162 NOTES BY THE WAY. 



posed ! He is the Quaker among dogs. All the 

 viciousness and currishness seem to have been weeded 

 out of him ; he seldom quarrels, or fights, or plays, 

 like other dogs. Two strange hounds, meeting for 

 the first time, behave as civilly toward each other as 

 two men. I know a hound that has an ancient, 

 wrinkled, human, far-away look that reminds one of 

 the bust of Homer among the Elgin marbles. He 

 looks like the mountains toward which his heart 

 yearns so much. 



The hound is a great puzzle to the farm dog ; the 

 latter, attracted by his baying, comes barking and 

 snarling up through the fields bent on picking a 

 quarrel ; he intercepts the hound, snubs and insults 

 and annoys him in every way possible, but the hound 

 heeds him not ; if the dog attacks him he gets away as 

 best he can, and goes on with the trail ; the cur bris- 

 tles and barks and struts about for a while, then goes 

 back to the house, evidently thinking the hound a 

 lunatic, which he is for the time being a mono- 

 maniac, the slave and victim of one idea. I saw the 

 master of a hound one day arrest him in full course, 

 to give one of the hunters time to get to a certain 

 runway ; the dog cried and struggled to free himself 

 and would listen neither to threats nor caresses. 

 Knowing he must be hungry, I offered him my 

 lunch, but he would not touch it. I put it in his 

 mouth, but he threw it contemptuously from him. 

 We coaxed and petted and reassured him, but he 

 was under a spell ; he was bereft of all thought or 

 desire but the one passion to pursue that trail. 



