SOME THOUGHTS ABOUT MY DOG. 233 



kindness. The possibility of real companionship with 

 a dog is well illustrated in Philip Gilbert Hamerton's 

 account of his etching voyage, entitled "The Unknown 

 River," on which Tom, the dog, had "the satisfaction 

 of dining with his master on terms of something like 

 equality." The sharing of his meals with his dog has 

 from time immemorial been the sworn motto of every 

 true sportsman. Nay, furthermore, so says Mr. Jen- 

 kin Lloyd Jones, in his "Jess," " 'Love me, love my 

 dog,' is the chivalrous demand of man upon his brother 

 man." It was the pathetic lament of Rip Van Winkle, 

 when he returned to his native hamlet after his long 

 sleep in the Catskills, "My very dog has forgotten me !" 



I like to watch a dog dig after a rabbit, or a wood 

 mouse, or other "such small deer," as Shakespeare calls 

 them. How he will tear roots and every obstacle away 

 in his frenzy to get at his quarry! When he first has 

 cornered his game in his den he will put his nose care- 

 fully in and take a good sniff; then a little vigorous 

 digging; and then another sniff; then still more vigor- 

 ous digging; and then he pulls the earth away with his 

 paws, gets down close to the ground, and takes a good 

 long smell of the imprisoned game. Yes, he certainly 

 is there! And then he goes at it with perfect fury, 

 scattering dirt, stones, leaves, sticks, and the whole of 

 the obstructing matter to the wild winds. Perhaps he 

 may have to be called away by his master; but if he 

 can only get his rabbit or mouse, what a proud dog he 

 will be, and how his eyes will brighten and his tail wag 

 as he brings it and lays it at his master's feet! 



Many a battle royal do dogs have with snakes, 

 shaking them and dragging them in triumph, like the 



