accomplished. It was our first experience of 

 all that is irremediable in the death of a friend. 

 S8 I must content myself, not as honouring 

 them less, but as being limited in regard to 

 space, with a bare mention of Shep, a beauti- 

 ful Welsh collie, always ready to chase imagi- 

 nary sheep over the commons of Cambridge 

 or round the Squares of London, and of 

 Buffles, a Skye, the frequent playmate of 

 Wilkie Collins, whose bunch of keys he used 

 to retrieve with eager iteration from all the 

 corners and canopies of a drawing-room, of 

 BufHes who, to the end of his long and honour- 

 able life, cherished the magnanimous delusion 

 that, by the mere swiftness of his ridiculous 

 legs, he could capture a pheasant in Hamp- 

 shire or a sparrow in Pall Mall. I come now 

 to Jack, the tawny and majestic chief of a 

 long line of St. Bernards. Jack travelled as a 

 youth from Switzerland to Cambridge, where 

 he soon became a very active member of the 

 First Trinity Boat Club. He involved him- 

 self willingly in the complex machinery for 

 19 the 



