but further recital might weary. Let mention of her adventure 

 with the garden hose suffice as an example of the rest. The 

 curious serpentine length stretched out on the lawn interested her 

 vastly, and when she heard the sissling noise made by the air 

 escaping from the nozzle as the water came on down went her nose 

 to investigate. A sudden jet full in the face caused a precipitate 

 retreat, and now as the hose appears there is much commotion at a 

 diplomatic distance. 



These few words convey but inadequately the intelligence and 

 charm of the Pyrenean Mountain dogs which Lady Sybil Grant 

 is doing her best to acclimatise in this country. More delightful 

 companions and trustworthy guardians could not be wished by the 

 most exigent, nor is this surprising. For centuries they have lived 

 in communion with their masters on the Pyrenean slopes, protecting 

 the flocks from bears and wolves, or human depredators. With 

 the practical disappearance of the former animals their vocation to 

 an extent has gone, while the inherited instinct remains. They are 

 no common sheep dogs, used to round up the flocks. In their native 

 land, the shepherd, following the old Biblical custom, leads his sheep 

 to the green pastures on the mountains with the advent of spring, 

 and there they remain until winter approaches. Time was when 

 severe toll would have been taken of the defenceless creatures during 

 the long nights but for the unceasing watchfulness of the faithful 

 Patous posted at various points. 



