hat the force of imagination influences some brutes
cannot be doubted. A gentleman had a small spaniel which had one of
her legs broken when pregnant. When she littered, one of the whelps
had one of her hind legs broken--the limb was contracted--a perfect
callus formed, in everything resembling the leg of the dam.

Setters are difficult to break; but when well broken are invaluable as
sporting dogs, for they will work all day if they can occasionally
find water. John Dudley, duke of Northumberland, is said to have been
the first that broke a setter dog to the net, about the year 1555.

Col. Hutchinson says that a French lady, who is fond of animals, at
his request committed the following anecdote to paper:--

"My dear Medor, a beautiful red-and-white setter, was remarkable, I am
told, for many rare qualities as a sporting dog; but, of course, none
of these could be compared, in _my_ eyes, to his faithfulness and
sagacity. I looked upon him as a friend; and I know that our affection
was mutual. I could mention several instances of his intelligence--I
might say, reflection; but one in particular gave me such delight
that, though years have since passed away, all the circumstances are
as fresh in my memory as if they had occurred but yesterday. I was
returning from school at Versailles; and having rang uselessly for a
little time at the front door, I went round to the carriage-gate to
have a chat with my silky-haired favourite. He barked anxiously,
thrust his cold nose through an opening near the ground, scratched
vigorously to increase its size, and in numerous ways testified great
joy at again hearing my voice. I put my hand under the gate to caress
him; and while he was licking it, I said in jest, but in a distinct,
loud voice, 'Dear Medor, I am shut out--go, bring me the keys.' It so
happened that the stable where they usually hung was not closed. Medor
ran off, and in a few seconds returned and placed them in my hands. I
will not attempt to describe _my_ gratification at such a striking
proof of his intelligence, nor _his_ evident pride at seeing me enter
the hall, nor yet the fright of the servant at thinking how long the
street-door must have been carelessly left open. 'Medor deserves that
his life should be written,' said I to my uncle, when afterwards
telling him the whole story; 'I am sure his deeds are as wonderful as
those related of the 'Chiens celebres' by De Freville.'

"My setter was immediately declared