dogs accompanying their masters in the dangers of battle and guarding their beloved remains when they fell.

After the battle of Talavera, General Graham, afterwards Lord Lynedoch, was told of a dog which lay on the grave of a Spanish officer and refused food. He desired the dog to be brought to his quarters, but the servant returned without him, and said the dog would not allow him to come near. General Graham then ordered him to take as many soldiers as were necessary to secure and bring him away. After a time, the dog was sent to Scotland, to his friend Graham of Fintry (the injudicious patron of Burns), by one of whose family he was given to the father of my informant, who resided in Edinburgh. At that house he remained some years the delight of all. He was a large poodle, marked with brown, and had had part of one of his ears shot off in battle. In those days the guns from the Castle announced many victories, and when they were fired Muchuch got into a state of great excitement; the house-door was opened, and he ran direct to the Castle and straight to the battery among the men. After a while he was regularly expected on such occasions, and welcomed and made much of by the soldiers. Frequently he walked out with the governess and young ladies: one morning, in the King's Park, he was seized with asthma, a soldier kindly assisted them to carry him to a stream of water and then to Holyrood. Having heard his history he asked leave to acquaint the guard at the Palace the soldiers turned out and paid all respect to the old hero.

His friends had reluctantly to part with him, finding that he had become jealous of the youngest member of the

family, who was a great favourite, and it being feared he might do her some serious injury. Muchuch ended his days peacefully, at Fintry, acting turkey-herd-driving his charge afield in the morning, and bringing the flock home every evening.

American statements do not gain implicit credence, but there may be truth in the story below:

"A FAITHFUL DOG.-The widow of Lieut. Pfieff, of Illinois, was enabled to find her husband's grave at Pittsburgh Landing by seeing a dog which had accompanied the Lieutenant to the war. The dog approached her with the most intense manifestations of joy, and immediately indicated to her as well as he was able, his desire that she should follow him. She did so, and he led the way to a distant part of the field, and stopped before a single grave. She caused it to be opened, and there found the body of her dead husband. It appears, from the statement of some of the soldiers, that when Lieut. Pfieff fell, his dog was by his side, and thus remained, licking his wounds, until he was taken from the field and buried. The dog then took his station by the grave, and nothing could induce him to abandon it but for a sufficient length of time each day to satisfy his hunger, until by some means he was made aware of the presence of his mistress. Thus had he watched for twelve days by the grave of his slain master."

American Paper.

Here is an original anecdote of a dog bringing help. It is

given nearly as received from the narrator :

"About the dog. It occurred when Charles lived at home at Stoke; we have been married twenty-five years, so you can guess at the date. It was a most faithful, favourite, black curly-coated Retriever, white down the throat, named Diver, which always accompanied him in his walks and rides. One day Charles was riding his pony, being very poorly at the time, and from weakness fell, when the dear old dog caught the pony by the bridle and held it quite still until he found his master could release his foot from the stirrup, and was sufficiently recovered to return home again. No one was within hearing, so in all probability if he had not been watched by his faithful attendant the pony would have galloped on, dragging the master with his foot caught in the stirrup, and a serious accident must have ensued.

"Charles was recovering from a long and painful illness, and was subject to fainting fits. On two occasions he fell down when out walking, and the dog stood over him and barked till some one came. Of course in such a weak state he did not go far from home."

In Sir Walter Scott's Diary occurs this anecdote of preservation of life by a dog1::

"24th November, 1825.-Lord R. Kerr told us he had a letter from Lord Forbes (son of Earl Granard, Ireland), that he was asleep in his house at Castle Forbes, when awakened by a sense of suffocation, which deprived him of the power of stirring a limb, yet left him the consciousness that the

1 Lockhart's Life of Sir Walter Scott.

house was on fire. At this moment, and while his apartment was in flames, his large dog jumped on the bed, seized his shirt, and dragged him to the staircase, where the fresh air restored his powers of existence and of escape. This is very different from most cases of preservation of life by the canine race, when the animal generally jumps into the water, in which element he has force and skill. That of fire is as hostile to him as to mankind."

In Somer's Tracts, containing 'The Actions of the Lowe Countries,' written by the veteran Sir Roger Williams, Knight, it is narrated how Julian Romero, under the Duke of Alva, in 1572, made a night-attack on the camp of the Prince of Orange :

"Julian seconded with all resolution, in such sort, that hee forced all the guards that he found in his way into the place of armes before the prince's tent. Here he entered divers tents; amongst the rest his men killed two of the prince's secretaries hard by the prince's tent, and the prince himselfe escaped very narrowly.

"For I heard the prince say often, that he thought, but for a dog he had been taken. The camisado was given with such resolution, that the place of armes tooke no alarme, until their fellowes were running in with the enemies in their tailes; whereupon this dogge hearing a great noyse, fell to scratching and crying, and withall leapt on the prince's face, awaking him being asleepe, before any of his men. And albeit the prince lay in his armes, with a lackey alwaies holding one of his horses ready bridled, yet at the going out of his tent, with much adoe hee recovered his horse before

the enemie arrived.

Neverthelesse one of his quiries was

slain taking horse presently after him, and divers of his servants were forced to escape amongst the guardes of foote, which could not recover their horses; for troth, ever since, untill the prince's dying day, he kept one of that dog's race; so did many of his friends and followers. The most or all of these dogs were white little hounds, with crooked noses, called camuses."

Motley, in his 'Rise of the Dutch Republic,' quotes Hoofd and Strada for this, and says:

"But for the little dog's watchfulness, William of Orange, upon whose shoulders the whole weight of his country's fortunes depended, would have been led within a week to an ignominious death. To his dying-day, the Prince ever afterwards kept a spaniel of the same race in his bed-chamber. In the statues of the Prince, a little dog is frequently sculptured at his feet."

The important and unselfish services of this generous animal are not always returned with the sense of gratitude shown by this great Prince. He does not confine his aid to man or his own kind, as this example from the old series of the 'Sporting Magazine,' Vol. 79, demonstrates most remarkably :

An ill-fated cat fell into the hands of some juvenile ruffians commencing the first stage of cruelty. They alternately stoned their victim, dragged it through a pool of dirty water, beat it and bruised it, and menaced it with drowning. Bipeds passed by unheeding the agonised animal's cries of