NUISANCES, INHUMAN AND HUMAN. 209 



trenchments. I called my dogs Gran and Sher (it 

 seemed almost sacrilegious to copy the names liter 

 ally), and the cats Lee and John. 



Gran was a bull-dog, although not of quite pure 

 blood, and my conscience troubled me somewhat on 

 that score ; but his grip was most tenacious, and no 

 punishment could make him &quot; sing out ;&quot; while Sher 

 was a full-blooded Scotch terrier, as ugly as possible, 

 but a sly little fellow, great on unexpected attacks, 

 and dodging in on exposed places. Apart from his 

 permanent battle with the kittens, and a most in 

 veterate dislike to boys and beggars, Gran was the 

 gentlest of dogs. He would beg for his dinner, 

 and would howl out his affection if asked whether 

 he loved his master and simultaneously offered a 

 piece of sugar, of which he was extravagantly fond. 

 His countenance was expressive of the strongest de 

 votion, and his curly tail had a kindly wag for all 

 his acquaintances. But let a dirty boy appear and 

 Flushing abounds with this nuisance or let a beg 

 gar attempt to enter the front gate, and Gran went 

 into a paroxysm of rage ; his hair bristled up, his tail 

 straightened and became twice its natural thickness, 

 and his eyes glared with the wildest fury. If the 

 offending party carried a bag, his fate was sealed, 

 and many was the time that I had to rush out and 



