to any other
character Sir Walter Scott has delighted us with, the Dandy Dinmont
breed. These dogs (for we avoid the feminine appellation when we can)
were strongly attached to their excellent master, and he to them. They
were mother and daughter, and each produced a litter of puppies about
the same time. Mr. Morritt was seriously ill at this period, and
confined to his bed. Fond as these dogs were of their puppies, they
had an equal affection for their master, and in order to prove to him
that such was the case, they adopted the following expedient. They
conveyed their two litters of puppies to one place, and while one of
the mothers remained to suckle and take care of them, the other went
into Mr. Morritt's bedroom and continued there from morning until the
evening. When the evening arrived, she went and relieved the other
dog, who then came into the bedroom, and remained quietly all night by
the side of the bed, and this they continued to do day after day in
succession.

This charming anecdote was communicated to me from a quarter which
cannot leave a doubt of its authenticity, and affords an affecting
proof of gratitude and love in animals towards those who have treated
them with kindness, and made them their friends. Such an anecdote as
this should be sufficient to preserve dogs from much of the
ill-treatment they meet with.

I knew a very clever terrier belonging to a friend of mine. His name
was Snap. Now Snap one fine, hot, summer's day, accompanied his
master, who was on horseback, on his way from London to the
neighbourhood of Windsor. The road was very dusty, and, as I have
said, the weather hot, and Snap was very thirsty. No water was met
with until Hounslow had been passed. At last a woman crossed the road
with a bucket of water, which she had drawn from a neighbouring pump.
On arriving at her cottage she placed it outside her door, and left it
there. Snap saw it and lapped up some of the water with evident
satisfaction, his master waiting for him. When he had finished his
lapping, instead of following, he deliberately inserted his
hind-quarters into the bucket--took a good cooling bath--shook himself
in the bucket--jumped out--gave himself another shake, and then
followed his master. If Snap was lost in London, he would go to every
house usually frequented by his master; and if he then could not find
him, would return home. Snap, in fact, was an extraordinary dog.

One night, a gentleman, between fifty