head pushed forward in a position which from a dog's point of view
represents solid comfort.

Though asleep he is still on guard; the painter has conveyed the
impression of the dog's latent power, even in repose. Like Rab, in Dr.
John Brown's famous story, he is "a sort of compressed Hercules of a
dog." As he lies at his ease, we note the characteristics of his
kind,--the loose skin, the long soft ears, the long thick tail. Of his
most striking quality there is no visible evidence, namely, his
exquisite sense of smell. It is this which has made him so valuable to
man, both as a companion of his sports and a protector of life and
property.

In former times when the resources of government were limited,
bloodhounds often served in the useful capacity of a detective force.
In the border country between England and Scotland, before the union
of the kingdoms, these dogs were kept to maintain safety, and to track
criminals. In Cuba they were put on the pursuit of outlaws and
fugitives from justice. This explains why the dog has sometimes been
called a sleuthhound; that is, a dog set upon a _sleuth_, or trail.

In our own Southern States bloodhounds were once used to recover
runaway slaves, as we may read in "Uncle Tom's Cabin." There have been
times, too, when the dog's unique gift of scent has enabled him to
find lost children and exhausted travellers, and thus be a benefactor
to humanity.

Whatever the task set him, whether for good or ignoble ends, the
bloodhound has always fulfilled it with unflagging perseverance and
devotion. He is a dog to command both fear and admiration, and we
count ourselves fortunate if we win his good opinion.

[Illustration: Fr. Hanfstaengl, photo. John Andrew & Son, Sc.
THE SLEEPING BLOODHOUND
_National Gallery, London_]

The original of the portrait was Countess, the bloodhound of Mr. Jacob
Bell, of whom we have also heard as the owner of the bay mare Betty.
The dog had long been waiting for a portrait sitting, but the busy
painter seemed to have no time for the work. Finally occurred a
strange accident which was the immediate cause of the picture. Poor
Countess fell one night from a parapet at Mr. Bell's residence, in
some unknown way losing her balance, or missing her footing. The
distance was between twenty and thirty feet, and the dog was killed.
Mr. Bell immediately took the animal to Landseer's studio, and there
in an incredibly short time was produced this portrait.