A DOG ON LONG SERMONS. 



Ha 



[Aug. 4, 1888.] 



DURING a recent journey in Canada, I met 

 with a striking instance of reason in a dog. 

 I was staying at the Mohawk Indian Insti- 

 tution, Brantford, Ontario. The Rev. R. 

 Ashton, superintendent of the school, is also 

 incumbent of the neighbouring Mohawk 

 Church (the oldest Protestant church in 

 Canada). Mr. Ashton is very fond of 

 animals, and has many pets. One of these, 

 a black-and-tan terrier, always accompanies 

 the ninety Indian children to church on 

 Sunday morning. He goes to the altar-rails, 

 and lies down facing the congregation. 

 When they rise to sing, he rises ; and when 

 they sit, he lies down. One day, shortly 

 before my visit, a stranger-clergyman was 

 preaching, and the sermon was longer than 

 usual. The dog grew tired and restless, and 

 at last a thought occurred to him, upon 



