A DOG-STORY.
[To TRB EDITOR OP THE " EPECTATOR."1 SIR,—May I send you another dog-story? My dog, a half- retriever, half-setter, has been with me for six years since I rescued him as a puppy with a can on his tail. He has fol- lowed me constantly, and though always very friendly with everybody, has been devoted to me both indoors and out. Lately a change has come over him; he would come into my room when called, but would take the first opportunity to go. out. He seemed to be drill, to have lost his old joyousness• in our companionship. Last fall my children went to England, and I thought he missed them. He would leave my room to lie under the kitchen-table, and would follow the hired boy about the place, so I told the kousekeeper to keep him out of the kitchen, and the boy to take no notice of Min. It made no difference. Forbidden the kitchen, he would leave my room and lie in the hall. He had always been accus- tomed to follow me almost everywhere, whether riding or driving ; but this year, thinking the journey to town (sixteen miles) and back too much for him, I had left him at the ranch when going to town. Last Saturday I was driving to town, the dog started to follow, and as the boy was going to send him back, I said, "Oh ! never mind ; let him come," and he came with ns. Now the whole mystery is explained. On our return, the dog quite resumed his old habits. The change was extraordinary. He
comes into my room and stays there as a matter of course; he greets me every morning on coming downstairs ; he jumps round in the old joyous fashion when I go ont,—in fact, is himself again. Evidently the trip to town was one of his most cherished privileges, and he took his own way to show that he had no use for a master who deprived him of it.—I am, Sir, &c.,
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