HISTORY OF THREE DOGS.-PART III.

ROVER came back from his training a very clever dog indeed. He had been sent to a circus man, who, besides his ordinary education, taught him to sit on a chair, to smoke a pipe, and to make believe he was dead. Not that I think Rover much cared for these accomplishments, but he went through them as a matter of business, just to please the children. They excited so much admiration, and he had to go through his performance so often, that I, who had never been taught anything, got rather jealous and annoyed.

Hence there arose a slight coolness between Rover and me; for during his absence I had be

come a huge favourite, in every sense, with the family, and was really very fond of them all, for they allowed me the run of the house, even in the drawing-room; and for no mischief that I did accidentally was I ever punished, only for what my mistress called "moral delinquencies," of which, she said, Rover was never guilty at all. In fact he was so good that I got quite vexed with him, and determined to take the very first opportunity of showing it.

Now Rover-like most dogs-has his fancies and crotchets. One of them is, he cannot bear anybody to see him eating his dinner. He likes to enjoy it in a quiet and gentlemanly way, by himself in the pantry; and in that his mistress always indulges him.

One day I took it into my head that it was a great shame for Rover to be such a favourite, and always to have his dinner alone, and first; so when the children were standing around, watching him, I pushed in at the pantry door, and made a bound forward as if I meant to snatch a piece out of his plate. Quiet-tempered dog as he is, Rover would not stand that; he flew at me, and we had an awful fight, for my blood was up too. I had been nursing my wrath for a long time, and now I was determined to have it out. We rolled over and

other till the blood

over, and bit and tore at each was streaming from both of us. The children ran screaming away to tell their father, who walked in at the pantry door, and walked out again. Then

in came my mistress, breathless with running and as white as a sheet.

How she managed to part us I don't knownor probably does she; but somehow she did manage it—contrived to shut one inside the pantry, and the other outside, then went into the parlour, and had "a quiet comfortable faint," as I heard her say, whatever that might be. I only know as Rover told me afterwards-that he thought she was dead, and went and licked her hand, and was so ashamed of himself, and so sorry.

He and I have not fought again-we agreed that it was "silly;" but I fancy we have never been quite such good friends since.

After this we were separated for several weeks, Rover being left behind, while I was taken to Edinburgh with the family-not as a treat, but as a punishment; for my mistress said "she could not trust the two dogs at home together." And a very heavy punishment it turned out to be. So that I never hear people speak of Edinburgh as a nice place without thinking, "For men perhaps -not for dogs."

I had tried stealing once or twice for amusement; now I myself was stolen, and I found it no joke at all. They must be very clever people, the Scotch, for during the next six weeks I spent in Scotland I was stolen no less than three times, big and sensible dog as I was! But what safeguard is size, or strength, or even sense, when just as one is trotting down a street at night, to see a

little of the world on one's own account, a fellow comes behind one, claps a muzzle on one's nose, jerks one by the heels into a cab, and drives away? Or, as the second time, one sees something nice wrapped up in a handkerchief, and goes up and takes a sniff at it, and the handkerchief has a queer smell about it, and suddenly one goes to sleep and forgets everything, and then the wretches do exactly what they choose.

This was what befell me twice. But each time, being a dog of determination, I contrived to get away and slip home before it was discovered that I was absent. The third time, however, my enemies were too much for me.

I

It happened thus-but no! the story is too horrible to tell. Excuse me. I had much rather forget it. Even now I sometimes dream it all over again on our warm cosy hearthrug, and start up with a howl, thinking I am once again in the hands of those cruel men, and they are forcing my collar off, locked as it was. No, I won't describe it, for it would wring my mistress to the heart. have often heard her tell the story of what a miserable three days she spent, searching for me everywhere, and how the third day she had to go to an evening party, and dressed herself-with her own tears, as well as Miss Connie's, who had cried all day too, dropping on her pretty gown. And how, when she came home, having told everybody the story of her loss, and received no comfort, Edinburgh being the worst place in the world

for dog-stealing-lo and behold she found me lying, all wounded and bleeding and exhausted, in front of her bedroom fire.

I draw a veil over that scene. No dog of sensibility could possibly describe it.

That I had been stolen, she had no doubt; for my collar with her name on it was gone, and I was badly hurt besides; she nursed me tenderly for several days, and afterwards she never again let me walk in Edinburgh streets alone. Consequently my life was rather dull, and I was very glad to get back home-to our beautiful house among the moors, where we could run about as we liked, and nothing dreadful ever happened.

WRITE FROM DICTATION:

1. We gradually mounted up to higher and higher ground; and then we all at once came out on the open down, covered with patches of furze and purple heath, and stopped for a moment to turn our faces to the breeze, and drink in the glorious fresh air that seemed to penetrate to every dusty corner of our lungs, and fill us with new life.

2. Still, on we went, across the smooth short grass of the chalky down, watching narrowly every cluster of flowers and bunch of thistles, every patch of thyme and bush of hazel and hawthorn, that fringed the edge of the common, and cut us off from the gritty road.