22 JANUARY 1898, Page 17

THE SENSE OF DIRECTION.

[To THE EDITOR OF THE " BrEcrkros."]

SIR,—Like Mr. Winter's horse in Manitoba, mine has repeatedly brought me home safely when I had utterly lost myself in the dense fog upon the Welsh mountains. When there was no hope of finding my way, I always gave him his head; then, after invariably walking slowly round three times in a circle, he made straight for the mountain gate, which he never missed, although sometimes in the gathering darkness he could not even see it.—I am, Sir, &c., W. FOTHERGILL.