A Sportsman 283 



one day when they were coupled, as usual, and who 

 lagged so that I went back with suspicions of mischief 

 and found Jack as busy as any, holding down a large 

 ewe, which he was evidently exerting himself to dis- 

 embowel. I gave all big whacks with my stout stick, 

 and knocked Jack senseless with a blow on the head, 

 which I terribly regretted, as I thought I had killed 

 him. But he revived after some time, and when I got 

 the dogs back to the carriage, where my wife and 

 daughter were, I observed that Jack seemed rather 

 groggy, and lifted him for his mistress to carry, remark- 

 ing that he appeared exhausted with his run. Jack 

 never mentioned the occurrence, nor did I to my daugh- 

 ter until some time afterwards, when she forgave me, 

 since Jack appeared as lively as ever. 



One of my greyhounds, and one of the fleetest, was 

 so beautiful, graceful and affectionate, that we made 

 a house dog of her, Penelope by name, whose poses by 

 the fireside were pictures of elegance, and we were all 

 very proud of her, seemingly such a perfection of gentle- 

 ness and intelligence. She had the full run of the prem- 

 ises, and never seemed to stray off far. One day a 

 shepherd reported that she had made her appearance 

 in the early morning among his flock of lambs and 

 killed eight or ten of them. We considered this very 

 improbable, although his description of the killing dog, 

 which he was not able to get a shot at, corresponded 

 to that of Penelope. I interviewed her upon the sub- 

 ject, but one glance of her gentle, loving eye dissipated 

 any suspicions which had been aroused, and I told the 

 shepherd he must have been mistaken, and that he must 

 get his gun work in on the next killing. When I arose 

 the next morning I found the shepherd waiting for me, 



