ndow or basking in a London balcony.

The Comforter, of which a portrait is given at the head of the present
chapter, is a rare and beautiful little dog, apparently a cross
between the Maltese and King Charles spaniel. His colour is generally
white, with black or brown patches; his ears are long, and his head
broad on the upper part, with an acute muzzle; the hair is long over
the whole body, with the fore legs feathered; his tail is curled, and
feathered with very long hairs. This is the smallest of any of the
distinct races of dogs, and is frequently not above a foot from the
tip of the nose to the point of the tail.

[Illustration: "A PUGNACIOUS PAIR."]

THE TURNSPIT.

How well do I recollect, in the days of my youth, watching the
operations of a turnspit at the house of a worthy old Welsh clergyman
in Worcestershire, who taught me to read. He was a good man, wore a
bushy wig, black worsted stockings, and large plated buckles in his
shoes. As he had several boarders, as well as day-scholars, his two
turnspits had plenty to do. They were long-bodied, crooked-legged, and
ugly dogs, with a suspicious, unhappy look about them, as if they were
weary of the task they had to do, and expected every moment to be
seized upon to perform it. Cooks in those days, as they are said to be
at present, were very cross, and if the poor animal, wearied with
having a larger joint than usual to turn, stopped for a moment, the
voice of the cook might be heard rating him in no very gentle terms.
When we consider that a large solid piece of beef would take at least
three hours before it was properly roasted, we may form some idea of
the task a dog had to perform in turning a wheel during that time. A
pointer has pleasure in finding game, the terrier worries rats with
considerable glee, the greyhound pursues hares with eagerness and
delight, and the bull-dog even attacks bulls with the greatest energy,
while the poor turnspit performs his task by compulsion, like a
culprit on a tread-wheel, subject to scolding or beating if he stops a
moment to rest his weary limbs, and is then kicked about the kitchen
when the task is over. There is a story (it is an old one) of the Bath
turnspits, who were in the habit of collecting together in the abbey
church of that town during divine service. It is said, but I will not
vouch for the truth of the story, that hearing one day the word
"spit," which occurred in the lesson for the day, they all r