CHAPTER XI.

THE POODLE, THE BARBET, AND THE CUR.

Shaggy and lean and shrewd, with pointed ears,
And tail cropped short, half lurcher and half cur,
His dog attends him.

COWPER.

HESE three dogs shall not

detain my young readers very

long. They are neither of them very valuable, but they are very intelligent. Perhaps the Cur, the poorest-looking of the three, is the most sagacious. The Poodle is a spaniel with long, curly white

hair, which it is much the fashion to cut off except about the head, the feet, and the tip of the tail, giving it somewhat the appearance of those funny-looking figures we see in the

Nineveh sculptures. This dog is remarkably docile, and has been taught a number of curious tricks, such as finding particular cards from a pack, standing on its hind legs, or its fore feet, head downwards; to ring a bell, open a door, go through the semblance of dying, and so on. Perhaps you recollect the story of Sancho, a Poodle, that was with difficulty forced from the grave of its master after the battle of Salamanca. Enticed from his post he could not be, nor was he at length taken away till much weakened by grief and starvation. He by degrees attached himself to his new master, the Marquis of Worcester, but not with the natural ardour of a Poodle. He was attentive to every command, and could perform many little domestic offices. Sometimes he would exhibit considerable buoyancy of spirit; but there oftener seemed to be about him the recollection of older and closer friendship.

He

Another dog of this kind occupies an interesting place in the history of the Peninsular war. belonged to a French officer, who was killed at the battle of Castella. The French were compelled to retreat before they could bury their dead, and the soldiers wished to carry with them this regimental favourite; but he would not be forced from the corpse of his master. Some soldiers afterwards traversing the field of battle, one of them discovered the cross of the Legion of Honour

on the breast of the fallen officer, and stooped to take it away, when the dog flew savagely at him, and would not quit his hold until the bayonet of another soldier laid him lifeless. Poor fellow ! obtained from a cross-breed with the Poodle and some other kind of Spaniel. It has all the sagacity of the Poodle, and will perform even more than his tricks. It is always in action; always fidgetty; generally incapable of much affection, but inheriting much selflove and occasional ill temper; unmanageable by any one but its owner; eaten up with red mange; and frequently a nuisance to its master and a torment to every one else. I recollect a story of a dog of this kind, which I will tell you. In a convent in France it was the custom to give a dinner to twenty poor people daily. The portions were served to each individual on his ringing a bell in a "tour," or turning machine, which did not show the person who moved it. A dog who was in the habit of following the paupers to their dinner, but who only received scraps, and sometimes nothing at all, had observed the mode by which they obtained their food; and one day, after they had all retired, he took the rope in his mouth and rang the bell; a portion appeared as usual; and, as he found the scheme succeed, he repeated the manœuvre the next day. The cook, finding one applicant more than the number allowed, lay in

The BARBET is a small Poodle,

I

wait and discovered the trick of the dog. The matter was represented to the committee, who were so pleased with the sagacity of the animal, that he was allowed to receive his dinner every day on ringing the bell for it.

The CUR is a sort of sheep dog, that has obtained for himself a bad name by his continual barking and snapping; but he is a faithful fellow nevertheless, and will watch his master's property very carefully. He has, however, a bad habit of snapping at the legs of horses and strange dogs, and is indeed an enemy to the tenants of the farmyard. He is often used to guard sheep, and is by no means an unfaithful servant. I recollect an anecdote of one of these dogs that was told me by the late Mr. Samuel Rogers. "Sitting round a fire in a farmhouse one evening," said the narrator, "my friends and myself noticed the ease with which a Cur laid himself on the rug in front of it half asleep. You shall see,' said the farmer, 'how soon I will wake him. Dash! the cow is in the corn!' Up jumped the dog, and in another instant he was out of the room and into the field. Presently he returned and laid himself down again. The cow is in the corn!' repeated his master, and again the dog started up and ran out, but soon came back and settled himself for another nap. A third time the experiment was tried, but this time the dog, as if he knew he was only being

played with, raised his head, lazily winked his eyes, and turned over on his back, as if determined to be no longer deceived."

There is one other dog of this kind called the Lurcher, that is used by poachers to catch game. He does credit to his bad education. He is, however, a very faithful animal. I once had an old dog of this kind, who went with me half over England.