THE GREYHOUND. 



19 



engaged in coursing, lie is never away from me. On his return, he runs before me, often looking back 

 to see if I had turned out of the road, and, as soon as he again catches sight of me, showing symptoms 

 of joy, and once more trotting away before me. If a short time only has passed since he has seen me 

 or my friend, he jumps up repeatedly by way of salutation, and barks with joy, as a greeting to us. 

 He has also many different sorts of speech, and such as I never heard from any other dog. Now, 

 really, I do not think I ought to be ashamed to chronicle the name of this dog, or to let posterity 

 know that Xenophon, the Athenian, had a greyhound, called Honn6, possessed of the greatest speed, 

 and intelligence, and fidelity, and excellent in every point." 



THE GRKYIIOI'NI). 



Llewellyn, of Wales, was at the chaae of hart and hare, but it was little enjoyed, and scant was 

 the booty of the day ; and, no wonder, for Glert was not there 



" The flower of all his race." 



On his master returning, the greyhound went forth to hail his coming ; but, alas ! his lips and fangs 

 ran blood, and, as Llewellyn entered his home 



" O'erturn'd his infant's bed he found, 



The blood-stained covert rent, 

 And all around the walls and ground 

 With recent blood besprent. 



" He called his child no voice replied; 



He searched with terror wild: 

 Blood! blood ! he found on every side, 

 But nowhere found the child ! 



"Aroused by Gelert's dying j-ell, 



Some slumberer wakened nigh. 

 What words the parent's joy can tell, 

 To hear his infant's cry! 



" Concealed beneath a mangled heap, 



His hurried search had missed, 

 All glowing from his rosy sleep, 

 His cherub boy he kissed. 



NVir scratch had he, nor harm, nor dread ; 



But the same couch beneath 

 Lay a great wolf, all torn and dead, 



Tremendous still in death. 



'"Hell-hound ! by thee my child 's devour'd! ' 



The frantic father cried ; 

 And to the hilt his vengeful sword 

 He plunged in Gelert's side ! 



"Ah! what was then Llewellyn's pain, 



For now the truth was clear: 

 The gallant hound the wolf had slain, 

 To save Llewellyn's heir .' " 



Macaire, an officer of the body-guard of Charles V., king of France, hated a comrade in the same 

 service, named Montdidier. Having met in the forest of Bondis, near Paris, Macaire treacherously 

 murdered his brother officer, and buried him in a ditch. 



