d towards the house. Byron, instantly comprehending what was
wanted, set off, and made his way into the house by the front door,
through which he had never before passed. In the hall was a hatstand
with several walking-sticks in it. Byron, in his eagerness, seized the
first he could reach, and carried it joyfully to his master. It was not
the right one, however. Mr--on this patted him on the head, gave him
back the stick, and again pointed towards the house. The dog,
apparently considering for a few moments what mistake he could have
made, ran home again, and exchanged the stick for the one his master
usually carried. After this, he had the walking-stick given him to
carry, an office of which he seemed very proud.

One day while thus employed, following his master with stately gravity,
he was annoyed during the whole time by a little yelping cur jumping up
at his ears. Byron shook his head, and growled a little from time to
time, but took no further notice, and never offered to lay down the
stick to punish the offender.

On reaching the beach, Mr--threw the stick into the waves for the dog
to bring it out. Then, to the amusement of a crowd of bystanders,
Byron, seizing his troublesome and pertinacious tormentor by the back of
the neck, plunged with him into the foaming water, where he ducked him
well several times, and then allowed him to find his way out as best he
could; while he himself, mindful of his duty, swam onward in search of
the now somewhat distant walking-stick, which he brought to his master's
feet with his usual calm demeanour. The little cur never again troubled
him.

Be not less magnanimous than Byron, when troublesome boys try to annoy
you whilst you are performing your duties; but employ gentle words
instead of duckings to silence them. Drown the yelping curs--bad
thoughts, unamiable tempers, temptations, and such like--which assault
you from within.

THE NEWFOUNDLAND DOG AND THE MARKED SHILLING.

I must now tell you a story which many believe, but which others
consider "too good to be true."

A gentleman who owned a fine Newfoundland dog, of which he was very
proud, was one warm summer's evening riding out with a friend, when he
asserted that his dog would find and bring to him any article he might
leave behind him. Accordingly it was agreed that a shilling should be
marked and placed under a stone, and that after they had proceeded three
or four miles on their road, the dog should