A TERROR TO TRAMPS. 145 



slightest doubt of its truth, and that the circum- 

 stances were very much as I have related them. 



"Writing of Mr. Ramsay, I am reminded of the 

 acuteness and services of a dog that he owned, and 

 had taught to do many strange things. It was a 

 plain-looking sort of half-bred Newfoundland ; and 

 one day, whilst standing near the Lamb Inn, at 

 Abingdon, Mr. Ramsay said to me : 



' Do you see that dog on the other side of the 

 road ?' and, on my answering in the affirmative, con- 

 tinued : ' he is watching and following that tramp 

 there a few yards before him' — which he evidently 

 was doinir. ' He will never leave him till he sees 

 him safe out of the town ; and then will come back 

 to look for any other vagrants he can find. This the 

 dog does every day, with or without me. He so 

 frightens the tramps that they generally make the 

 best of their way out of the town, and dispense with 

 his company.' 



One story leads to another, and especially on the 

 subject of the sagacity of our faithful four-footed 

 companions. Dogs have been known to find their 

 way home again from great distances, although they 

 may not have known a foot of the road. I can 

 readily believe it, for I have had experience of their 

 ability in this way. Forty years ago a little sagacious 

 animal of my own, of no breeding, stole away and 

 accompanied my horse Fugitive from the Anchor Inn, 

 Kenford — or, as the Cornishmen call it, ' The Pickaxe 



10 



