he 194th Olympiad, 753 years after the building of Rome, and
622 years before the Mahometan hegira. These three figures will serve
us as flambeaux to all the dates of both ancient and modern history."

The discourse was here interrupted by Toby, who entered the room, and
was gleefully frisking and bounding round Mary.

"Really," observed Mrs. Becker, "Toby does seem to know that this is
New Year's Day, he looks so lively and so smart."

The animal, in point of fact, wore a new collar, and seemed conscious
that he was more than usually attractive that particular morning. At a
sign from Mary, the intelligent brute went and wagged his tail to
Fritz. Hereupon the young man, observing the collar more closely,
noticed the following words embroidered upon it: _I belong now
entirely to Master Fritz, who rescued my mistress from the sea_.

"Ah, Miss Wolston," said Fritz, "you forget I only did my duty; you
must not allow your gratitude to over-estimate the service I rendered
you."

"Well, I declare," cried Mrs. Wolston, laughing "here is another
animal that speaks."

"The age of Aesop revived," suggested Mrs. Becker.

"What do you say, Master Jack?" inquired Mrs. Wolston. "Do you suppose
that Toby has learned embroidery in the same way that the parrot
learned grammar?"

"Oh, more astonishing things than that have happened! Mr. Wolston
there will tell you that he has seen a wooden figure playing at chess;
why, therefore, should the most sagacious of all the brutes not learn
knitting?"

"I fear, in speaking so highly of the dog," replied Mrs. Wolston, "you
are doing injustice to other animals. Marvellous instances of
sagacity, gratitude, and affection, have been shown by other brutes
beside the dog. A horse of Caligula's was elevated to the dignified
office of consul."

"Yes, and talking of the affection of animals," observed Ernest, "puts
me in mind of an anecdote related by Aulus Gellius. It seems that a
little boy, the son of a fisher man, who had to go from Baiae to his
school at Puzzoli, used to stop at the same hour each day on the brink
of the Lucrine lake. Here he often threw a bit of his breakfast to a
Dolphin that he called Simon, and if the creature was not waiting for
him when he arrived, he had only to pronounce this name, and it
instantly appeared."

"Nothing very wonderful in that," said Jack; "the common gudgeon,
which is the stupidest fish to be found in fresh water, would do that
much."

"Yes; bu