BLENHEIM SPANIELS. 53 



menagerie. When a boy, I frequently saw her walking in the grounds of her mansion 

 at North Cray, Kent, followed by a whole pack, twenty or thirty, of Blenheims of every 

 variety. 



The instinct, sagacity, and attachment of the dog, are in none more apparent than 

 in these small spaniels, and the stratagems they will use to effect any particular object 

 are truly wonderful. It is upon record that, in the year 1792, a gentleman living in 

 Vere Street, Clare Market, went with his family to Drury Lane Theatre, at about half- 

 past five in the evening, leaving a " King Charles " locked up in the dining-room, to 

 prevent its getting out during his absence. At eight o'clock his son accidentally 

 opened the door, the dog, unperceived, watched his opportunity, slipped through the 

 street-door, and immediately made for the theatre. By some means he got into the 

 house, and tracked out his master, who was seated nearly in the centre of a very full 

 pit. I once had a dog of this kind upwards of fourteen years, having reared it up from 

 puppyhood, and, without our taking any special pains to educate it, the animal adopted 

 many of the habits of the family in as marked a degree as would a child. Thus he 

 regularly looked for his drink of coffee at the breakfast-table, nor would he go to bed 

 in the evening till he had his tea at nine o'clock. He preferred drinking out of my cup 

 to any other, and, in fact, would rarely touch another till he had had a few laps, at 

 least, out of that he best liked. He knew the dinner-hour perfectly well, and got very 

 restless if the cook was not quite punctual. When told, by way of pacifying him, to 

 go and see what preparations were making, he would run to the kitchen barking 

 vociferously. Of course, he expected some share of the meal. His favourite dish was 

 curry of any kind, the hot nature of the condiments being no impediment to his eating 

 as much as we were disposed to give him. Pastry and puddings, and especially plum- 

 pudding, of every description he seemed thoroughly to relish. When asked if he would 

 like to go out for a walk, he immediately began to prepare himself by brushing his 

 long ears with his paws, rolling on the carpet, as if to smooth his silky skin, and per- 

 forming other acts deemed indispensable to a proper appearance in public. Sunday he 

 distinguished from the other days of the week by never attempting to accompany any 

 members of the family who left the house, but sat quietly at a window, if a chair 

 happened to be near it, waiting their return from church. 



Resuming the chronological order of Landseer's exhibited works, the next picture 

 to be noticed is "The Shrew Tamed," in the Academy in 1861. The idea was 

 evidently borrowed from the success of Rarey, the horse-tamer, who about that time had 

 become famous. The, canvas in question was a large one, showing the interior of a 

 well-appointed stable, wherein is seen a young female, a lady to all appearance, who 

 having subdued into perfect quietness a very beautiful mare, lies down beside it on a 

 bed of straw, and, with uplifted hand, is prepared to conquer any refractoriness the 

 animal may yet be disposed to show. " In ordinary hands there is nothing here for a 



