200 THE GREAT THIRST LAND. 



fact, his head looked as if he had been sat upon. With 

 half-bleached hair, that had once been brown, and a 

 complexion more like the colour of those saucers that 

 actresses wash their stockings in, was this man and his 

 dog. I weighed the matter. A useless cur I knew it 

 must be ; still, it might bark, and it might be cunning 

 enough to bite in the dark, and take advantage of op- 

 portunities to do injury that the more upright and just 

 would never avail themselves of. So I bought the 

 brute, and called it " Macguire," after one I once knew, 

 and whom it much resembled. Sometimes, for short- 

 ness, I called it "Paddy." That was when I was 

 good-tempered ; if out of sorts, I always gave the 

 miserable red-haired brute his name in full. Never was 

 there a greater skulker in this world, and yet the wretch 

 makes professions to be as brave as its comrades, and 

 would deceive any but keen observers. I have not 

 mentioned him before, for he was scarcely worth the 

 trouble. Yet to-day he was bitten by a snake. The 

 limb where he was struck swelled enormously, and I 

 concluded that my pack of nondescripts was about to 

 suffer a diminution; however, I applied extract of 

 ammonia to the wound, poured two or three table- 

 spoonfuls down his throat ; and I now know that my 

 efforts have saved the cur's life. 



Well, poor wretch ! his unfortunate appearance is 

 not his fault, but all the other dogs dislike him most 

 terribly, and never lose an opportunity of worrying him; 

 and though one may feel sorry that such is the case, 

 yet one cannot so thoroughly show sympathy when one 

 observes that he attacks all who are weaker than him- 

 self, and without the slightest scruple appropriates 

 their food. "Give a dog a bad name," &c. &c. : so in 



