lborough was also a
lover of spaniels, and imported into England the variety called, from
his palace, the Blenheim. The difference of color between the King
Charles and the Blenheim is seen in the picture, the former being
black and tan, with a few white touches; the other white, with spots
of liver color. Both have characteristic silky coats, round heads, big
lustrous eyes set wide apart, and long ears hanging in folds.

[Illustration: Fr. Hanfstaengl, photo. John Andrew & Son, Sc.
KING CHARLES SPANIELS
_National Gallery, London_]

The little dogs lie side by side on a table. The Blenheim has his paws
over the edge, resting his nose comfortably upon them. The King
Charles nestles upon the brim of a high-crowned hat ornamented with a
long ostrich plume drooping over the brim. Such a hat was worn among
the Cavaliers or king's party in the reign of Charles I.; hence the
title of the Cavalier's Pets,[2] often given to the picture. The hat,
it must be understood, serves an important artistic purpose in the
composition, the height, from crown to feather tip, relieving the
otherwise flat effect of the picture.

[Footnote 2: The idea suggested in this title is made the basis of an
imaginary story woven about the picture in Sarah Tytler's little book,
_Landseer's Dogs and their Stories_.]

The attention of the dogs seems attracted by some object across the
room. It is the painter talking to them soothingly over his sketch: he
has learned the secret of dog language. As his pencil moves rapidly
over the paper, they watch him with wide eyes, full of wonder but with
no fear. They are like spoiled children gazing at a visitor with an
expression half wilful, half beseeching. The fresh ribbon bows they
wear are evidence of the fond care bestowed upon them.

Though the spaniel is not of the highest order of canine intelligence,
it is an affectionate and lovable pet often known to fame in
distinguished company. Tradition has it that it was one of these
little creatures which followed the unfortunate Mary Stuart to the
executioner's block--

"The little dog that licked her hand, the last of all the crowd
Which sunned themselves beneath her glance and round her footsteps
bowed."

It is also supposed that Sir Isaac Newton's little dog Diamond was a
spaniel, the mischief-maker who destroyed his master's priceless
calculations, and drew from the philosopher the mild exclamation,
"Diamond, Diamond, thou little kn