Juno 19, 1873. ] 



JOURNAL OP HORTICULTURE AXD COTTAGE GARDENER, 



405 



ceptions to this rule. Still I would say, Large dog and large 

 heart go together. Not always the largest animal, but the 

 largest of a variety. A good dog is one that barks, not yaps ; 

 one capable of a sonorous bark, not a creature that can only yap 

 like a cur. The bark, too, must be a good bark, not the jirking 

 snapping sort of bark which indicates irritable temper. This 

 distinction between good and bad dogs is specially to bo marked ; 

 and those who affect to think all dogs good make a mistake, and 

 do harm, for those who do not love dogs confound the yapping 

 little wi-etches with their good brothers, and, pointing to some 

 cantankerous little selfish wretch with four legs and a tail, say, 

 *'I wonder how ever people can make such a fuss about dogs; I 

 think they are horrid animals." You may have many dogs, but 

 only one may come up to the standard ; but if you want a good 

 dog I do not think you will get one if it be a creature but the 

 size of a cat. Remember this rule, Goodness and size go very 

 much together. 



Then, be kind and firm to your dog. Do not treat him as 

 foolish mothers do their children — over-pet one day, and be 

 passionate with them the nest ; such conduct spoils a child and 

 a dog too. Train well, and behave sensibly, for the master in a 

 great degree makes the dog. The master and the dog often 

 greatly resemble each other. A dog constantly in the atmo- 

 sphere of the bad-tempered grows bad-tempered too ; the sleek- 

 haired fur-capped rascal has his counterpart in the wicked- 

 looking brindle-marked bull-dog at his heels. But choose your 

 fntiu-e pet discreetly ; train him well, ti'eat him like a sensible 

 being; do not make him the one to endure your outbreaks of ill 

 temper ; do not at times kick the poor brute under the table — 

 in short, deserve his respect and love, and you will have them. 

 Then the two beautiful lines I have prefixed to this paper will 

 be exemplified in your dog ; he will delight to be the guardian 

 of your sleeping hours, the friend of your waking hours, and 

 will be faithful to you in sickness, when the mere acquaintance 

 will not think of j-ou, when many a friend will fear to intrude 

 upon you ; but when the near relatives are with you, the wife 

 of your youth, or your children are by you, then your good dog 

 will whine at the door of your sick-room and claim admittance, 

 and be sorry for you, and often sick with you, and not be bright 

 and happy until he sees you well again. 



" Faithful to the end ;" yes, and sometimes faithful even be- 

 yond the end. As proof, take this true anecdote of what oc- 

 cirrred to my own knowledge during the past year only. A 

 large bull-terrier, the product of the first cross, stout of limb, 

 menacing to beggar and thief in look, yet a great kind-hearted 

 creature in spite of look to those of his own home — a child 

 might lead him with a thread ; just such a dog as Wood, the 

 naturalist, describes when he says, " The real bull-terrier of tlie 

 first cross is a marvellously brave animal, and far exceeding the 

 bulldog in agility and intellectual quickness. Fear seems no 

 part of his character, and he dashes with brilliant audacity at 

 any foe which his master may in licate to him, or which he 

 thinks it is his duty to attack." Well, a dog of tliis kind be- 

 came last year — chiefly for his suitability for a watch dog and his 

 powers of protection, for woe to the night thief that he got hold 

 of — became a clergyman's dog. His mistress was from the first 

 his friend, though " Tartar" did not look at all a lady 's dog. But 

 the words, " Come to missus," or, " Go to missus," were obeyed 

 with alacrity, and his great ugly face and little queer eyes 

 looked almost handsome when he bounded up to " Missus." By 

 one of those dispensations of Providence, strange to lis, but 

 which make us bow the head meekly, though we cannot yet 

 understand the why and wherefore, the dog's mistress died 

 almost suddenly and prematurely. As Wordsworth says — 



" The good die first, 

 But they whose hearts are dry as summer dust 

 Bum to the socket." 



Well, Tartar understood it all, noted all the events of the 

 dreadful days before and after, knew the grass, went each morn- 

 ing with his master to see it, stood by its side, not putting a 

 foot on it; he looked down sadly, looked up into his master's 

 face sympathisingly. This went on each day, when the master 

 was at the usual time of the visit summoned in haste to the 

 church for a register, and, therefore, passed by the grave with- 

 out stopping. But the dog stopped, and gave such a look, so 

 full of meaning and so continuous, that the master left the key 

 in the unopened door and went back to the grave, and then, but 

 not till then, the dog was satisfied. This was being faithful 

 even beyond the end. 



But dogs— i.e., good dogs, for mark the difference, there are 

 thorough bad dogs, but often made bad by the companionship 

 of bad men. Good dogs, I say, are not only good to their 

 masters and those with whom they live, but good to each other. 

 Take this example, which occurred within the last few months. 

 A retriever and a young St. Bernard were companions at the 

 eame home, their kennels being in the same yard. Did my 

 readers ever make the acquaintance of, or possess, or bring-up a 

 St. Bernard pup ? Some may not have done. Take, then, this 

 description. In the words of Slender, in the " Merry Wives of 

 Windsor," " She's a great lubberly boy." Large-Umbed with 



as yet no command of those large limbs ; legs going out spraw- 

 liugly when a run is attempted, a pu2)py far bigger than most 

 grown-up dogs ; therefore, all puppy waj's seeming in him or 

 her very out of place ; often a great coward, not daring to go 

 into a town, or away from home, flattening himself on the earth 

 in very cowardice ; in short an awkward hobbledehoy, or, as 

 Slender says, " She's a great lubberly boy." Tet this pup in 

 two years' time (for it takes two years for a large dog to become 

 adult), will become the massive, and strong, and well-knit, and 

 noble-bearing, and noble-looking, and courageous St. Bernard 

 dog ; the character, the appearance, the expression wholly 

 altered. Well, this retriever, a small one, and a half or three- 

 parts-grown St. Bernard, were companions and friends ; the 

 neat-limbed retriever, not a large one, and the as-yet somewhat 

 sprawling-limbed St. Bernard. The retriever — such a water 

 dog ! dashing in from any height, glorying in the limpid stream ; 

 but the St. Bernard, the big calf looking on and by no means 

 having heart enough to trust himself in the water. But he slips 

 in one day, and in terror splashes about and tries in his abject 

 fear to ascend the steepest part of the bank. This he cannot do, 

 and he is in peril, which as soon as the httle retriever sees, she, 

 for it was a "she" (little women have always the most pluck), 

 goes to the rescue, and puUs into safety the great quaking mass 

 of dog's flesh. The St. Bernard reciprocates the friendship and 

 now would anniliilate any dog that attacked his friend. 



But as this paper has contained some sad lines, let me finish 

 it with some hues of humour. A friend of mine possesses a 

 white Pomeranian dog, white and small — both good points ; 

 foxy-faced, and with such a pair of sparkling black eyes and tulip 

 ears — all good points ! These dogs are pleasant cheerful com- 

 panions, not given to hunting game, but keeping company only 

 with their masters. Still they are not, as "Idstone" states, 

 " remarkable for intelligence," and they have a decided fault in 

 being apt to snap at people. My friend cautioned a new servant 

 boy as to the dog's propensity for snapping. " I am used to it, 

 ma'am ; for my late missus had a dog of the same sort, and when 

 I wheeled her in the Bath chair, he snapped at my calves every 

 day." Think of the defenceless position of the boy — both hands 

 pulling the chair, and his calves daily snapped at ! What a 

 lucky dog he must have deemed himself to have had calves each 

 day ready for snapping ! then they were so helpless and so 

 tempting. Then the coolness of tlie lad — so used to the dog's 

 teeth, he thought nothing of them. Just as " The hand of Uttla 

 employment hath the daintier sense," so the leg constantly 

 snapped at became bo used to it that it cared nothing for the 

 snapping. Perhaps the boy looked down with a grin, and even 

 learned to enjoy it. Who knows ? — Wiltshibe Eeciob. 



GAPES : ITS CAUSE, PBEVENTION, AND CUBE. 



The fact that the disease was caused by a worm was proved 

 by Dr. Wiesenthal, Professor of Anatomy at Baltimore, in 1797. 

 The only difference of opinion resulting from late investigations 

 is in the shape of the worm. A description of this worm — • 

 Sclerostoma Syngamus — I shall reserve for a future article, not 

 yet having examined the subject microscopically as fully as 

 I wish. 



Nearly eight years ago the writer became convinced that the 

 progenitor of this troublesome worm was a tick or louse which 

 was found on the head of the young chick soon after hatching. 

 At that time, not having the facihties for a thorough microscopic 

 investigation, I simply communicated my views to the press 

 without illustration. Subsequent examination, aided by the 

 microscope, and experiments confirmed by several years' study, 

 have left no doubt in my mind that the theory then adopted is 

 the correct one — viz., that this insect deposits its eggs in the 

 nostril of the chick, where the warmth of the bird causes them 

 to hatch ; the larvte or worms thus generated work their way 

 .back or are conveyed thence by natural causes, and getting a lodg- 

 ment in the opening, of the trachea, there grow, and finally cause 

 the death of the bird by suffocation. 



Having had no cases of gajjes upon my own yards for many 

 years, I have been obliged to depend upon the kindness of 

 brother fanciers for specimens of the insect, and these, in a 

 majority of eases, have been dead when received. This spring 

 I obtained three specimens from my own yards, and with the 

 aid of a powerful microscope I have made correct drawings of 

 both back and belly of the insect, as well as studied its motions 

 and formation. The dark markings on the back of the insect are 

 a deep brown, and the body a Hght leaden grey. The legs are 

 sis in number, and all terminating with a sharp curved hook. 

 This hook is attached to the end of the leg by a joint, and shuts 

 or closes upon a hard pad, thus obtaining a grip which can 

 hardly be dislodged short of tearing out either the claw or the 

 object in which it is inserted. The whole three pairs of legs 

 bend towards the head, while in the ordinary species of lice the 

 two posterior pairs bend backward. What appears to be the 

 first pair of legs are, in fact, feelers, formed of five-jointed sec- 

 tions, and moveable in all directions. The eyes of this insect 

 are very distinct and prominent; the mouth is seemingly devoid 



