811 



to wait for hiiu. Sambo, giving me a 

 glance, dropped the reius, and was over 

 the gate in a tiash, caught the hare in the 

 next field, and toolv it to liis master, and 

 then, at his order, bronglit it up to the 

 gate; where Vean shortly arrived, and 1 

 was formally introduced to Sambo. We 

 then went on to Canon Court, where 

 Vean showed me the post-bag, which it 

 was Sambo's duty to take to the village 

 post otHce, distant a little over a mile, 

 every morning with the outgoing letters, 

 and to bring back with letters for the 

 family. There were no railroads in those 

 days, and one daily post was considered 

 ample. 



My next meeting with Sambo was at a 

 dinner party at Canon Court, where an 

 empty chair was placed at Mrs. Vean's 

 side, which at a given word was occupied 

 by the dog, with a table napkin 

 carefully pinned round his neck, and 

 hanging in front of his chest. Vwo 

 plates were set before him, one contain- 

 ing a slice of meat from the joint, cut 

 through in slices, but so as to appear 

 whole, and in the other, a slice of bread 

 cut in the same way. Then Sambo, at 

 command, stood up on the chair, and 

 being told to say grace, gave three short 

 barks. Poor dog! he was at least as 

 thankful as any of the guests: perhaps 

 more so. Then he began his dinner, 

 carefully taking, one at a time, the 

 divided slices in the most delicate way; 

 and when told by his master, taking a 

 slice of bread. It was. "I^ow a bit 

 of meat. Sambo — now a bit of bread," 

 and so on, till the plates were emptied. 

 There was no hurry, no scramble; the 

 meat and bread were taken slice by slice 

 off the plaies, which were left quite clean ; 

 and then, a glass cooler, full of water, was 

 placed before him. This, though quite 

 full, he managed to empty without spill- 

 ing a drop ; he then lifted his head, re- 

 peated his grace, and then, his napkin 

 being removed, as free from stain as when 

 put on, jumped from the chair, and made 

 the round of the table, selecting those 

 among the guests whom he knew, but 

 carefully avoiding those who either dis- 

 liked, or did not understand dogs. 



On another occasion, Vean sent the 

 dog, afler the ladies had left the dining 



room, for his slippers. I let him out in- 

 to the hall, the swing door from which, 

 towards the front stairs, could only be 

 pushed open in one direction. Having 

 passed through this, he went to the dress- 

 ing room, on the same floor, got the 

 slippers, and then, knowing that he could 

 not repass the swing door, darted up the 

 front stairs, and along passages to the 

 back stairs, which he descended, and soon 

 reappeared in the hall at the dinmg room 

 door. Surely something more than in- 

 stinct must have guided the dog in this 

 feat! 



The next time 1 saw Sambo he was 

 playing the part of valet to his master. 

 The meet being beyond Canon Court, I 

 had been invited to breakfast there on 

 my way up to covert ; and starting very 

 early (I had a horror of being late on a 

 hunting morning) I arrived while Vean 

 was in his dressing room, and on being 

 announced, was loudly told to come in ; 

 which I did, and found Vean in his dress- 

 ing gown, occupied in removing yester 

 day's growth from his chin, f^ambo 

 sitting up, and regarding the operation 

 with a look of quizzical interest, as much 

 as to say " I have seen that before, but I 

 am on show, and must make pretence of 

 being interested." After greeting me, 

 Vean turned to the dog, and^sa'd " Fetch 

 my shaving-towel, Sambo." Now this 

 shaving-towel was hanging on a large 

 clothes-horse which stood just opposite 

 to where Vean sat, at light angles to the 

 fire-place, which shed a bright glow of 

 heat upon the room ; and upon the broad 

 polished stand that formed its support— 

 their lower parts bright as a mirror, their 

 upper, brought to that perfection of flesh 

 tint which tops, manipulated by a through 

 artist, could alone display— stood the top 

 boots which, in those days, completed the 

 get-up of the hunting man. Now Sambo 

 well knew that, for his life, he must not 

 touch those boots with either paw or tail ; 

 he hesitated a moment, and then sprung 

 up and stood upon his hind legs, his paws 

 resting against the marble pillar of the 

 chimney piece. Then, deliberately throw- 

 ing himself back, and in his fall, snatch- 

 ing the edge of the shaving-towel with 

 his teeth, he rolled over, quite clear of 

 the boots, and, jumping up, delivered the 

 towel to his master, on the opposite side. 

 A clever trick, more deliberately planned 



