avour conferred, 480.
[Illustration: SPANIEL AND NEWFOUNDLAND DOGS.]
A French writer has boldly affirmed, that with the exception of women
there is nothing on earth so agreeable, or so necessary to the comfort
of man, as the dog. This assertion may readily be disputed, but still
it will be allowed that man, deprived of the companionship and
services of the dog, would be a solitary and, in many respects, a
helpless being. Let us look at the shepherd, as the evening closes in
and his flock is dispersed over the almost inaccessible heights of
mountains; they are speedily collected by his indefatigable dog--nor
do his services end here: he guards either the flock or his master's
cottage by night, and a slight caress, and the coarsest food, satisfy
him for all his trouble. The dog performs the services of a horse in
the more northern regions; while in Cuba and some other hot countries,
he has been the scourge and terror of the runaway negroes. In the
destruction of wild beasts, or the less dangerous stag, or in
attacking the bull, the dog has proved himself to possess pre-eminent
courage. In many instances he has died in the defence of his master.
He has saved him from drowning, warned him of approaching danger,
served him faithfully in poverty and distress, and if deprived of
sight has gently led him about. When spoken to, he tries to hold
conversation with him by the movement of his tail or the expression of
his eyes. If his master wants amusement in the field or wood, he is
delighted to have an opportunity of procuring it for him; if he finds
himself in solitude, his dog will be a cheerful and agreeable
companion, and maybe, when death comes, the last to forsake the grave
of his beloved master.
There are a thousand little facts connected with dogs, which many, who
do not love them as much as I do, may not have observed, but which
all tend to develope their character. For instance, every one knows
the fondness of dogs for warmth, and that they never appear more
contented than when reposing on the rug before a good fire. If,
however, I quit the room, my dog leaves his warm berth, and places
himself at the door, where he can the better hear my footsteps, and be
ready to greet me when I re-enter. If I am preparing to take a walk,
my dog is instantly aware of my intention. He frisks and jumps about,
and is all eagerness to accompany me. If I am thoughtful or
melancholy, he appears to sympathise with me; and, on t
|