FROM THE " SPECTA TOR:' 59 



[Feb. 7, 1885.] 



HAVE you room for one more dog story, 

 which resembles one lately reported in a 

 French journal ? A few years since I was 

 sitting inside the door of a shop to escape 

 from the rain while waiting for a trap to take 

 me to the railway station in the old Etruscan 

 city of Ferentino. Presently an ill-bred dog 

 of the pointer kind came and sat down in 

 front of me, looking up in my face, and 

 wagging his tail to attract my attention. 

 " What does that dog want ? " I asked of a 

 bystander. "Signore," he answered, "he 

 wants you to give him a soldo to go and 

 buy you a cigar with." I gave the dog the 

 coin, and he presently returned, bringing a 

 cigar, which he held crossways in his mouth 

 until I took it from him. Sent again and 

 again, he brought me three or four more 

 cigars from the tobacco-shop. At length the 

 clog's demeanour changed, and he gave vent 

 to his impatience by two or three low whines. 

 " What does he want now ? " I asked. "He 

 wants you to give him two soldi to go to the 

 baker's and buy bread for himself." I gave 



