ut feeling any pain. Such dogs are not
easily excited by anything but a chase, and a burglar might come and rob
the house and murder the inmates without arousing any excitement among
them. Guarding a house is "not their pidgin" as the Chinese say. That
is one great reason for the success of the dog at whatever branch of his
tribe's work he goes in for--he is so thorough. Dogs who are forced to
combine half-a-dozen professions never make a success at anything. One
dog one billet is their motto.

The most earnest and thorough of all the dog tribe is the fighting
dog. His intense self-respect, his horror of brawling, his cool
determination, make him a pattern to humanity. The bull-dog or
bull-terrier is generally the most friendly and best-tempered dog in the
world; but when he is put down in the ring he fights till he drops, in
grim silence, though his feet are bitten through and through, his ears
are in rags, and his neck a hideous mass of wounds.

In a well-conducted dog-fight each dog in turn has to attack the other
dog, and one can see fierce earnestness blazing in the eye of the
attacker as he hurls himself on the foe. What makes him fight like
that? It is not bloodthirstiness, because they are neither savage nor
quarrelsome dogs: a bulldog will go all his life without a fight, unless
put into a ring. It is simply their strong self-respect and stubborn
pride which will not let them give in. The greyhound snaps at his
opponent and then runs for his life, but the fighting dog stands to it
till death.

Just occasionally one sees the same type of human being--some
quiet-spoken, good-tempered man who has taken up glove-fighting for a
living, and who, perhaps, gets pitted against a man a shade better than
himself. After a few rounds he knows he is overmatched, but there is
something at the back of his brain that will not let him cave in. Round
after round he stands punishment, and round after round he grimly comes
up, till, possibly, his opponent loses heart, or a fluky hit turns the
scale in his favour. These men are to be found in every class of life.
Many of the gamest of the game are mere gutter-bred boys who will
continue to fight long after they have endured enough punishment to
entitle them to quit.

You can see in their eyes the same hard glitter that shows in the
bulldog's eyes as he limps across the ring, or in the eye of the
racehorse as he lies down to it when his opponent is outpacing him. It
is grit, plu