ysterious arrival, and an
involuntary affection, induced his master to transfer him from the
kennel to the drawing-room. From that time York acquired confidence, and
lost his timidity; he first walked out with the nursemaids and children,
and then accompanied his master. The latter went one morning to a rushy
field, to look at some newly born foals; and there York pointed to a
snipe. The bird rose, and pitched some hundred yards away, York's nose
detected him a second time: he crept on a dozen paces, and couched
again. This circumstance betokened his natural perfections; but with his
temperament, the firing a gun might be a dangerous trial. He was taken
day after day to mark the snipes, and praised for his conduct. After
this, his master took his gun and an attendant, with orders to the
latter, if York should attempt to levant or run away, he was to catch
him in his arms. It occurred as he had anticipated; poor York was
dreadfully frightened; every limb quivered, but he was soothed by
caresses, and encouraged to go where the dead snipe was lying. In a
moment he appeared to comprehend the whole. He smelled the snipe,
looked at the gun, then in his master's face, and became bolder when he
there saw approbation. Another point, another shot, and another snipe;
and York and his master returned home; the gun was put in the corner,
and the snipes close by, on the carpet. A dozen times, while his master
was drinking his wine, York stole quietly to the corner, smelled the
snipes, and examined the gun. From that day he gave up walking with the
nursemaids, and became a matchless field dog.

York was never willingly separated from his master, and was very unhappy
at his absence; he soon ascertained, that a carpet bag put into the gig,
was the signal for going away; and one day, he secretly followed, and
only shewed himself when he thought he was at such a distance that he
could not be sent back again. He was taken into the gig, and by this
means escaped a sad death.

While he was away, a mad dog infected the kennel, and nine setters, and
two Skye terriers were obliged to be killed, Black York alone remaining.
"From the moment," says York's master, "I took him from the kennel to
the parlour, he cut all low connections; on the human race his
affections seemed to be concentrated, and on one occasion, he gave a
marked instance of his fidelity and intelligence. His mistress had gone
with her maid to the beach to bathe, and a general pe