DOGS. 113 



sometimes much worried if it was not. He would then 

 hear any family letters read aloud as he lay on the sofa. 



The reading aloud, which also included part of a novel, 

 lasted till about half-past ten, when he went back to work 

 till twelve or a quarter past. By this time he considered his 

 day's work over, and would often say, in a satisfied voice, 

 " I've done a good day's work." He then went out of doors 

 whether it was wet or fine ; Polly, his white terrier, went with 

 him in fair weather, but in rain she refused or might be seen 

 hesitating in the verandah, with a mixed expression of disgust 

 and shame at her own want of courage ; generally, however, 

 her conscience carried the day, and as soon as he was 

 evidently gone she could not bear to stay behind. 



My father was always fond of dogs, and as a young 

 man had the power of stealing away the affections of his 

 sisters' pets ; at Cambridge, he won the love of his cousin 

 W. D. Fox's dog, and this may perhaps have been the little 

 beast which used to creep down inside his bed and sleep 

 at the foot every night. My father had a surly dog, who 

 was devoted to him, but unfriendly to every one else, and 

 when he came back from the Beagle voyage, the dog remem- 

 bered him, but in a curious way, which my father was fond 

 of telling. He went into the yard and shouted in his old 

 manner ; the dog rushed out and set - off with him on his 

 walk, showing no more emotion or excitement than if the 

 same thing had happened the day before, instead of five 

 years ago. This story is made use of in the 'Descent of 

 Man,' 2nd Edit. p. 74. 



In my memory there were only two dogs which had much 

 connection with my father. One was a large black and white 

 half-bred retriever, called Bob, to which we, as children, were 

 much devoted. He was the dog of whom the story of the 

 " hot-house face " is told in the ' Expression of the Emotions.' 



But the dog most closely associated with my father was the 

 above-mentioned Polly, a rough, white fox-terrier. She was 

 VOL. I. I 



