OF A CAT'S PAW.

[March 23, 1872.]

I THINK you will be interested in the follow-
ing anecdote of a distinguished foreigner.
One of the happiest results of that abandon-
ment of their ancient exclusiveness which
has rendered us familiar with the Japanese,
has been the arrival on these shores of a
very pretty fluffy little dog, a born subject of
the Mikado, who hails or rather barks from
Nagasaki, and who is happily domiciled with
a friend of mine, of a sufficiently elevated
mind to esteem at its proper value the privi-
lege of being the master of a clever and
refined dog. The child of the sun and
the earthquake has been named Wow, an
ingenious combination of the familiar utter-
ance of his kind with the full-mouthed
terminals of the language of the merely
human inhabitants of his country. My own
impression is that Wow smacks rather of the
melodious monosyllabic tongue of the Flowery
Land than of that of the Dragon country ;
but this is a detail, and, as a young naval

FROM THE " SPECTA TOR.* 231

officer newly come from Nipon remarked to
me lately, with much fervour, " Thank God !
a fellow isn't obliged to learn their lingo."
Wow has made himself at home and happy
in his Northern residence with all the
courtesy and suavity of a true Japanese, and
has attached himself to his master with
apparent resignation to the absence of pigtail
and petticoat, articles of attire replaced in
this case by the wig and gown of a Q.C.
About this attachment there is, however,
none of the exclusiveness which characterises
the insular dog. Wow is a politician, or at
least a diplomatist, and he desires to main-
tain friendly relations, with profitable results
to himself, with everybody. He succeeds in
doing so to an extraordinary extent, of which
fact his master lately discovered evidence.
Very strict orders, including the absolute
prohibition of bones, had been issued with
regard to Wow's diet The ideas of a
country in which little dogs eat, but are not
eaten, require liberality in his opinion, and
Wow made up his mind he would have his
bones without incurring the penalties of dis-

±32 DOG STORIES

obedience, which his master, in the interests
of the delicate foreigner, was determined to
inflict. A commodious and elegant residence
was fitted up in the study for Wow, and he
was permitted free access to the upper floors
of the house, but the line was drawn at the
kitchen staircase. That way lay bones and
ruin, and its easy descent was interdicted by
stern command, which Wow understood as
clearly as did its utterer, though he at first
affected a simple and unconscious misappre-
hension. Then Wow was reproved and
gently chastised, an administration of justice
performed with the utmost reluctance by
his master, but with the happiest results.
Nothing could be more admirable than
Wow's submission, more perfect than his
obedience. He never looked towards the
kitchen stairs, and would attend at the family
meals without following the retiring dishes
with a wistful gaze, or betraying a longing
for the forbidden bones by so much as a sniff.
Attached to the lower department of the
household is a humble cat, a faithful creature
in her way, but not cultivated by my friend

FROM THE "SPECTATOR." 233

as I could wish. With this meek and useful
animal Wow contracted a friendship regarded
by his master as a proof of his amiability and
condescension. (In my capacity of narrator
I am compelled to use the latter somewhat
injurious term — as a private individual with
an undying recollection, I repudiate it). But
the single-minded Q.C. had something to
learn of the four-footed exile from the Far
East concerning this intimacy. Coming into
his study one day at an unusual hour, he saw
the cat — I do not know her name, I am
afraid she has not one — stealthily depositing
a bone behind a curtain. Presently she went
downstairs, and returned with a second bone,
which she conveyed to the same place of
concealment, whence proceeded a gentle
rustling and whisking, suggestive of the
presence of Wow, whose house, or pagoda,
was empty. Then arose the Q.C., and
cautiously peeped behind the curtain, where
he beheld Wow and his humble friend
amicably discussing their respective bones,
Wow's being the bigger and the meatier of
the two.

234 DOG STORIES

Thus did the Japanese exile illustrate the
cosmopolitan story of the catspaw (with the
improvement of making it pleasant for the
cat), and accomplish the proverbially desir-
able feat of minding both his meat and his
manners. If we could be secured against
their imitation, it would be pleasant to ask
our own domestic pets the problems :

" What do you think of that, my cat ? "
"What do you think of that, my dog?"

A CONSTANT READER AND DISCIPLE.

FROM THE " SPECTA TOR." 235

THE BIOGRAPHY OF SPRIG.

[Jan. 20, 1872.]

I DARE not hope to equal the eloquent and
most touching biography of Nero, with
whom I had the honour of a slight acquaint-
ance. But I was the possessor of an animal
who, in his way as a dog, not a cat, for
originality of character, reasoning power,
talent, and devoted affection I have never
seen equalled in his species, and you and
your readers may possibly be interested by
a sketch of his biography.

Where Sprig was born I do not know, nor
had I any acquaintance with his parents.
One morning several years ago I chanced to
go down stairs early, and found the milk-boy
at the hall door, delivering his daily supply
to the cook. In the courtyard before my
house was a bright-looking rough terrier of
small size, frisking about very cheerfully,
trying to catch the small stump of a tail
which some cruel despoiler had left him.
As he was engaged in this pastime, a large
brown retriever entered the ^ate, to look on,

236 DOG STORIES

I suppose, for he had an amused expression
of face, and was wagging his tail amicably.
Sprig, however, though but a mite in com-
parison, decidedly resented the intrusion, and
flew at the retriever's throat, from which he
had to be choked off by his owner, who
brought him back in his arms. The
little fellow was in the highest state of
excitement and anger, his bright, intelligent
eyes flashing, and his hair bristling. He
was indeed most amusingly fierce, but was
soon calmed when he was shown, and told,
that his enemy had fled, whereupon the
following colloquy ensued between myself
and his owner. Myself: "And where did
you get that dog, boy ? You did not steal
him, I hope ? " Boy, in a rich Dublin
brogue : " Ah, now ! would I stale anythin',
yer honner, an' me the poor milk-boy ? Is
it stale him ? Bedad, it's my father's cuzin
that's at the Curragh ! Sure he's a corporal,
so he is. He brought him, and he sez,
' Yez'll get me a pound for him, and no less.'
So it's a pound I want for him, sur, and
nothin' less. An' sure John Lambert knows

FROM THE "SPECTATOR." 237

me well — so he does ! " When John, my
servant, was sent for, he gave a good account
of the lad, and as he entirely approved of
Sprig, I gave the sovereign, showing it to
the dog, whose wondering eyes were glanc-
ing from one to the other. Then I said to
the boy, " Put him into my arms, and tell
him he belongs to me ; " and he did so.
The little fellow looked curiously and wist-
fully at the lad, who, to do him justice, had
tears in his eyes, and then nestled into my
breast, licking my hands and face. When
my daughter came down stairs, I took up
Sprig and placed him in my youngest
daughter's arms, a process he appeared to
comprehend perfectly, and told him she was
his mistress ; nor to the day of his death did
he ever falter in his devoted allegiance to
her. He was very fond of me and of us all,
but his deepest love was for his mistress, and
on many occasions was most affecting to see.
She was often delicate, and once had a sharp
attack of typhus fever. In this illness Sprig
never left her. He would lie at the foot of
her bed watching her, and would sometimes

238 DOG STORIES

creep gently up to her, put his paws round
her neck, and lick her hands softly, while the
pleading of his large eyes looking from his
mistress, in her unconscious delirium, to her
sister and me, was touching in the extreme.
Indeed, there were then many sad illnesses,
but Sprig was always the same. As my
child grew stronger and better her little
friend would amuse her by the hour together;
sit up, beg, preach, play with his ball, and
try in humble doggie fashion to beguile her
of her pain. But I am anticipating.

Sprig was, I believe, what is called a
Dandie Dinmont, and as he grew up he
became, for his class, a very handsome, as he
was a sturdy, little fellow, with great strength
for his size. He was a reddish-brown colour,
more dark-red than brown, like a squirrel,
with white below, and a delightfully fuzzy
head, and a breast of long soft white hair.
His eyes were that peculiar bright liquid
"dog" brown which is capable of so much
expression, and he grew to have a long
moustache and beard. Even the most un-
observant of dogs admired him, for he

FROM THE "SPECTATOR? 239

resembled no terrier I have ever seen. I
think he would have won the prize of his
class at the Dublin Dog Show, had it not
been for a terrible accident he met with in
being wounded by a large foxhound in a
neighbouring orchard. His neck was then
torn open, and he was rescued by John only
in time to prevent his being killed. As it
was, it was weeks before he could walk —
and how patient he was all the time ! and as
the wound healed it left a thickening of his
skin which had an awkward look. Sprig
was, however, " highly commended." In
his youth he was perhaps rather short in his
temper, and always resented in the most
distinct manner any liberty that was taken
with him. To tread upon his foot was
perilous, but he was at once pacified if an
apology was made that it was accidental ; but
to pull his tail wilfully was an insult which
he resented bitterly, and for which much
atonement was necessary, or he would go
under the sofa and cry in his peculiar manner
when offended.

As he grew up, Sprig developed various

240 DOG STORIES

talents which were highly cultivated. His
greatest pleasure, perhaps, was in an india
rubber ball, with which his gambols were
indescribably pretty and constant. It was a
great distress when he lost or mislaid his
ball, and he was miserable till he found it,
or another was brought him. It was a cruel
thing to say, when one of us went to town,
"Sprig, I will bring you a new ball," and as
sometimes happened, to forget to do so. On
return he would sniff about the person who
had gone, poke his nose into his or her
pockets, and if disappointed could hardly be
soothed, but would go away and have his
quiet cry to himself. Sometimes a kind
friend who knew him might bring him a new
ball ; but it very much depended on who
presented it whether it was accepted or not,
and I am afraid that too frequently for his
good manners he turned it over contemp-
tuously with his nose and left it for the old
one, which, gnawed, bitten, and broken, was
stiil the favourite. I used sometimes to
make a ball squeak by pressing the hole
against my hand, and I believe he thought

FROM THE " SPECTATOR? 241

it was in pain, for he would whine piteously,
and would not let me rest till he had it again
in his possession. It was most amusing to
see him when a parcel of new balls arrived,
he having been told beforehand that one was
coming. He would find out directly who
had it, and become impatient and cross
indeed if he did not get it directly. When
the parcel was given him, his great delight
was to open it himself and select one. A red
ball was usually preferred, but not always.
All were subjected to the most varied trials
— gnawed, smelt, and rolled, till the one
which pleased his fancy was finally selected ;
of the rest he would take no notice what-
ever.

Sprig was thoroughly a gentleman, and on
most occasions he was most attentive to lady
visitors. He never noticed gentlemen. On
one occasion, when my daughters were out,
a dear friend called (Nero's mistress). She
told us afterwards that Sprig had been a
most attentive beau. He met her at the hall
door, welcomed her in his odd fashion,
trotted before her into the drawing-room,
16

242 DOG STORIES

looking behind him to see if she followed.
He then jumped upon the ottoman, inviting
her to sit down ; when she was seated he
brought his ball and went through all his
tricks with it, sat up on his hind legs, begged
with his paws, preached to her in his own
queer way, and kept her amused till, no
longer able to remain, she bid him good
morning and left, evidently to his disgust.
" Could he have spoken," she said after-
wards, " he would have told me to wait, for
his mistresses would soon be back ; the look
was in his face, but the words were wanting."
His attention to visitors was never omitted.
When we had a ball or evening party, he
would await, with John Lambert, the several
arrivals at the hall door, welcome each new
party, and usher them in a solemn manner
into the drawing-room or tea-room, returning
for a new set to his former place. Nor did
he want for an occasional cake or biscuit at
the tea-table ; " he was so amiable," said the
young ladies, " he could not be resisted."

As an instance of how perfectly he under-
stood what was said to him, I may relate

FROM THE "SPECTATOR." 243

that one hot day I had walked out from
town, and being thirsty went into the dining-
room for a drink of water. I saw Sprig's
ball under the table, and when I went into
the garden where my girls were sitting they
said, " Sprig has lost his ball, and is perfectly
miserable." After I had sent him to look
about for it, I said, "Now, Sprig, I know
where it is ; I saw it in the dining-room
under the table ; go fetch it." He looked
brightly at me, and I repeated what I had
said. He trotted off, and while we were
wondering whether he had understood me,
he returned with it in his mouth quite
delighted. I have mentioned his preaching,
which may sound rather irreverent, but it
was an accomplishment entirely of his own
invention. When seated in a chair after
dinner, and requested to preach, he would
sit up, place his forepaws gravely on the
table, and then lifting up one paw as high
as his head, and then the other, deliver a
discourse to the company in a sort of gur-
gling, growling manner, with an occasional
low bark, which was indescribably ludicrous

244 DOG STORIES

to see and hear. What he meant by it we
could never find out, but I question whether
he prized any of his accomplishments more
than this.

Sometimes, but not often, he would go out
by himself to take a walk, we supposed to
see his friends, for I never heard that he had
any love affairs. If we all, or my daughters,
or myself, met him on his return, I, or they,
or we all might call to him, notice him as he
brushed past us, or ask him to come for a
walk. No. He would have none of our
company ; he would cut us dead, and go
toddling home, his tail more erect and
quivering than ever ; never hastening his
sedate pace, and giving his usual kick-out
with one hind leg every third or fourth step,
as was his custom. He would have no connec-
tion with us ; that was quite clear and decided.
Sprig was very fond, too, of a walk with his
mistresses or with me, and, though never
taught it, would always wipe his feet clean
on the hall mat as he came in. I am now
going to relate an anecdote of Sprig which
I know is almost beyond credibility, but the

FROM THE "SPECTATOR." 245

occurrence so displayed his power of thought
and reason that I cannot withhold it. My
usual haunt is my den, as I call it, a large
room at one end of our old rambling house.
There Sprig never came unless with his
mistresses, and indeed never was easy when
he was there. I had begun a large full-
length picture of my daughters, and Sprig
and Whisky, a small Skye puppy, were to be
painted lying at their feet. As the picture
progressed, Sprig seemed to understand all
about it, and paid me the compliment ot
wagging his tail at the portraits. One day
my girls had been sitting to me, and it was
now Sprig's turn to sit. I put him into the
proper position and told him to lie still, and
he proved a most patient sitter. When the
sketch of him was finished, I showed it to
him ; I think he was pleased with his like-
ness, for he licked my face ; but as he smelt
at his portrait, he did not like himself, and
growled. Whisky was now put into position,
but was very restless, although Sprig scolded
her by snarling at her. Next day I had put
the picture against the wall near the window,

246 DOG STORIES

and before a few steps which led up into my
bedroom, and was busy perched on a step-
ladder with the after-portion of it. By and
by I heard a great scratching at my bedroom
door, which was closed, and Sprig whining
to get in. I thought this odd, but it was too
much trouble to come down from my perch,
and I told him to go away. He, however,
only whined and scratched the more. I
therefore descended, and getting behind the
picture, went up the steps and opened the
door. Sprig did not notice me, but pushing
past me hurried down the steps, and then, as
I emerged into the room, looked up to me
blandly, and actually sat down in the place
in which I had put him the day before. I
said to him gravely, though infinitely amused,
" No, Sprig, I don't want you to-day ; look,
the colour is all wet, go away to your
mistress." He looked very blank and
greatly disappointed, and stood up with his
tail drooped. Suddenly a bright thought
seemed to strike him, as if he had said,
" Now I have it ! " Whisky had got hold
of one of my slippers, and was playing with

FROM THE "SPECTATOR." 247

it in my bedroom, and Sprig, rushing up the
steps, seized her by the "scruff" of her neck,
dragged her howling down the steps, and put
her, I can use no other words, into the place
where she had been the day before. He
then came to me frisking about, and could
he but have spoken, would have said, "If
you don't want me, you must her, and there
she is ! " He was quite triumphant about it;
and dirty as I was, and palette in hand, I
took him forthwith to the drawing-room and
told them what had happened.

I could tell numberless other stories of the
reasoning power and intelligence of our little
pet, but I should trespass at too great length
on your patience. I could describe a curious
friendship which sprang up between him and
a German friend who was staying some time
with us ; how he learned many new tricks
from him, and was taught to hop on his hind
legs from one end of the drawing-room to
the other, with our friend hopping backwards
before him ; I could describe his evening
romps with my dear father, never omitted
while my father lived ; and the many curious

248 DOG STORIES

traits by which his great love for us was
perpetually displayed — how he learned to
crack nuts of all kinds, and to pick out the
kernels like a squirrel — how he never went
into the servants' hall or the kitchen, and
refused to associate with the servants, though
friendly with them, and especially with John
Lambert, his fast friend. But I must bring
this sketch to a close.

We had been absent about a year in
Germany and the South of France. After
we left, Sprig was inconsolable, and would
not eat ; but the cook made him little curries
and rice, and after a time he became more
resigned. We only heard that he was well,
and hoped we should find him so. The day
we arrived I thought he would have died for
joy. He gasped for breath, and lay down,
and when taken up by his mistress lay in her
arms almost insensible. It was long before
he came to himself, and when he did revive,
it is quite impossible to describe his delight,
or what he did. He was, indeed, quite
beside himself with joy, scouring about,
dragging his mistress here and there, doing

FROM THE « SPECTATOR? 249

all his tricks in a confused manner, and, in
short, behaving after a very insane fashion
indeed. We noticed he had a slight cough ;
but he seemed otherwise quite well, and we
thought it would go away , but it increased,
and at that time there was an epidemic of
bronchitis among dogs. We sent him to an
eminent veterinary surgeon, who blistered
him (and how patient the poor fellow was
under the pain cannot be told), but though
relieved for the time, the end was near.
One morning he was seen to do an ap-
parently quite unaccountable thing. He
took his son Terry (whom he was never
known to notice except by knocking him
over and standing upon him, growling
fiercely), all round our village, and visited all
the dogs in it. John saw him doing this
early in the morning, and told me of it I
suppose he was commending Terry to their
favour. He coughed a great deal all day,
and breathed heavily ; but in the evening he
was very bright, and to all appearance much
better, and insisted on doing all his tricks
till it was time to go to bed. Sprig never

250

DOG STORIES

would go to bed willingly. John used to
come to the drawing-room door and call him,
and he would go to it, but stand growling
till he was caught up and carried off. That
evening, as we remembered, he seemed more
than ever unwilling to go, but was caught up
and carried away.

In the morning, about six o'clock — it was
summer-time — I was just about to get up,
when John Lambert knocked at my door,
and came in with Sprig in his arms. He did
not speak, and I asked him whether Sprig
was worse. "He's dead, sir," said he, with
the tears rolling down his face, and hardly
able to speak. " Quite dead, sir ; he must
have died only a little while ago, for when I
went to let him out, I found him dead and
quite warm, as he is still." I am not
ashamed to write that my eyes felt very
blind, but there was no hope ; the dear little
fellow was quite dead ; he had died calmly,
and his eyes were bright ; they had not
glazed.

We buried him, John and myself, when he
was quite cold and stiff, by a rose-tree at the

FROM THE " SPECTA TOR." 2 5 1

end of the garden. Poor John could hardly
dig the grave, and his tears fell fast and
silently and upon dear old Sprig as we
covered him up for ever. I wish I could
write a fitting epitaph for a creature who,
through his life, was a constant source of
pleasure to all who knew him.

M. T.

252 DOG STORIES

A DOG STORY.

[June 8, 1895.]

A FRIEND thinks I ought to add to the
collection of dog stories appearing in the
Spectator, one which is within my own
knowledge, and may appear deserving of
publication. My uncle, a well-known Chair-
man of the Bench of Magistrates in a
western county, had a tenant on his estates
who occupied a farm not far from the River
Severn. The farmer possessed a favourite
dog, who slept at the foot of his bed every
night. When a brother emigrated to Canada,
the farmer gave him the dog as a travelling
companion. In the course of time the news
arrived that the emigrant and his family,
together with the dog, had safely reached
their destination — a farm in the interior of
Canada some days' journey from the port
where they landed. At a later date the
brother in Canada wrote to his family in
England saying that the dog had disappeared.
Some time afterwards the dog came back to
the farm of his old master about three miles

FROM THE " SPECTA TOR." 253

from Gloucester, and though at first it could
hardly be believed that he was returned from
Canada, yet he soon established his identity
by taking his old place at the foot of his
master's bed at night. Inquiries were made,
and the dog's course was traced backwards
to the River Severn, thence to Bristol, and
thence to a port in Canada. It appeared
that, after running from his home in
Canada to the seaport, he selected there a
vessel bound for Bristol, and shipped on
board. After arriving at the Bristol basin,
he found out a local vessel trading up and
down the River Severn (locally called a
"trow"), and transferred himself to her
deck. When he reached the neighbourhood
of Gloucester, the dog must have jumped
into the Severn and reached the shore
nearest to his old home.

I can vouch for the truth of this story,
from information received from my relations
on the spot shortly after the occurrence took
place. I knew the farm well, and the farmer
who occupied it.

H. C. N.

254 DOG STORIES

A CAT-AND-DOG FRIENDSHIP.

\June 8, 1895.]

THE interesting letter, " A Canine Nurse,"
in the Spectator of May i8th, recalls to
mind an equally curious event in cat and dog
life which occurred some years since in a
house where I was living, but with the
additional interest of a hen being also
implicated.

In the back-kitchen premises of an old
manor-house, amongst hampers, and such
like odds and ends, a cat had a litter of
kittens. They were all removed but one,
and as the mother was frequently absent, a
hen began laying in a hamper close by. For
a time all things went well, the hen sitting on
her eggs and the cat nursing the kitten
within a few inches of each other. The
brood were hatched out, and almost at the
same time the old cat disappeared. The
chickens were allowed to run about on the
floor for sake of the warmth from a neigh-
bouring chimney, and the kitten was fed
with a saucer of milk, &c., in the same place,

FROM THE "SPECTATOR." 255

both feeding together frequently out of the
same dish. The hen used to try to induce
the kitten to eat meal like the chicks, calling
to it and depositing pieces under its nose in
the most amusing way ; finally doing all in
its power to induce the kitten to come, like
her chicks, under her wings. The result was
nothing but a series of squalls from the
kitten, which led to its being promoted from
the back to the front kitchen, where it was
reared until it was grown up. At this time a
young terrier was introduced into the circle,
and after many back-risings and bad language
on pussy's part, they settled down amicably
and romped about the floor in fine style.
Eventually the terrier became an inveterate
rabbit-poacher — killing young rabbits and
bringing them home — a proceeding to which
the cat gave an intelligent curiosity, then a
passive and purring approval, and finally her
own instincts having asserted themselves,
she went off with the dog, hunting in the
woods. Our own keeper reported them as
getting "simply owdacious," being found a
great distance from the house ; and keepers

256 DOG STORIES

of adjacent places also said the pair were
constantly seen hunting hedgerows on their
beats. On one occasion I saw them myself
hunting a short hedge systematically, the
dog on one side, the cat on the other ; and
on coming near an open gateway a hare
was put: out of her form, and bounding
through the open gate, was soon off ; the
dog followed, till he came through the gate-
way, where he stood looking after the hare ;
and the cat joining him, they apparently
decided it was too big or too fast to be
successfully chased, so resumed the hedge-
hunting, each taking its own side as before.

They frequently returned home covered
with mud, and pussy's claws with fur, and
would lie together in front of the fire ; the
cat often grooming down the dog, licking
him and rubbing him dry, and the dog
getting up and turning over the ungroomed
side to be finished. This curious friendship
went on for six months or more, till the dog
had to be kept in durance vile to save him
from traps and destruction, the cat, nothing
daunted, going on with her poaching until

FROM THE "SPECTATOR? 257

one day she met her fate in a trap, and so
brought her course to an end. The dog was
a well-bred fox-terrier, and the cat a tabby of
nothing beyond ordinary characteristics, save
in her early life having been fostered by a
hen, and in her prime the staunch friend and
comrade of poor old Foxie, the terrier. If
there are " happy hunting-grounds " for the
animals hereafter, and such things are
allowed in them, no doubt they will renew
their intimacy, if not their poaching forays,
together there.

R. J. GRAHAM SIMMONDS.

258 DOG STORIES

THE SENSE OF BOUNDARY IN
DOGS.

\March 14, 1885.]

I HAVE been much interested in the com-
munications which have appeared from time
to time in the Spectator in reference to
" animal intelligence." Recently my atten-
tion has been called to a somewhat striking
illustration of it, in the case of my own
dog and his canine neighbour next door.
Wallace is an Irish staghound, and is about a
.rear old. My neighbour's dog is a pointer,
and is considerably advanced in life. There
is no hedge nor fence separating the two
estates. The dividing line runs between two
stone posts about a foot in height, and more
than two hundred feet from each other. The
dogs have never been friendly, the pointer
having repeatedly driven Wallace back over
the boundary when he has caught him
trespassing. Both dogs, even when going at
full speed, stop the moment my dog has

FROM THE "SPECTATOR" 259

crossed the line. How does the pointer
know where the line runs, and how does
Wallace know when he is safely across it ?

F. TUCKERMAN.

ADDITIONAL STORIES.

DOGS AND HUMAN SPEECH.

THE DOG AND THE HOT
BOTTLE.

[Oct. 26, 1895.]

THE following example of canine intelligence
may interest your readers, and help to
establish the fact that dogs do understand
human language more than is generally
realised. Not long ago, one of my guests
was describing to me one evening, after
dinner, how much she suffered from cold
feet, especially at night. In the course of
our talk I said to her, " You ought to use a
hot-water bottle, and I can lend you one
to-night." On which she told me that she
always took one about with her. In a very
short time, my collie, having slipped from
the room unobserved, returned with my
friend's indiarubber hot-water bottle, which
he had brought down from her bedroom. I
inquired where it was kept, and was told it
had been hung on a hook by the window.

264 DOG STORIES

So the dog must have taken some trouble to
accomplish his purpose. I should add thai
the dog has a trick of bringing down shoes
occasionally from upstairs, but has never
before or since brought down any other
article.

S. B.

FROM THE "SPECTATOR." 265

THE DOGS THAT SHOWED

WHERE THE KITTEN WAS

HIDDEN.

[Nov. 30, 1895.]

I HAVE two dogs, a spaniel and a little High-
land terrier, also a cat. The latter has a
kitten, born last Monday week. All the rest
of her family were drowned, and this, I
suppose, has made her rather suspicious of
being moved about, for on Saturday last her
hamper was put out into the yard while the
floor of the washhouse was scrubbed. It
was put back again in the usual place, and
the cat seemed quite happy. However,
some hours after, the kitten was found to be
missing, and the cat was sitting contentedly
on a chair in the little hall. We all hunted
high and low for the kitten, but could not
find it. At last I returned to the dining-
room, where the two dogs were lying before
the fire, and I said casually to the terrier,
" Do show me where the kitten is," never
really thinking that she understood me,
when she solemnly got up, walked round me,

266 DOG STORIES

under the table, and came to my other side,
then stood looking at a small cupboard,
wagging her tail. I opened the cupboard,
and there lay the kitten on a tea-cosy ! I at
once called to my cousin, who had by this
time given up the hunt and was in her own
room. She called to know where it was
found, and I said, "Go down to the dining-
room and ask the dogs to show you." She
then went and said, " Dear dogs, do show
me where the kitty is," and immediately the
spaniel got up and went to the. cupboard,
looking at the door and wagging her tail.
They certainly both understood what was
wanted of them. The spaniel was born in
1887, and has been in my possession since
she was about six weeks old. The terrier is
about the same age, but I have only had her
since December, 1890.

THE OWNER.

FROM THE "SPECTATOR." 267

THE DOG THAT HEARD HE DID
NOT GIVE SATISFACTION.

[Nov. 30, 1895.]

ABOUT a fortnight ago I was given a fox-
terrier, on condition that if it did not suit me
I should return it to the donor. Last
Sunday evening I was sitting in the drawing-
room with my wife, the dog lying on his mat
by the fire. I said that I was dissatisfied
with the dog, and should write and offer to
return him. My wife urged me to do so
then and there, and, after discussing the
matter for a short time, I got up to pen the
letter. As I did so, the servant came to
take the dog for a run prior to turning in for
the night. No sooner was the garden-door
opened than off went the dog, full speed, into
the darkness, and has not been heard of
since. He had always been taken out in the
same way before, and had always come in on
being called. Whether he understood the
conversation I cannot tell. All I can say is
that I can offer no other explanation for his
disappearance. My wife and the servant

268 DOG STORIES

who let the dog out can vouch for the truth
of these particulars. The letter which I
wrote offering to return him lies before me
unposted, "to witness if I lie."

G. S. LAYARD.

FROM THE "SPECTATOR." 269

JOE AND THE TENNIS TOUR-
NAMENT

[Dec. 14, 1895.]

MAY I add my testimony to the intelligence
of dogs in the matter of understanding what
is said in their hearing ? Several years ago
I had a beloved mongrel fox-terrier named
Joe. We were staying some months at
Penzance, and the dog went everywhere
with us, and knew the place well. One day
we were, as usual in the afternoon, on the
club tennis ground, when the secretary came
up and warned me that on the following day,
as there was to be a tournament, no dogs
would be admitted to the enclosure. I
promised to shut Joe up at home. That
evening we missed the dog, and in the
morning also he was not to be seen. When
we went to look on at the tournament in the
afternoon, we found Joe waiting for us ;
the groundman told us that the dog had
been there all night, and would not allow
himself to be caught. He had never slept
out before, and he certainly must have

270 DOG. STORIES

understood what was said. We often used
to say, " We will drive to such a place
to-day, but Joe must stay at home," and
almost invariably, in whatever direction it
might be, before we had driven a mile, we
found Joe waiting for us by the roadside ;
he always grinned when we came up with
him.

HENRIETTA M. BATSON.

DOGS AND THEIR POWER TO
FEEL EMOTION.

THE EMOTION OF GRIEF IN
DOGS.

{June 22, 1895.]

YOUR article on "The Emotion of Grief in
Animals," in the Spectator of June 15, leads
me to send you an account of what happened
to me. Some years ago I was out riding,
accompanied by my two dogs — an Irish
water-spaniel and a bull-terrier. I had a fall
and broke my thigh. The distress of the
dogs was touching to see. They ran to and
fro, barking and howling, apparently to
attract attention. When assistance came, I
was carried home on a hurdle, the two dogs
trotting one on either side of it ; and when
the bearers put the burden down to rest, they
jumped on to it, licking my face and hands.
For several days the spaniel lay for hours in
the carriage-drive, apparently watching for
his master. One morning, when the post-

18 273

274 DOG STORIES

man delivered the letters, the servant gave
the dog my newspaper, and with, u Bring it
along, Paddy," he carried it upstairs into my
room. His joy at seeing me was worth
beholding ; and from that day he regularly
met the postman, carried the newspaper off,
and laid it on my bed. He was scarcely ever
after absent from the room or the passage
leading to ic.

T. W.

FROM THE "SPECTATOR." 275

FUNERAL OFFERINGS BY A
DOG.

[June 29, 1895.]

THE dog story told by a correspondent in
the Spectator of June 22, illustrative of "the
emotion of grief in animals," recalls to my
mind an incident in which a dog's grief at the
loss of a companion, and memory, are both
displayed. Dutch was a brown retriever of
advanced years ; Curly was reputed to be a
Scotch terrier, but his appearance suggested
some uncertainty in his descent. Dutch was
chained to her kennel, and Curly, who en-
joyed his liberty, evinced his friendship by
frequently taking bones and other canine
delicacies to his less fortunate friend. One
morning Curly presented himself at the
house evincing unmistakable signs of grief
by his demeanour and his whines. A visit to
the kennel, where poor Dutch was found
lying dead, showed the occasion of Curly's
unhappiness. We buried Dutch decorously
under a vine in the garden, and supposed
that Curly would forget the incident, but we

276 DOG STORIES

were touched to see him, in the capacity of
faithful mourner, frequently revisit the spot
where his old friend was laid, taking with
him by way of offering, choice bones, which
he carefully buried by the grave. This
practice Curly continued for two years, when

we left the house.

A. E. W.

FROM THE "SPECTATOR." 277

HOW WRINKLE MOURNED FOR
DUCHESS.

[June 29, 1895.]

YOUR very interesting paper, in the Spectator
of June 15, on " The Emotion of Grief in
Animals," leads me to write to you upon
what appears to be a very strong appearance
of it in a pug-dog, who in many ways shows
signs of almost human intelligence, thought,
and judgment. Wrinkle was unusually
strong and active' for one of his race.
Duchess, his canine friend and companion,
nearly of his own age, was brought up with
him, and was a large St. Bernard. These
dogs always acted together ; Wrinkle did the
thinking, Duchess followed his lead in every-
thing, the smaller dog being fully accepted
as the master. Among their amusements
were mimic fights on the lawn, in which
Wrinkle developed marvellous skill, and in
races, which, by cleverness rather than speed,
he generally won. Fierce as these mock-
battles were, no case of a real quarrel evei
occurred. They would share a bone

278 DOG STORIES

amicably, Wrinkle taking always the first
turn at it. After the dogs attained maturity,
their play and companionship continued. It
happened, unfortunately, some years ago,
that the St. Bernard died by accidental
poisoning. Wrinkle attended the funeral
almost in silence, the only evidence of
sympathy being the tears that ran down his
short nose.

The successor of Duchess was a deer-
hound, Huldah, a cheerful, playful, and
gentle-tempered beast. Wrinkle accepted
the new companionship complacently, did not
resent an occasional occupation of his bed,
and to a certain extent trained the deer-
hound to assume the guardianship that the
St. Bernard had always taken in their walks
and excursions ; but play and romping were
resented, the mimic fights and races were
over for ever. A few days later a sprightly
fox-terrier was added to the family, and re-
ceived toleration and countenance to nearly
the same extent as the deerhound, but play
and sport were still refused. Wrinkle is
sociable and friendly, in a dignified and

FROM THE "SPECTATOR." 279

superior way, with most of the dogs he meets,
but has never been known to play with any
since Duchess died ; he insists on retaining
his mastership, and seems able to assert it
without ill-temper or quarrelling. To his
mistress, my daughter, he devotes all his
affection as he always did, but for none of
his own race can he afford to give such love

as he had for his lost friend.

E. W. Cox.

28c DOG STORIES

THE DOG AND HIS MASTER'S
GRAVE.

[June 22, 1895.]

MAY I give another instance of a dog's
fidelity to a dead master ? The curate of
a parish adjoining mine in the Vale of
Evesham, having died in the hamlet in which
he served, was buried in the parish church-
yard, some two miles distant. His dog had
had been shut up till after the funeral,
and, when let loose, was supposed to be
lost. It was found some days afterwards
lying on its master's grave. He came
from Newfoundland, and I rather think
had brought the dog from thence. When I
was dining with another incumbent near
Evesham, his dog walked in. It had been
given to a gentleman who lived near Birming-
ham, and sent thither by train, but found its
way back, more than thirty miles. The
same thing happened, not long ago, near this,
and the dog, which came from Londonderry,
must have made its way all round Lough
S willy, a distance of many miles. It had
been sent by railway and steamboat.

N. S. BATT, A.M.

FROM THE "SPECTATOR." 281

"GREYFRIARS' BOBBY."

[June 22, 1895.]

IT must be a quarter of a century since
u Grey friars' Bobby " blazed the comet of a
season. The authorised version of the story
is practically that which appeared in the
Spectator of June 15. If the question is not
raised now, it will be too late to do so
in the future. Was Bobby an impostor ?
I have heard his achievements questioned
in Edinburgh. I have been informed that
Bobby was so trained in hypocrisy that
he lost all self-respect. The dog, it was
averred, went home with the sexton regu-
larly at night, and returned with him to the
graveyard in the morning, and then, like any
other trained mendicant, took up his pitch on
the grave of his quondam master. Trained
or not, Bobby was an interesting little
fellow, and until his death, he was to be seen
by day on his master's grave, which he would
leave about one o'clock. Then he regularly
paid a visit to Trail's dining-rooms, con-
tiguous to the churchyard, where he was sure

282 DOG STORIES

of a hearty welcome, and having appeased
his hunger, he would again hie away to the
grave, receive visitors while the sexton re-
ceived tips, and at nightfall leave the grave-
yard with the grave-digger. If Bobby was
an impostor, his career ought to be laid

bare.

X.

[We do not believe in this view of " Grey-
friars' Bobby," having received a totally dif-
ferent account of him in Edinburgh eight or
nine years ago. — ED. Spectator.

FROM THE "SPECTATOR." 283

A DOG WITH INJURED
FEELINGS.

[August 17, 1895.]

MAY I send you another dog story ? My
dog, a half-retriever, half-setter, has been
with me for six years since I rescued him as
a puppy with a can on his tail. He has fol-
lowed me constantly, and though always very
friendly with everybody, has been devoted to
me both indoors and out. Lately a change
has come over him ; he would come into my
room when called, but would take the first
opportunity to go out. He seemed to be
dull, to have lost his old joyousness in our
companionship. Last fall my children went
to England, and I thought he missed them.
He would leave my room to lie under the
kitchen-table, and would follow the hired boy
about the place, so I told the housekeeper to
keep him out of the kitchen, and the boy to
take no notice of him. It made no difference.
Forbidden the kitchen, he would leave my
room and lie in the hall. He had always
been accustomed to follow me almost every-

284 VOG STORIES

where, whether riding or driving ; but this
year, thinking the journey to town (sixteen
miles) and back too much for him, I had left
him at the ranch when going to town. Last
Saturday I was driving to town, the dog
started to follow, and as the boy was going
to send him back, I said, " Oh ! never mind;
let him come," and he came with us. Now
the whole mystery is explained. On our
return, the dog quite resumed his old habits.
The change was extraordinary. He comes
into my room and stays there as a matter
of course ; he greets me every morning on
coming downstairs ; he jumps round in the
old joyous fashion when I go out — in fact, is
himself again. Evidently the trip to town
was one of his most cherished privileges, and
he took his own way to show that he had no
use for a master who deprived him of it.

L. C. H.

FROM THE "SPECTATOR." 28*

DOG FRIENDS,

{December 14, 1895.]

As I know your columns are always open to
well-authenticated stories of the wonderful
gifts of our four-footed friends, I venture to
think that you will be interested in the fol-
lowing anecdote. Thirty years ago I was
living in St. George's Square, Pimlico, and
near me — in Denbigh Street, at a distance
of ten minutes' walk — resided a well-known
journalist, Mr. Percy Gregg. He had a little
black-and-tan dog, for which I found a home
when his master was about to leave London.
It was reported to me that Jimmie always
left my house after breakfast. At first some
alarm was felt that he would stray ; but as he
invariably returned after an hour's stroll, I
took him to be one of those " vagrom "
animals who cannot live without a prowl in
the streets, and I felt no anxiety. But I
ascertained that whenever he went away, he
carried off a bone or something edible with
him. 1 watched him one or two mornings,
and saw him squeeze through the area-railings,

286 DOG STORIES.

on each occasion carrying a big bone, which
he had great difficulty in steering through the
iron bars. Being curious about the destina-
tion of the food I made up my mind to follow
him. I tracked him to an empty house, next
to that in which his former owner had lived.
In a cellar in the area there lived a half-
starved, ownerless terrier, who, I suppose,
had once been a friend of Jimmie's, and whom
my dog, in his days of prosperity, never forgot.
Regularly the good little fellow trotted off to
the empty cellar, and divided his morning's
meal with his poor friend. The story is told
of the great Napoleon riding over one of his
battlefields — I don't know whether it was
Wagram or Austerlitz — and pointing to a
faithful dog watching the body of his dead
master, with the words, " That dog teaches
us all a lesson of humanity ! " So did
Jimmie.

THOMAS HAMBER.

BOB, THE AUSTRALIAN
RAILWAY DOG.

BOB, THE RAILWAY DOG.

[August 24, 1895.]

I OFTEN see interesting letters in the Spec-
tator about dogs, and I thought perhaps your
readers might care to hear about the best-
known dog in Australia, and his curious mode
of life. His name is Railway Bob, and he
passes his whole existence on the train, -his
favourite seat being on the top of the coalbox.
In this way he has travelled many thousands
of miles, going over all the lines in South
Australia. He is well known in Victoria,
frequently seen in Sydney, and has been up
as far as Brisbane ! The most curious part
of his conduct is that he has no master, but
every engine-driver is his friend. At night
he follows home his engine-driver of the day,
never leaving him, or letting him out of his
sight until they are back in the railway-
station in the morning, when he starts off on
19 289

290 DOG STORIES

another of his ceaseless journeyings. I have
not seen him on our line for some time ; but
noticed with regret last time he was in the
station that he was showing signs of age, and
limping as he walked.

ADELAIDE E. CRESWELL.

FROM THE "SPECTATOR." 291

DEATH OF BOB, THE SOUTH
AUSTRALIAN RAILWAY DOG.

{Sept. 21, 1895.]

KNOWING your constant sympathy with the
canine race, I venture to enclose some ex-
tracts from the Adelaide Observer concerning
a well-known character in the Colony.

CATHERINE E. BUXTON.

" It is but seldom that we feel called upon
to record the death of a member of the canine
family, but the demise of Bob, the well-
known railway dog, will be mourned by many
of our rising youth, and evoke a sigh from
the travelling public and railway employes,
among whom Bob was a great favourite.
It was customary for Bob, whilst spending
a few days in the city, to pay frequent visits
to Mr. Evans's butcher shop in Hindley-
street for meals. On Monday afternoon he
was given his third meal by Mr. F. J.
Preston, an employ^ of Mr. Evans, when
shortly afterwards, about 3.10 p.m., he barked
at a passing dog, and then, with a pitiful

292 DOG STORIES

whine, fell dead. He was about seventeen
years of age, and had only a few days ago
returned from a trip to Broken Hill. Mr.
L. M. Tier has claimed the body of the dog,
and Mr. Nathan, in accordance with a pro-
mise made some months ago, will stuff it.
A correspondent some time ago wrote the
following interesting particulars about Bob's
life : — ' There is only one privileged indivi-
dual in the province permitted at all times to
use the Government railways without pay-
ment, and, further, without a pass. Even
the late Chairman Smith has been asked for
his ticket, and the importunate porter would
take no excuse ; but ' franked ' on all lines,
and on engine, in van, or carriage alike, the
one constant traveller, who acts as though
he believed the railways were made for him,
is our hero. You may meet him to-day on
the Serviceton line, and next week at Oodna-
datia. He is well known in the Adelaide
Station, and his friendly salute is often heard
from the open window of a carriage on the
Port line, as he enjoys a suburban trip. He
is always welcome in the porters'-room, but

FROM THE "SPECTATOR" 293

his favourite place is on a Yankee engine ;
the big whistle and belching smokestack
seem to have an irresistible attraction for
him. His acquaintances on all lines are
numerous, and he often engages in such
lengthy salutations that the train by which
he has been travelling starts without him ;
but he is never left behind, as he has a
perfect knowledge of how to mount a train
in motion. He is not particular as to how
far he goes in any given direction. He has
set out for a hundred- mile trip, but suddenly
changed his mind and also his engine at a
roadside station, and come straight back
again. He lives on the fat of the land, and
he is not particular from whom he accepts
his dinner. All the members of the staff
contribute willingly to his needs, and he
reciprocates these good offices by refusing to
reply to any appeals from the ordinary
public. It is very clearly established that
his sympathies are with the railway men,
though he is not on the committee of the

294 DOG STORIES

" I had the honour of the acquaintance of
Bob, the railway dog, and I must say that
he was one of Nature's canine gentlemen,"
writes Hugh Kalyptus, " always self-pos-
sessed, dignified without hauteur, friendly
without being familiar, and courteous, in-
asmuch as he would always rise when
addressed, pay attention to what was said to
him, and never treat anyone superciliously,
as I have seen many bipeds do. Bob
made no difference between fustian and
broadcloth. He was what I call a well-
balanced Democrat, making no invidious
distinctions, but treating all classes with
courtesy, born of a correctly cast character.
I have seldom seen a man with a -more
marked character than Bob. Although a
notability, he never seemed conscious of it,
but would walk the platform of a station
anywhere between here and the end of the
railway system in a calm self-contained style,
like a person who had travelled much,
accepting the greetings of his various friends
as with the air of an equal, and it mattered
not to him whether a lord, a statesman, or a

FROM THE "SPECTATOR." 295

mere member of the mob patted his head,
he wagged his tail and walked on his wise
way. Bob had a capital memory, and
woe betide the person who treated him dis-
courteously— he would cut him dead the
next time. On one occasion an official
employed on one of the stations of the
Northern line, being a little lax in the liver,
had the presumption to kick Bob out of
his way as he lay sunning himself on the
platform waiting for a train. Bob never
got out at that station again. He cut the
station and its official dead ; and, if he had a
legacy to leave, it would not be that man's
name that would be mentioned in Bob's
will. I remember once in the course of a
several-hundred-mile bicycle trip I struck a
wayside station, and was entertained by
Bob with all the cordiality with which a
gentlemanly dog of confirmed character
greets one whom he knows to be a firm
friend of his race. He took a great interest
in my faithful ' Tyler ' bicycle, and, sitting
down at my side, sedately watched every
detail of the cleaning up, oiling, and other

296 DOG STORIES

incidental operations. The work appeared
to secure his approval, and he gravely walked
round the machine three times, examining
all the parts, and, as nearly as a dog could,
said, ' That's all right ; she'll do now/ and
he politely accompanied me to the ticket-
office, watched the booking process, and
saw the bicycle safely disposed in the van.
I thought it very kind and attentive of
him ; he had evidently often seen the
engine-drivers cleaning up their engines,
and regarded my performance as something
akin."

FROM THE -SPECTATOR." 297

THE DEATH OF BOB, THE

SOUTH AUSTRALIAN RAILWAY

DOG.

[Oct. 19, 1895.]

BOB, the South Australian railway dog,
has ended his eventful career, which is, I
think, worthy of notice in the Spectator*
Like many other clever dogs, he was of un-
certain breed. As a puppy he was attached
to a rabbiting party in our North country,
and, while still young, was given to a railway
guard, with whom he travelled for some time,
having been taught to jump into the van, our
narrow-gauge lines having no platforms.
Bob very soon came to consider himself
as one of the railway staff, and although civil
to passengers who spoke to him, he never
made friends with any but railway employes,
whom he seemed instinctively to recognise.
The engine-drivers and stokers were his
special friends, and for many years he
travelled all over the South Australian lines,
and occasionally over those connected with
them in the other Colonies. His favourite
* See also Spectator for September 2 1 .

298 DOG STORIES.

seat was on the tender, and his whole
demeanour showed that he considered him
self an important adjunct to the locomotive.
He belonged to the department, not to any
individual driver, and I have seen him jump
off one engine and join another, apparently
without any reason, when passing at small
roadside stations hundreds of miles from the
terminus. His licence was always paid for
by the men, and he wore a collar which bore
the legend : " Stop me not but let me jog, I
am Bob, the drivers' dog." The interest of
his career lies in the fact that he attached
himself to the locomotives, recognised no
individual as master, and no house as home.
He seemed to travel from pure enjoyment of
movement, and was quite as much at home
in the small up-country stations as in the
city. He never seemed to be in a hurry,
often remaining in the station till the last
moment and joining the engine just as it
started. He was well fed, and in spite of
numerous predictions to the contrary, was not
killed by accident on the line, but died in town
at a good old age. ALEX. B. MONCRIEFF.

MORE .MISCELLANEOUS STORIES.

A SHEEP-DOG'S MIND.

[Dec. 21, 1895.]

WHENEVER I sent the shepherd with sheep to
the local auction the shepherd went in front,
and Turk, a cross between a retriever and
collie, followed leisurely behind. He helped
to put the sheep in the allotted pens, and
then while the shepherd betook himself to a
neighbouring "pub," Turk lay down before
the pens. He always stayed there until the
auctioneer came along and sold the sheep.
Turk watched him carefully as he went
from one pen to the other ; and as soon as
the hammer had fallen on the last pen, he
wended his way to the publichouse, found the
shepherd, and went home with him. Subse-
quently be became both blind and deaf, and
quite incapable of work. He also took to
coming into the house and lying there ; and
as my children are little, and consider all dogs
their particular playmates, and as Turk's

302 DOG STORIES.

temper became uncertain, I was obliged to
have him shot. I feel sure if I could have
explained the matter to him he would have
recognised the justice of the decree.

FRED HORNE.

FROM THE "SPECTATOR." 303

A COLLIE'S INTELLIGENCE.

[Oct. 26, 1895.]

A NEIGHBOUR of mine has a young collie
which sleeps in the kitchen, where is kept
during the night the key of the gate of the
yard. The yard-man on his arrival in the
morning is accustomed to tap at the kitchen
window for the key, which the maid- servant
then hands to him through the bars of the
gate. One morning lately the maid happened
to be out of the kitchen when the man
tapped, and the dog (who must have realised
the meaning of the taps) took the key in his
mouth and carried it to the man at the gate.
The dog is very highly bred, but has never
been taught to fetch or carry, and is only
about a year old.

A READER OF THE " SPECTATOR."

304 DOG STORIES

A RELIGIOUS DOG AND PAGAN
CAT.

{Oct. 26, 1895.]

OF the telling of many stories of cats and
dogs there is no end, and much reading of
them is a delight to the flesh. Here is a
genuine one told to me by a dear and most
trustworthy friend — an incumbent in York-
shire. His dog had certain religious instincts,
and when he saw the books brought out for
evening prayers, retired to his corner. One
evening they were brought out while he was
gnawing a bone. Instinctively he dropped it
and withdrew. The cat, being a pagan and
carnivorous, took possession of the bone.
The dog glowered at her, but budged not an
inch. Scarcely had the last " Amen " sounded,
when he made one spring. The fate of that
cat I have not words to describe.

ROBERT GWYNNE.

FROM THE "SPECTATOR" 305

A PRAYING DOG.

[Oct. 26, 1895.]

A FEW weeks ago 1 sent you a dog story. I
beg now to send you another, related to me
by the Bishop of Wakefield, when he was
rector of Whittington, in the county of Salop.
Dr. How is, I believe, a Shrewsbury man,
and is therefore well acquainted with many a
Salopian family. Well, in Shrewsbury a
certain family had a dog of a religious turn
of mind, who regularly attended the family
prayers. When the bell rang for morning
and evening prayer, the dog invariably
accompanied the household into the room
where prayers were said. Of course, each
member of the family would kneel . down,
leaning upon a chair and with the head bowed
down, supported by the hands and arms.
The dog would copy this example exactly.
He would sit upon his hind-legs, and in that
way copy the kneeling of the family. Then,
in order to copy the arms resting on the chair
and the head in the hands, the dog would
put his forelegs on the chair and his head

20

306 DOG STORIES

down between them. He would remain in
this attitude until prayers were over, and
then, when the family rose, he would also
rise, and perhaps leave the room with some
members of the household.

LUDOVICUS.

FROM THE "SPECTATOR." 307

A DOG'S ADVENTURE.

[Oct. 26, 1895.]

MAY I be allowed to add one more to the dog
stories which have appeared in the Spectator ?
When my brothers and I were young,
we had a white French poodle as our friend
and constant companion. He was a strong,
muscular dog, standing, I should think,
about 1 8 in. high at the shoulder, and quite
the most intelligent dog I have ever known.
Among other accomplishments, we had
taught him to climb a ladder. He went up
very cleverly, and could sometimes turn
round and come down ; but he could not
always depend upon doing this successfully,
and occasionally he slipped and came down
with a run, but we were always there to
catch him, so no harm was done. The dog
was inordinately fond of running after stones,
and was seldom without one in his mouth.
In those days, I am afraid, we were hardly
alive to the grinding effect of stones upon the
teeth. In the part of Devonshire in which
we lived there had been a great deal of

3o8 DOG STORIES

mining for copper, and there were various
workings, old and new, on my father's estate.
In a wood, which stood on the side of a steep
hill, not half-a-mile from the house, a gallery,
or " adit," as it is called locally, had been
driven into the hill-side in the hope of inter-
secting at a lower level a lode which had
shown itself above. To those who passed
down the main path of the wood this adit
showed itself as a cave, quite dark within.
Going that way one day with my brothers
and having the poodle's stone in my hand,
I idly and thoughtlessly threw it into the
mouth of the adit. The dog rushed after it,
and to my surprise and horror, we heard the
stone fall, and immediately afterwards the
dog. This told us that there was a shaft in
the adit, a most unusual thing ; we listened
but could hear no sound, and we had not a
doubt that the dog had been killed ; one
thing surprised us, it was well known to us
that all disused shafts had water at the
bottom, but we could hear by the sound of
the fall that it had not been into water. The
loss of our favourite was a terrible blow, but

FROM THE "SPECTATOR." 309

we determined, if it were possible, to ascer
tain his fate, and at least to recover his body.
We rushed home, procured the longest ladder
we could find on the emergency, a rope, a
lantern, with a long string attached to it, and
a couple of men. I should think the ladder
was about 22 ft. long, With these we went
to the adit ; on letting down the lantern into
the shaft, there we saw the dog on the ledge
of rock or earth, looking up and apparently
none the worse for his fall. We lowered the
ladder by the rope, one of us intending to go
down and carry him up, but we found the
ladder was not long enough to reach from
the ledge where the dog was standing to the
edge of the shaft ; and this presented a
difficulty which we began to discuss. How-
ever, no sooner was the ladder fixed than the
dog began to climb it, and our shouts could
not prevent him. As the ladder did not
quite reach to the edge of the shaft we feared
that when he got to the top he might slip and
have another fall, and this time probably to
the bottom of the shaft, for we could see that
all was dark beyond the ledge on which he

3io DOG STORIES

had been standing; owing to some mining
freak the shaft had stopped here, but had
been sunk again a few feet to the right. Up
came the dog ; the longest of us bent over
the edge of the shaft, the others holding on
by his heels, he just managed to reach the
scruff of the dog's neck, and hauled him up ;
and there he was among us safe, and show-
ing every sign of gladness to be with us
again. I can hardly say what form our re-
joicings took at the moment, but the dog was
a more beloved companion than ever. He
did not show the slightest sign of having

been hurt by the fall.

J. F. COLLIER.

FROM THE "SPECTATOR." 311

THE DOG AND THE MATCHES.

\Sept. 21, 1895.]

I HAVE a fox-terrier whose idiosyncrasies
excite much interest. Professor Lloyd
Morgan, of University College, Bristol,
chronicled the same in one of his articles
dealing with animal instinct. This dog
never sees a match lighted without attempting
to put it out, and jumps and snaps at it in a
most excited manner. When he was quite
young, I dropped something on the floor,
and as it was growing dark, lit a candle and
stooped down to look for it. The dog jumped
at the candle and extinguished it. I thought
it was done by accident, and relit it. The
animal snapped again at the flame, and again
put it out. He has often singed himself sub-
sequently, but has always persevered, when
permitted, till he has put out a match lighted
and held within jumping reach, or a lighted
candle ; but as paraffin lamps are used in our
house, we have thought it rather dangerous
to encourage his proclivity lest it might lead
to accident. He also, if a small pair of

3i2 DOG STORIES

tongs be taken out of the fireplace and
given to him, behaves in a most singular
manner, whining over them most plaintively,
seizing them in his teeth, and then letting
them go again, and whining as if begging
them not to hurt him, just as in " Robinson
Crusoe," Friday is said to have talked to the
gun. We can only account for this by the
fact that, when a very young dog, one of the
servants threatened to pinch him with the
tongs — perhaps she actually did so ; but the
reason for his light-extinguishing propensity
is totally an enigma to us.

ALGERNON WARREN.

[Sept. 28, 1895.]

THE story in the Spectator of September 21,
reminds me that I once possessed a dog who
had precisely the same trick of attacking fire
as that mentioned by your correspondent.
He was a red Irish terrier that I bought in
Kildare when so young that I am sure he
had not been taught the trick. He would
4< paw " at a lighted match on the ground, or

FROM THE "SPECTATOR." 313

would seize in his teeth a lighted piece of
paper and shake it till he had put it out. In
the same way he would " worry " at a cigar
end thrown on the ground, and never leave
it till he was satisfied there was no fire left.
I may mention that he once, in Canada, killed
single-handed a skunk — an animal which, as
a rule, it is said a dog will not face. I
wished myself he had not, as for months
afterwards his presence was evident long
before one saw him, on a wet day

particularly.

OLD SOLDIER.

3H DOG STORIES

CRIB.

[Sept. 28, 1895.]

THE following notes relating to Crib, a white
bull-terrier, were dictated by his owner,
William Essex, iron warehouseman, who had
charge of a horse : —

41 Being away for a day, another man was
left in charge of the horse. Crib took
possession of the stable, and would not let
him go in to feed the horse. One of the
blacksmiths thought of a plan, went into the
next yard and shouted ' Essex ! ' Crib ran
out to see where Essex was, and they shut
the door for the man to attend to the horse.
Crib frequently went with my fellow-work-
man, George Harcourt, home to meals. On
one occasion he missed him. When he (Har-
court) came back from breakfast, he told the
dog he ought to have gone, as he had a lot of
small bones for him ; but he must go up to
dinner with him. Taking him at dinner-
time, he told his wife he had brought Crib
to have the bones. She replied, ' You had
not been gone ten minutes from breakfast

FROM THE "SPECTATOR: 315

before he came and had them.' He had
never been known to go there by himself
before. An old man, a Quaker named
Fletcher, lodged with me, and would fre-
quently take Crib a walk. Going across
Merstowe Green the clock commenced strik-
ing the quarters for five, which was my tea-
time. At the first stroke of the clock, the
dog stood still, put his head on one side, and
attentively listened till the clock struck five.
With the last stroke, Crib turned round, ran
home, and met me as I went to tea. We
had been at opposite ends of the town. Mr.
Fletcher arriving at home, the first word was
to my wife, ' Mary, what time did Crib
come home ? ' ' About three minutes past
five.' ' O, beggar him, he knows what
o'clock it is ; for as soon as it began striking
he stood still and listened ; and as soon as it
had struck the last stroke he ran back home.'
On another occasion I and Thomas Handy
were at work in my cellar. Handy, seated
on the second step, pulled out a packet of
lollipops, asked me to take one, asked Crib
to take one, took one himself, screwed the

3i6 DOG STORIES

paper up, and put it in his pocket. Crib
then left the cellar. In about fifteen minutes
Handy asked me to have another, put his
hand in his pocket, and cried out, ' That
d — d dog 'a got 'em/ Crib had meantime
besn up the cellar steps on his left hand side,
picked his pocket unperceived, returned on
his right-hand side, gone into the back
kitchen, opened the paper, which he left there
empty, and quietly enjoyed what he had
quietly stolen. On another occasion we had
young potatoes for dinner. As we could not
mash them with the gravy, Crib would not
eat them, licked all gravy from the potatoes,
hooked them off the plate and placed them
out of sight under the rim. My wife went
into the back kitchen to see if he had eaten
his dinner, and said, ' There's a good dog for
eating the 'taters.' Crib looked up, wagging
his tail, with a ' bow-wow.' As soon as she
stooped to pick up the plate he dropped his
tail, went into the front room, and ran under
the easy-chair out of sight. My wife called
the rest of the family to see the potatoes
in a perfect ring under the edge of the plate.

FROM THE "SPECTATOR." 317

On Sunday night my wife put my everyday
working-jacket in my elbow-chair for Crib
to sleep on as usual. He went and looked
at the coat, then crossed the room, looked at
and smelt my black Sunday coat. My wife
asked him, ' Do you want Daddy's Sunday
coat ? ' and he answered with a ' bow-wow.'
She took the coat, removed the one that
he was in, and before she could place the
other, Crib was in the chair. She took
the coat, remarking that he could not
have the Sunday coat, and replaced
the other. Looking very disappointed he
jumped down, and remained all night on
the cold stones. The undisturbed cushion
showed that he never went to his usual bed.
Crib always took tea, but would not drink it
except from my wife's saucer, which was dif-
ferent from the rest. If it was given in any
other he would go and look, but would not
touch it till it was put in my wife's saucer.
Being a Good Templar I was accustomed to
take from home a jug of cold water on
'Lodge' night, Friday. Crib unperceived
followed us one night. He was admitted,

3i8 DOG STORIES

properly clothed in the regalia (the broad
ribbon being put round his neck and crossed
over his back), sat very quiet and looked
very pleased for an hour and a quarter.
From that time we could never keep him
from ' Lodge.' Afterwards when the jug was
placed on the table before starting from
home, if the door was open, he would im-
mediately start and go to the lodge room in
the next street. Crib's master was caretaker
of the Friends' Meeting House, the door of
his house opening into the passage up which
the Friends had to pass. Crib would lie still
and take not the slightest notice whilst the
Friends belonging to Evesham went up the
passage. Should a stranger be with them,
Crib would bark the moment an unaccus-
tomed step was heard. At one time there
was something wrong with Crib internally.
When the pain came on, he would set up his
back, go round and round and cry out most
piteously. I was recommended to give him
laudanum. When he found the pain coming
on, he would stand and look up at the bottle
on the shelf, then look at my wife or

FROM THE "SPECTATOR" 319

daughter, then at the bottle, jump up in the
big chair and lie quiet for a dose of laudanum.
This he did twenty times. Poor Crib went
mad, and had to be destroyed in his eleventh
year, September, 1874."

D. DAVIS.

320 DOG STORIES

A CLEVER HUNTER.

[Sept. 28, 1895.]

As your readers seem interested in stories of
canine sagacity and cleverness, I gladly send
you a short account of a small spaniel's
singular action and acuteness of thought. A
few days ago I was taking a walk before
breakfast in some fields near my house,
accompanied by my little dog. I did not
pay much attention to her doings, but noticed
she was running about as if in search of
game. However, on my way home I found
the dog was unwilling to follow me. She all
the time wished to turn back. She would
follow a few yards behind if I went on ; but
if I looked round she would immediately
pause, and then make her way back towards
the fields. This happened several times
At last I concluded that the spaniel had
some object in view in wishing to retrace her
steps, and so I returned with her, she
leading the way and I following. She went
straight to a rabbit, and bolted it. We had

FROM THE "SPECTATOR." 321

a good chase, and at last succeeded in
catching the rabbit.

Now, the dog had evidently discovered
the rabbit on its form when ranging about
the fields, but thought it unsafe to start it in
my absence, for I had left the fields and was
now on the high-road. She clearly wanted
my help and encouragement in the chase.
I would observe that we have here an
instance of great caution on the part of the
dog. Her natural impulse would be to start
the rabbit at once and pursue it. This
impulse the dog checked. Moreover, I
would point out that my little bitch seemed
to exercise her reasoning powers, and that
in a marked way. She, as it were, said to
herself: — "I will not bolt the rabbit in the
absence of my master. I will run after him
and bring him back, and then, encouraged
and helped by him, I shall start the rabbit,
and, if possible, catch it." I consider that
my little dog showed that it possessed the
faculty of reasoning in checking its natural
impulse, which would lead it to spring at the
rabbit at once, and also in fetching me back

21

322 DOG STORIES

to be a witness and a helper in the chase
that ensued. All her actions manifested
caution, sagacity, and the possession as well
as the exercise of the faculty of reason.

LUDOVICUS.

FROM THE "SPECTATOR." 323

THE HOMING INSTINCT IN
DOGS.

{Aug. 10, 1895.]

AMONG your numerous dog stories perhaps
the following may find a place. I have a
Skye terrier puppy, only nine months old.
On Thursday afternoon my son and a friend
took him from here outside an omnibus to
Coleridge's village, Nether Stovvey, nine
miles nearly due west. They then walked
to another village, Stoke Conrey, three miles
to the north. Leaving him outside the
church for a few minutes, he had disappeared
when they left it, and the only trace of him
that could be found was the report of some
men who had seen him running over a hill
still further to the north. On Friday night,
at 12.30, he reappeared at home. He must
have either retraced his steps to Nether
Stowey, and then come home by the road
the omnibus went by, two sides of a triangle,
twelve miles, or else come home by the main
road from Stoke Conrey, a most complicated

324 DOG STORIES.

and winding road, nine miles, which he had
never seen before. Either feat seems rather
startling from such a canine baby, and makes
his name, " Teufel," rather appropriate.

E. T. PAGE.

INDEX.

ADDITIONAL STORIES, 261
Adventure, A Dog's, 307
Affection, 106
Affection, A Dog's, 105
Alpine Dog, An, 63
Animal Intelligence, 68
Animals and Language, 72
Animals, Communication

with, 77
Animals, Friendships of

Dogs with other, 135
Animals, How our Meaning

is Conveyed to, 65
Animals, The Courage of,

217

Are Dogs Colour-blind ? 213
Arts, Dogs and the, 119
Australian Dog Story, 203
Australian Railway Dog,

Bob the, 287
Automata, Conscious, 136

BIOGRAPHY of Sprig, 237
Bob, the Australian Railway

Dog, 287
Boundary, Sense of, in

Dogs, 260
Bully's Short Cut, 30

CANARY, Dog and, 150
Canine Friendship, An Act

of, 153

Canine Intelligence, 32
Canine Jealousy, 113
Canine Member of the

S.P.C.A., no
Canine Nurse, A, 147
Canine Sightseer, A, 44
Cat-and-Dog Friendship, 256
Cat-and-Dog Love, 151
Cat's Paw, A Story of a, 233
Cautious Dogs, 61
Character of a Dog, Features

in the, 26

Clever Hunter, A, 320
Collie's Intelligence, A, 303
Collies at Work, 191, 192
Colour-blind? Are Dogs, 213
Commercial Treaty between

Dog and Hen, 19
Communication, Teaching

Dogs a Method of, 74
Communication with Ani-
mals, 77
Conscience - stricken Dog,

A, 103
Conscious Automata, 136

326

INDEX.

Courage of Animals, The,

217

Courtesy, A Dog's, 112
Cow's, A, Jealousy of a Dog,

200

Crib, 314

Cunning Dogs, 170
Curious Friendship, A, 148
Curious Habits of Dogs, 155
Cut, Bully's Short, 30

DECEIVERS, Dog, 173
Dinner, A Dog and his, 163
Dog, A, and a Rabbit, 141
Dog, A, and a Whip, 170
Dog, A, and his Dinner, 163
Dog, A Conscience-stricken,

103

Dog, A Jealous, 115
Dog, A, Obeying a Sum-
mons, 210
Dog, A, on Long Sermons,

!7

Dog, A Parcel-carrying, 47

Dog, A Praying, 305

Dog, A Religious, 304

Dog, A Ruse", 171

Dog, A Sunday, 197

Dog, A, that Scorned to be
Jealous, 116

Dog, A, with Injured Feel-
ings, 283

Dog, An Alpine, 63

Dog and Canary, 150

Dog and Hen, Commercial
Treaty between, 19

Dog and his Master's Grave,
280

Dog and Kittens, 145
Dog and Pigeon, 139
Dog and the Ferry, 33
Dog and the Matches, 311
Dog Consciousness, 228
Dog, Cow's Jealousy of a, 200
Dog Deceivers, 173
Dog, Features in the Cha-
racter of a, 26
Dog Friends, 133, 285
Dog Friendships, 131
Dog, Funeral Offerings by a,

275
Dog, Intelligent Suspicion

in a, 6 1

Dog Nurse, A, 20
Dog Story, A, 230
Dog Story, A, 254
Dog Story, An Australian,

203

Dog, Sympathy in a, 107
Dog, The, and the Hot

Bottle, 263
Dog, The, that Buried the

Frogs, 157
Dog, The, that Heard he did

not Give Satisfaction, 267
Dog's Adventure, A, 307
Dog's Affection, A, 105
Dog's Courtesy, A, 112
Dog's Humanit)', A, 108
Dog's Mind, A Sheep-, 301
Dog's Remorse, A, 101
Dogs and Human Speech,

261

Dogs and Language, 64
Dogs and Looking-glasses,

164

INDEX.

327

Dogs and the Arts, 119
Dogs and their Power to

Feel Emotion, 271
Dogs, Cautious, 61
Dogs, Cunning, 170
Dogs, Curious Habits of,

'55

Dogs, Emotion and Senti-
ment in, 99

Dogs, Emotion of Grief in,

273

Dogs, Guardian, 179
Dogs, Homing Instinct in,

323

Dogs, Hospital, 22
Dogs, Humour and Cunning

in, 165
Dogs, Instinct of Locality

in, 83

Dogs, Music and, 121
Dogs, Power of Imitation in,

167

Dogs, Purchasing, 51
Dogs, Railway, 94
Dogs, Reason of, 37
Dogs, Reasoning Powers of,

49

Dogs, Recognition of Like-
nesses by, 124

Dogs, Sense of Boundary in,
260

Dogs, Sense of Humour in,
168, 169

Dogs, Sentiment and Emo-
tion in, 99

Dogs, Syllogistic, 14

Dogs, Teaching a Method
of Communication to, 74

Dogs, The, that Showed
where the Kitten was
Hidden, 265

Dogs, Two Anecdotes of, 206

Dogs, Useful, 177

Duchess, How Wrinkle
Mourned for, 277

EMOTION and Sentiment in

Dogs, 99
Emotion, Dogs and their

Power to Feel, 271
Emotion of Grief in Dogs,

273
Explanation, An, 159

FEATURES in the Character

of a Dog, 26
Ferry, Dog and the, 33
Foreknowledge of Death ?

Have Animals a, 221
Four-footed Friends, Our,

224

Friends, Dog, 133, 285
Friendship, A Cat-and-Dog,

256

Friendship, A Curious, 148
Friendship, An Act of

Canine, 153
Friendships, Dog, 131
Friendships of Dogs with

other Animals, 135
Frogs, The Dog that Buried

the, 157
Funeral Offerings by a Dog,

375

GRAVE, Dog and his Master's,
280

328

"Greyfriars' Bobby," 281
Grief, Emotion of, in Dogs,

273
Guardian Dogs, 179

HABITS of Dogs, Curious,

155

Have Animals a Foreknow-
ledge of Death ? 221

Hen and Puppies, 137

Hen, Commercial Treaty be-
tween Dog and a, 19

Homing Instinct in Dogs,

323

Hospital Dogs, 22
Humanity, A Dog's, 108
Humour and Cunning in

Dogs, 165
Hunter, A Clever, 320

INJURED Feelings, A Dog
with, 283

Instinct, Maternal, in Ani-
mals, 219

Instinct of Locality in Dogs,

»3

Instinct, or Reason ? 21
Intelligence, A Collie's, 303
Intelligence, A Pug's, 211
Intelligence, Animal, 68
Intelligence, Canine, 32
Intelligent Suspicion in a

Dog, 61

JEALOUS Dog, A, 115
Jealous, Dog that Scorned to

be, 116
Jealousy, Canine, 113

INDEX.

Joe and the Tennis Tourna-

ment, 269
KITTENS, Dog and, 145

LANGUAGE, Animals and, 72
Language, Dogs and, 64
Likenesses, Recognition of,

by Dogs, 124
Locality in Dogs, Instinct

of, 83
Looking-glasses, Dogs and,

164

Love, Cat and Dog, 151
Lucky and Unlucky, 214

MATCHES, Dog and the, 311

Maternal Instinct in Ani-
mals, 219

Meaning, How Conveyed to
Animals, 65

Method of Communication,
Teaching Dogs a, 74

Mind, A Sheep Dog's, 301

Music and Dogs, 121

NURSE, A Canine, 147
Nurse, A Dog, 20

OUR Four-footed Friends,
224

PARCEL-CARRYING DOG, A,

47
Pictures, Recognition by

Animals of, 129
Pigeon, Dog and, 139
Pigeon Story, 144

INDEX.

329

Plan, Thinking out a, 45
Power of Imitation in Dogs,

167
Powers, Reasoning, of Dogs,

49

Praying Dog, A, 305
Pug's Intelligence, A, 211
Puppies, Hen and, 137
Purchasing Dogs, 51

Rabbit, A Dog and a, 141
Railway Dogs, 94, 287
Reason, Instinct or, 21
Reason of Dogs, 37
Reasoning Powers of Dogs,

49

Recognition by Animals of

Pictures, 129
Recognition of Likenesses;

by Dogs, 124
Religious Dog, A, 304
Remorse, A Dog's, 101

SATISFACTION, The Dog that
Heard he did not Give, 267

Sense of Humour in Dogs,
168, 169

Short Cut, Bully's, 30

Sight-seer, A Canine, 44
S.P.C.A., A Canine Member

of the, no

Sprig, Biography of, 237
Summons, A Dog Obeying

a, 210

Sunday Dog, A, 197
Suspicion, Intelligent, in a

Dog, 61

Syllogistic Dogs, 14
Sympathy in a Dog, 107

TEACHING Dogs a Method
of Communication, 74

Tennis Tournament, Joe and
the, 269

Thinking out a Plan, 45

Treaty,Commercial,between
Dog and Hen, 19

True Watch-dog, A, 188

UNLUCKY, Lucky and, 214
Useful Dogs, 177

WATCH-DOG, A True, 188
Whip, A Dog and a, 170
Wrinkle, How, Mourned for
Duchess, 277

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