liABIES IN THE DOG.— SYMPTOMS. 
m 
and indented the spoon, but endeavoured not to bite me. On 
the evening of the night on which he died, and when he was 
unable to get up, he faintly wagged his tail as I approached him, 
and, after many an effort, offered me his paw. 
The dog on which the power of the guaco was tried, and 
another that was submitted by Mr. Mayo and myself to some 
justifiable but severe experiments, attempted not once to bite. 
Ferocity of some Dogs . — On the other hand, there are dogs 
whose ferocity knows no bounds. If they are threatened with a 
stick, they fly at it and seize it, and furiously shake it. They 
are incessantly employed in darting to the end of their chain, and 
attempting to crush it w 7 ith their teeth, and tearing to pieces 
their kennel, or the wood-work within their reach. They are 
perfectly regardless of pain. The canine teeth — the incisor teeth 
are torn away, yet, unwearied and insensible to suffering, they con- 
tinue their efforts to escape. A dog was chained near a kitchen 
fire ; he was incessant in his endeavours to escape, and when he 
found that he could not effect it, he seized, in his impotent 
rage, the burning coals as they fell, and crushed them with his 
teeth. 
The Mad Dog abroad . — And when by chance he has escaped, 
he roams over the country, bent on the work of destruction. At 
the outset of his career he attacks quadruped and biped. He 
seeks the village street, or the more crowded one of the town, 
and he suffers not a dog to escape him — the horse is his frequent 
prey, and the human being is not always safe from his attack. 
A rabid dog, running down Park Lane in 1825, bit no fewer 
than five horses, and fully as many dogs. He was seen to steal 
treacherously upon some of his victims, and inflict the fatal 
wound. When the mad dog in the country has made the 
neighbourhood of the town too hot to hold him, he seeks the 
more distant pasturage. He gets among the sheep, and more 
than forty have been fatally inoculated in one night. He attacks 
a herd of cows, and five-and-twenty of them have fallen victims 
to this destroyer. His progress can scarcely be arrested. In 
July 18 L3, a mad-dog broke into the menagerie of the Duchess 
of York, at Oatlands ; and although the palisades which divided 
the different compartments of the menagerie were full six feet in 
height, and difficult or almost impossible to climb, he was found 
asleep in one of them, and it was clearly ascertained that he 
had bitten at least ten of the animals. 
The Mad Dog tired . — At length he becomes completely ex- 
hausted, and he thinks of recruiting himself by sleep, or return- 
ing homeward ; and he slowly trots or reels along the road, with 
his tail depressed, seemingly half-unconscious of surrounding 
