e me
acquainted with some circumstance, but never heard anything
intelligible, and I cannot imagine that the organs of speech are
bestowed upon a favoured few; without which the articulation of words
must be impossible.

Volumes might be filled with these anecdotes of dogs, but I will here
conclude my list with the picture given by Mr. St. John of his pets,
portraying a happiness which contrasts strongly with the miserable
condition of many ill-used animals, belonging to hard-hearted masters,
who perform valuable services, and are yet kicked, spurned, or
half-starved.

"Opposite the window of the room I am in at present," says this
gentleman, "are a monkey and five dogs basking in the sun, a
blood-hound, a Skye terrier, a setter, a Russian poodle, and a young
Newfoundland, who is being educated as a retriever. They all live in
great friendship with the monkey, who is now in the most absurd manner
searching the poodle's coat for fleas, lifting up curl by curl, and
examining the roots of the hair. Occasionally, if she thinks that she
has pulled the hair, or lifted one of his legs rather too roughly, she
looks the dog in the face with an inquiring expression to see if he be
angry. The dog, however, seems rather to enjoy the operation, and,
showing no symptoms of displeasure, the monkey continues her search; and
when she sees a flea, catches it in the most active manner, looks at it
for a moment, and then eats it with great relish. Having exhausted the
game on the poodle, she jumps on the back of the blood-hound, and having
looked into her face to see how she will bear it, begins a new search,
but, finding nothing, goes off for a game at romps with the Newfoundland
dog. While the blood-hound, hearing the voice of one of the children, to
whom she has taken a particular fancy, walks off to the nursery. The
setter lies dozing and dreaming of grouse; while the little terrier sits
with ears pricked up, listening to any sounds of dog or man that she
may hear; occasionally she trots off on three legs to look at the back
door of the house, for fear any rat-hunt, or fun of that sort may take
place without her being invited. Why do Highland terriers so often run
on three legs, particularly when bent on any mischief? Is it to keep one
in reserve in case of emergencies? I never had a Highland terrier who
did not hop along constantly on three legs, keeping one of the hind legs
up as if to give it rest."

A proof of the sudden attach