with the
females, hitting below the belt.

So howandever, as I was saying, the old dog seeing the tin was empty
starts mousing around by Joe and me. I'd train him by kindness, so I
would, if he was my dog. Give him a rousing fine kick now and again
where it wouldn't blind him.

--Afraid he'll bite you? says the citizen, jeering.

--No, says I. But he might take my leg for a lamppost.

So he calls the old dog over.

--What's on you, Garry? says he.

Then he starts hauling and mauling and talking to him in Irish and the
old towser growling, letting on to answer, like a duet in the opera.
Such growling you never heard as they let off between them. Someone that
has nothing better to do ought to write a letter _pro bono publico_ to
the papers about the muzzling order for a dog the like of that. Growling
and grousing and his eye all bloodshot from the drouth is in it and the
hydrophobia dropping out of his jaws.

All those who are interested in the spread of human culture among the
lower animals (and their name is legion) should make a point of not
missing the really marvellous exhibition of cynanthropy given by the
famous old Irish red setter wolfdog formerly known by the _sobriquet_ of
Garryowen and recently rechristened by his large circle of friends and
acquaintances Owen Garry. The exhibition, which is the result of years
of training by kindness and a carefully thoughtout dietary system,
comprises, among other achievements, the recitation of verse. Our
greatest living phonetic expert (wild horses shall not drag it from us!)
has left no stone unturned in his efforts to delucidate and compare
the verse recited and has found it bears a _striking_ resemblance (the
italics are ours) to the ranns of ancient Celtic bards. We are not
speaking so much of those delightful lovesongs with which the writer who
conceals his identity under the graceful pseudonym of the Little
Sweet Branch has familiarised the bookloving world but rather (as
a contributor D. O. C. points out in an interesting communication
published by an evening contemporary) of the harsher and more personal
note which is found in the satirical effusions of the famous Raftery and
of Donal MacConsidine to say nothing of a more modern lyrist at present
very much in the public eye. We subjoin a specimen which has been
rendered into English by an eminent scholar whose name for the moment we
are not at liberty to disclose though we believe that our readers will
fin