very sure that the dog had once more gone back to collect the sheep. By
a circuitous route which he had never followed before, going in at least
one instance through a gate, which he securely fastened behind him, the
shepherd at length reached a farm-house, where, as it chanced, both his
sister and his sweetheart were in service. Here he breakfasted, and
remained some time, and still there was no sign of the dog. All was no
doubt well; after all, the beast must have somehow missed him in the
night and had gone home; after the punishment he had received he would
never have gone back again for the sheep. So, comparatively light of
heart, the shepherd was just about to start on his journey, when up
there came to him a man:

"Ye'll hae missed your dowg, I'm thinking? But ye needna' fash; he's
waitin' for ye doon by the Crooked Yett, wi' a' your yowes safe enough."

It was useless after this. The wretched man gave in; he struggled no
more, but actually went off with the sheep and sold them. And the
gallows ended his career. But how the dog followed him is a mystery, and
why he waited for him at the "Crooked Yett." For miles he must have
tracked him by the scent of the feet of the pony the shepherd rode. But
he never came within sight of the farm-house, and how did he know to
wait at the gate?

Instances of depravity amongst animals are not altogether unknown,
though they are rare. A case is mentioned in _Blackwood's Magazine_ of
October 1817, where a lady walking along a London street had her bag
snatched from her by a drover's dog. The animal, apparently without any
master, was noticed lying, seemingly asleep, by the pavement-side, but
on the approach of the lady it sprang suddenly up, snatched from her
hand what is described as her "ridicule," and made off at full gallop.
On inquiry it was ascertained that the dog was well known as a thief,
and that his habit was to lie in the street, apparently taking no notice
of passers-by until a lady with a bag, or some poor woman carrying a
bundle, came by, when he would jump up, snatch the bag or bundle from
its bearer's hand, and make off, no doubt to join a master who waited in
security whilst his dog stole for him. On the special occasion here
mentioned the lady lost with her bag one sovereign, eighteen shillings
in silver, a pair of spectacles, and various papers and small articles.

There is also on record the case of a good-looking spaniel which was
bought in London from a