ht times at birds the dog had found
him; but having missed them all, the animal returned home, evidently
disgusted. In the evening his owner took him out again and killed
every shot, which procured a reconciliation between the dog and its
master.

The late Dr. Hugh Smith related the following circumstance of a setter
dog, and maintained that a bitch and a dog may fall passionately in
love with each other. As the doctor was travelling from Midhurst into
Hampshire, the dogs, as usual in country places, ran out barking as he
was passing through a village; and amongst them he observed a little
ugly mongrel, that was particularly eager to ingratiate himself with a
setter bitch that accompanied him. Whilst stopping to water his horse,
he remarked how amorous the mongrel continued, and how courteous the
setter seemed to her admirer. Provoked to see a creature of Dido's
high blood so obsequious to such mean addresses, the doctor drew one
of his pistols and shot the dog; he then had the bitch carried on
horseback for several miles. From that day, however, she lost her
appetite, ate little or nothing, had no inclination to go abroad with
her master, or attend to his call, but seemed to repine like a
creature in love, and express sensible concern for the loss of her
gallant. Partridge season came, but Dido had no nose. Some time after
she was coupled to a setter of great excellence, which with no small
difficulty had been procured to get a breed from, and all the caution
which even the doctor himself could take was strictly exerted, that
the whelps might be pure and unmixed; yet not a puppy did Dido bring
forth but what was the picture and colour of the mongrel that he had
so many months before destroyed. The doctor fumed, and, had he not
personally paid such attention to preserve the intercourse
uncontaminated, would have suspected that some negligence had
occasioned this disappointment; but his views were in many subsequent
litters also defeated, for Dido never produced a whelp which was not
exactly similar to the unfortunate dog which was her first and
murdered lover.

This anecdote may appear strange or untrue to some people; but it is
an undoubted fact, and in some degree corroborates Dr. Smith's account
that the late Sir Gore Ouseley had a Persian mare which produced her
first foal by a zebra in Scotland. She was afterwards a brood-mare in
England, and had several foals, every one of which had the zebra's
stripes on it. T