1 50 THE FIRESIDE SPHINX 



The delightful thing to remember is that Scott, 

 who was not by nature a lover of cats, granted to 

 Hinse a fair share of friendship. He was wont to 

 say that his growing esteem for cats in general, 

 and for Hinse in particular, was a sign of old age, 

 of chimney-corner life, dogs having been his 

 boon companions in the vigorous years of man 

 hood. Maida is a name to conjure by, and there 

 is nothing in the wide world of English letters 

 more touching than that first lament for Abbots- 

 ford, when the clouds were gathering fast, and the 

 hopes of his heart were broken. &quot; I feel my dogs 

 feet on my knees. I hear them whining and seek 

 ing me everywhere.&quot; 



Yet Hinse lorded it over the great hound with 

 all the arrogance of his race, and no one enjoyed 

 more than Sir Walter such superb and unwarranted 

 effrontery. Soon after the coming of Maida, he 

 wrote in high glee to Joanna Baillie : 



&quot; I have added a most romantic inmate to my 

 family, a large bloodhound, allowed to be the 

 finest dog of the kind in Scotland ; perfectly gen 

 tle, affectionate and good-natured, and the darling 

 of all the children. I had him a present from Glen 

 garry, who has refused the breed to people of the 

 very first rank. He is between the deer-greyhound 

 and mastiff, with a shaggy mane like a lion ; and 

 always sits beside me at dinner, his head as high 



