Canine Guests. 25 



I had a good opportunity, at dinner, of observing the 

 master himself. There was not the faintest trace of any- 

 thing Hke charlatanism in his manner. A very quiet, 

 grave, serious, even sad-looking old gentleman, dressed 

 soberly in black, he talked about places he had visited 

 and about the political news of the day. The impression 

 he made upon us was altogether favourable. He reminded 

 me most of some respectable old school-master or librarian, 

 who had seen a good deal of the world and reflected on 

 what he had seen, but whose thoughts were tinged with 

 a deepening gravity, the result of narrowed fortune and 

 weakened health. I learned afterwards that there were 

 ample reasons for this sadness. M. du Rouil had had two 

 sons killed in the Franco-Prussian war and another se- 

 verely wounded, whilst his daughter, a pretty girl of eigh- 

 teen, had been killed by a shell at Neuilly in the sanguinary 

 days of the Commune. His house, too, had been sacked 

 by the Communards, and a small business which his wife 

 managed had been put an end to. The capital invested 

 in that little business had been earned by the dog Bianca, 

 of whom, and her daughter Lyda, it is time to give a 

 description. 



Bianca, or Blanche, as her master familiarly calls her, 

 is a bitch of the pure caniche breed. I use the French 

 word because although we have an English one, " poodle," 

 I rather think that the word poodle does not distinguish 

 between the real caniche and the chien-ntoiiton, another 

 very intelligent breed from which performing dogs are 

 frequently taken. Of M. du Rouil's three pupils one is 

 a pure caniche, the other (Lyda) is a cross between the 

 caniche and the spaniel, whilst the third is a chien-niouton, 



Commune refers to a rising of the people in Paris against the government 

 after the Germans had besieged the city in 1871. 



