52 
FOREST AND ' STREAM^ 
[July 18, 1896. 
They can live and reproduce in fresh water. So, although 
zoologically they are salmon, from the culinary standpoint 
they are trout. 
It is true that in California Salmo qiiinnat descends the 
Sacramento, but this journey is not obligatory. In the 
tanks of the Trocadero the qumnat reproduces wonder- 
fully, and after five generations its spawning is to-day as 
ample as at the beginning. 
In studying their qualities I have observed among 
these three species certain differences which caused me 
to become attached especially to the California salmon. 
Its flesh is very superior in quality, as has been remarked 
by certain authors, to that of the rainbow trout, and this 
is an important thing to be taken into consideration in its 
acclimatization. In order to make the comparison it is 
necessary to eat fish of the same age, raised under the 
same conditions and at liberty. 
It will be seen then that the rainbow trout is far from 
having the same delicacy as the California salmon. Its 
flesh is a little hard and dry, resembling that of the 
whitefish, while the quinnat has fine, tender and creamy 
flesh like the Scotch irout or very young salmon. 
The California salmon has another advantage over its 
two congeners: its reproductive period is very advanced. 
It spawns in the second half of October, while the brook 
trout spawns in December and the rainbow not until 
April. This peculiarity is of the highest importance; it is 
that upon which is based my preference for the California 
salmon in the method of culture which we are to ex- 
plain. 
In the enumeration of these qualities there has been less 
question about the brook trout than the other two species. 
This is because the fish has not the same adaptibility to 
artificial culture; it is more capricious in its habits; it is 
oftener subject to inexplicable mortality, and on these 
accounts I have relegated it to the third place, at least for 
the present. In that which follows I will confine myself 
to the California salmon. 
In the first place, we must ask ourselves the question 
whether the California salmon is susceptible of culture in 
ponds. On this subject I have made numerous experi- 
ments which have furnished precise and conclusive 
results, and which prove that it lives very well in ponds, 
thriving in them remarkably well. 
Without fatiguing you with all these experiments I will 
cite two which were undertaken in a small and a large 
pond. 
Dr. Leon Lefort, vice-president of the Society of Accli- 
matization of Pans, has raised California salmon and rain- 
bow trout in a pond of a hectare and a half in Salogne. 
The alevins were furnished by the Trocadero Aquarium. 
They were about 8 centimeters long when they were 
placed in this pond of comparatively high temperature. 
After two years' sojourn In the pond the fish reached an 
average size of 24in. 
With the assistance nf the Fishery Society of Langres 
(Haute- Marne), I made a rearing experiment in the pond 
of Leiz, situated near that town. This is a body of water 
covering 200 hectares, arid has no streams flowing into it. 
We were therefore assured that no predaceous fish would 
destroy the alevins which we placed there. Under these 
conditions, before the third year the California salmon 
reached a weight of G to '7 kilograms and a length of 31in., 
and'some of them reproduced. 
It is therefore shown by our experiments that the 
American SahaonidoE, live very well in a pond and grow 
rapidly. Let us inquire before leaving this subject how 
it is possible to rear these fishes as regularly as carp are 
raised. In taking carp culture as a type we do not expect 
the same results, and it is partly by having misunderstood 
this principle that the attempts made with trout have been 
unsuccessful. 
[to be concluded.] 
he ^mmt 
FIXTURES. 
BENCH 8HOW8. 
Sept. 1 to 4.— Kingston Kennel Club's fourth show, Kingston, Ont., 
Canada. C. H. Corbett, SupC. 
Sept. 7 to 11.— Rhode Island State Fair Association's fotirtb annual 
shove, Providence, R. I. 
Sept. 7 to 11.— Toronto Exhibition Association's eighth annual show , 
Toronto, Can. C. A. Stone, Sec'y ot bench show. 
Sept. 14 to 17.— Montreal Kennel Association's bench show, Montreal. 
G, Lanigan, Sec'y. 
Sept. 22 to 34.— Milwauiee Kennel and Pet Stock Association's second 
annual dog show, Milwaukee Louis Steflen, Sec'y. 
Oct. 6 to 8.— Danbury Agricultural Society's show, Danbury, Conn. 
G. M. Bundle, Sec'y. 
Dec. 15 to 18.— Central Michigan Poultry and Pet Stock Associa- 
tion's show, Lansing, Mich. C. H. Crane, Sec'y. 
FIELD TRIALS. 
Sept. 2.— Morris, Man.— Manitoba Field Trials Club. John Woofcton, 
Sec'y. 
Sept. 7.— Kennedy, Minn.- Continental Field Trial Club's chicken 
trials. P. T. Madison, Sec'y, Indianapolis, Ind. 
Oct. 9.— Brunswick Fur Club's annual meet Bradford. S, Turpin, 
Sec'y. 
Oct. 26.— Hempstead, L. I.— Natioonal Beagle Club's trials. Geo. 
W. Rogers, Sec'y, 250 W. Twenty-second street, New York. 
Oct. 28.— Greene county, Pa.— The Monongahela Valley Game and 
Fish Protective Association's second annual trials. S. B. Oummlngs 
Sec'y, Pittsburg. 
Nov. 2 — Bicknell, Ind.— Continental Field Trial Club's quail trials. 
P. T. Madison, Sec'y. 
Nov. 2.— Oxford, Mass.— New England Beagle Club's trials. W. 8. 
Clark, Sec'y, Linden, Mass. 
Nov. 10— Columbus. Wis.— Northwestern Beagle Club's trials. Louis 
Steffen, Sec'y, Milwaukee. 
Nov. 10.— Leamington, Ont.— Peninsular Field Trial Club, Leaming- 
ton, Ont. 
Nov. 10.— Central Beagle Club's trials. L. O. Seidel, Sec'y. 
Nov. 16.— Newton, N. O.— E, F. T. Club's trials. 8. C. Bradley, Sec'y, 
Greenfield Hill, Conn. 
Nov. 17.— Chatham, Ont.— International Field Trial Club's trials. 
W. B. Wells, Sec'y, Chatham, Ont. 
Nov. 28.— Newton, N. C— U. S. F. T. Club's fall trials. W. B. Staf- 
ford, Sec'y. 
Dec. 14.— Athens, Ala.— Dixie Red Fox Club's second annual trials 
J. H. Wallace, Sec'y^ 
Never Touched Him. 
July 8. — How unfortunate it is that in matters pertain- 
ing to the A. K. C. men will rush into print and make 
statements without first obtaining facts from the A. K. C. 
office. As an instance, Mr. J. Otis FelloVs attacks the A. 
K. O. for diequahfying him. My records do not show any 
such thing. A. P. Vrbdbnburgh, Sec'y. 
Since the above was put in type, Mr. Fellows informs 
us that he has been notified by the secretary of the A. K, 
C. that he is not disqualified, and he adds by way of con- 
clusion, "So, to the boys who wished to know how I felt 
I vnW. say, very well, thank you; I am upt dead yet." 
DOG AND PICTURE. 
Editor Forest and Stream: 
A Posteriori concludes his article in the July 4 issue of 
Forest and Stream as follows: 
"I believe with Mr. Adams that the dog has powers of 
reason; our divergence of belief is on the degree of it; 
and while my argument has been in a positive manner 
against Mr, Adams's data, I simply have endeavored to 
show that his proposition is not proven, and not that it is 
impossible. The data up to the piesent time do not sus- 
tain his proi)osition. nor warrant his conclusion. The 
matter to gain a belief with the world should be free 
from smj petitio principii." 
I am not awarw of having ever begged the question. 
Like the man in the good book, "to beg I am ashamed." 
Before making this charge, A Posteriori should have 
been sure of what the question was. I have never 
claimed that a dog or any other lower animal can recog- 
nize, or has ever recognized, a portrait. I may have in- 
timated that I see no reason why a dog cannot recognize 
a portrait. I am perfectly willing' to go further and say 
that, reasoning a priori, I believe that the power to 
recognize a portrait is possessed by intelligences beneath 
the intelligence of man — which is a very different thing 
from saying that I know it. 
A Posteriori — though it is very evident that he knows 
the difference between the meanings of the words — con- 
founds cognition and recognition. He has not done this 
in a spirit of unfairness, but in carelessness, or for the 
lack of a better word to express the cognition of a por- 
trait as a portrait of a certain person — a possible second- 
ary meaning. 
That I may eret the thought that I had in mind in my 
first letter to Forest and Stream to the reader fully, 
allow me to raise and answer the question, What is cog- 
nition? There are two other words which express the 
same idea, know and perceive, as I have used the word 
cognition in this discussion. 
Knowing, perceiving, cognizing, is a distinct act of the 
mind. It is not sensation. I pause for a moment for an 
illustration. Just outside the window by which I write 
there is a honeysuckle in full bloom. I hear the low, 
steady buzz of a hummingbird, with that occasional 
creak of satisfaction which the hummingbird gives when 
it has struck a particularly rich deposit of sweetness. 
The humming and the creaking have no doubt been 
going on for some time. The waves of air put'in motion 
by the wings and the throat of the hummingbird have 
been striking upon the tympanum of my ear; but I have 
been engaged, my attention has been taken by the work 
in hand, and I have not been aware of the waves so 
striking. Now I am aware of them, now I perceive 
them, now, my memory continuum being aw<>,kened by 
this perceived event in my sensory continuum, I cognize 
the waves and the little energetic bundle of color which 
causes them. 
In using the large words — and one must use large 
words once in a while, or be accused of petitio principii 
— I have involved the definition of a recognition. When 
I cognize a thing which I have cognized before, and re- 
member that I have cognized it before, then I have rec- 
ognized it. When a portrait of a friend is so good that I 
cognize him in it, then I have in a legitimate use, I take 
it, of the word recognized my friend's portrait. Any dic- 
tionary will give the derivation of the word portrait. It 
is from the Latin words pro, forth, and trahere, to draw. 
He is the most successful portrait painter who draws 
forth the most of the individuality of his subject and re- 
produces it on the canvas. Were there an infinitely 
perfect portrait painter, he would so absolutely reproduce 
the original that everybody would be so fully deceived 
that in looking at the canvas he would think that he 
stood in the presence of that original — as Tiger probably 
did when he looked upon the crayon portrait of his mas- 
ter. One so deceived might step up and try to slap the 
poi'trait on the shoulder, as he would the friend, were the 
friend one who would enjoy such a procedure, as every 
friend does not. 
In saying "Let us now consider the actions of a man 
examining the portrait of a friend, or, as the mental 
scientist would say^ observe the mental phenomena which 
he exhibits. His face may take on a pensive look. He 
does not reach out to shake hands with it, or slap it on its 
shoulder, or talk to it. He knows it is only a representa- 
tion. It is only a semblance — not a reality," he evidences 
that he has overlooked the necessity of my drawing dis- 
tinctly the line of definition between a reflection and a 
likeness, and between a likeness and a portrait. I did not 
say that Tiger would have cognized a reflection or a like- 
ness of his master. What I did say was that Tiger cog- 
nized a portrait of his master. That I still say; and in so 
doing he solved the problem in psychology which I had 
in mind when I said it. After saying this I need not 
spend much time upon A Posteriori's remark: "Now, 
when the matter of recognizing a likeness is introduced, 
the instances cited as preparatory to the introduction of 
the dog's recognition of a portrait have no relevancy 
to it." 
It seems to me that they are quite relevant. A portrait 
without a likeness would be quice as impossible as an em- 
bodied spirit without a body. The likeness is that through 
which the portrait manifests itself, as the body is that 
through which the spirit, or the individuality, manifests 
itself. 
To the cognition of a portrait four things are necessary: 
1, the faculty of form; 3, the faculty of color; 3, reason; 
and 4, what may be called the spiritual sense, by which 
spirit, or the individuality within the personality, is cog- 
nized — the two first being necessary to the cognition of 
reflections, I think that hardly anyone questions that the 
lower animal has the faculty of form. As I have fre- 
quently instanced, my dog Phlip knew the difference be- 
tween the shape of my beretta, which I wore only on 
Sundays, and the hat which I wore on the street, as well 
as I or anybody else did. He would look at my head. 
When he saw that I had the beretta on, he would go off, 
curl up on his rug, and show disappointment that he 
could not go with me; but make no movement in the di- 
rection«of going. But when I put on my street hat he 
would take it for granted that he could go, and fall in at 
my heels; or, if he had not been out for a walk for some 
time, frisk off in front of me, or circle about me. It is 
quite evident that the little beggar — gone over to the ma- 
jority by the assassin's hand a year ago last Trinity Mon- 
day — could not have known the difference in the shapes 
of my head gear had he not had the faculty of form. Sir 
John Lubbock had a dog so trained that he would bring a 
piece of cardboard on which was printed the name of the 
thing that he wanted. The dog had learned to read these 
wor^s, as you and I learn to read words, by the forms. 
As to the cognition of colors, A Posteriori says: "Again, 
in recognizing colors as Mr. Adams mentions, the colors 
served to show differences plainly perceivable to the eye." 
In other words, he thinks that the lower animal has not 
an abstract idea of color. Sir John Lubbock, to refer to 
him again, has proven — anji remember that he is not a 
psychologist, but a scientist purely in the region of ob- 
jective — ^that the sense of color of certain insects stops at 
one pole of the spectrum, where man's stops, but at the 
other pole does not stop where man's stops. Where it 
does stop, man of course does not and cannot know. That 
the lower animal has the abstract notion of color, as it 
has other abstract notions, I think very probable. A lady 
writes me from Indiana that one of her dogs has a dis- 
tinct preference for a certain color. He shows preference 
for it in ribbons and in flowers. As to reason, as already 
quoted, A Posteriori says: "I believe with Mr. Adams 
that the dog has powers of reason; our divergence is on 
the degree of it." I do not know that I have ever said to 
what des'ree I believe that a dog can reason. In another 
place A Posteriori says: "He (the dog) seems to have a 
limited knowledge that certain causes will produce limit- 
ed results, but his reasoning is always simple and direct. 
It never takes any mediate forms. He never makes any 
abstract reasonings. A thing actually exists or it does 
not. If the dog cannot understand certain things he 
drops the whole matter. He goes on in his own little 
world of simple cognitions. He has not even an axiom 
to guide his intelligence. And here let me say that I be- 
lieve that the rules of logic have done more to set in the 
background the dog's just claim to possessing powers of 
reason than aU other causes combined." 
Here I take direct issue. Man has sung the sweet song 
of his essential superiority to the lower animal — sung it 
to himself too long. The dog's "reasoning never takes 
any mediate forms," Does it not? My dog finds that 
some one has taken the coat upon which he loves to sleep 
out of his chair and hung it on the arm of another chair. 
What does he do? He goes to the coat, then comes to me 
and scratches my knee, then goes to the chair where he 
would have the coat, then wags his tail in request, the 
while he looks at me, his eyes full of appeal. That dog 
as clearly used me to a purpose as mechanic ever used 
lever or screw. I read in the last number of Our Animal 
Friends about how the elephant, cruelly kept in an in- 
closure where no sheds have been erected and no trees 
grow, takes hay and deliberately places it on his back to 
break the power of the sun's rays — preferring new hay to 
old, and damp to dry, as I remember the account. But 
we have to do with the dog just now. A gentleman 
called upon another gentleman. They started on a walk 
to a depot together. The other gentleman's dog followed. 
The master told him to go back. He would not do so. 
The master cruelly beat him — so cruelly that the stranger 
took his part. As soon as the dog found that he had a 
friend he went over to him, and then made such an 
attack upon the master that that friend had to interfere, 
I do not say that the dog can reason as complexly as 
man, any more than I would say the Indian can reason as 
complexly as the Anglo-Saxon, or the average Anglo- 
Saxon as Bacon. But I do say that it is not true that to 
the dog "A thing actually exists or it does not," Curiosity 
is as surely an endowment of the lower animal as it is of 
man. The attempt has been made to show that there is 
radical difference between man and the lower animal in 
that man has what may be called the power of infinite 
persistency. But that power man has not — even in reli- 
gion. Did not even The Christ cry out on the cross: "My 
God, my GodI why hast thou forsaken me?" The lower 
animal's curiosity does not lead it as far as man's leads 
him, but curiosity leads lower animals. The lower ani- 
mal may not use as many means to ends as man uses, but 
it uses means to ends. The confusion, nay the paralysis 
of psychology is dogma. And there is no dogma so par- 
alyzing as the negative dogma. There is no danger that the 
lower animal will crowd man out of Wall street, nor from 
the pulpit, nor bar, nor editorial desk. There is no danger 
that the lower animal will take man's place in eternity. 
Then why not be fair to him? Why count him out? Why 
not count him in? I say in my first letter something 
about a dog's coming to know that a reflection of himself 
in a glass is of himself, A Posteriori calls upon me to give 
an instance to substantiate this statement. A gentleman 
told me the other day about his cat going around the mir- 
ror to find the cat which was a reflection of herself. He 
said that after that the cat seemed to know that the re- 
flection in that mirror was of herself. I once had a dog 
who as surely knew the reflection in a mirror in the door 
of a wardrobe in my study was of himself as I did. How 
do I know? How would I have known that a child came 
to know that the reflection which it first took to be another 
child was a reflection of itself? By its looks and actions, 
of course 1 In the same way did I come to know that the 
dog knew that the reflection was not another dog, but a 
reflection of himself. Everything outside one's own ex- 
periences in psychology is an inference. I may misread 
the actions and looks of the child or the man, as I may 
those of the dog; and the adult may not tell me the 
truth. We may be more certain that Tiger cognized the 
portrait than we would be that a friend of the artist cog- 
nized it. For dogs and children, before a certain age, are 
not flatterers, and adults may not be, but are almost com- 
pelled to be by the laws of courtesy. 
That the dog has intuition or what I have called the 
spiritual sense, by which he reads the changing moods of 
the individual master through the personal master, A Pos- 
teriori has already admitted. So I would claim that there 
is nothing unreasonable in the a priori conclusion which 
I reached, that a dog may be able to cognize a portrait in 
or through a likeness. That, and only that, is what I 
claimed that Tiger did, when his master took him into 
the room to see the finished portrait on the easel. I have 
not claimed that Tiger recognized the portrait in the sec- 
ondary sense in which I used the word at the opening of 
this paper. But I would not be surprised at all to be told 
that he had done so. Remember that he went into the 
room with his master, that his master was in the room 
when he cognized the portrait, and that when his master 
spoke to him he left the portrait and went to and fondled 
his master. 
Many other points in A Posteriori's interesting letter I 
would like to touch upon, but they do not belong to this 
discussion, which should have been confined to the discus- 
