394 
AME RICAN AGRIOULTUR 1ST. 
[October, 
shop, never even going in front of his old butcher's 
place. Just what the dog’s feelings were can not be 
described, because they can never be known to us. 
We have heard of cases where dogs were the principal 
actors in thieving and other crimes, and were so skillful 
.as to baffle the police. The discover}' of the case in mind 
was made by a boy—not an exception to the general 
rule. There were three parties, two women and the 
■dog, and they made a business of stealing laces, and 
■other light valuable goods. One woman, accompanied 
kept solely for ornament, and well serve their purpose. 
Such pets fare sumptuously every day, and are doubtless 
of that class of which the attractive owner may well say, 
“Love me: love my dog,” to her gentlemen admirers. 
“ fSJsostld Owl’d Acqiiiiintaiice Ire 
I'orgot.” 
Among the noises of childhood that are still ringing in 
my ears, is that of the Screech Owl. In my younger days, 
stone and stick from the pathway. It was growing darker 
and no cows could be seen, but I pressed on up a ravine 
where I knew they often went. Suddenly the stillness 
was broken by a strange sound—under tlie circumstance, 
it was so sort of awfui—like a distressed child—that I con¬ 
fess I was a trifle frightened, if not more so. I paused and 
held my breaih for a moment, and felt something go 
thump—thump—thump—against my breast in rapid suc¬ 
cession, but. it soon passed away, and on I went. Again 
the sound of ihe child, and yet not like a child, and again 
A MIDNIGHT MOONLIGHT MEETING. 
by the dog, would call at a store, and be shown some 
lace, a piece of which she would manage to drop to the 
floor, when the dog would take it in his mouth, and run 
off with it to the second woman in the street. For a 
considerable time various stores lost goods almost daily, 
and several expert detectives were employed, when at 
last the door-boy saw the lace drop and the dog pick it 
up, and the whole three were caught, tried for shop¬ 
lifting, and imprisoned—dog and all, we suppose. 
Dogs, as you know, are of all sizes, shapes, colors, etc. 
The English Mastiff often weighs 200 pounds or more, 
while those of some varieties, when full grown, do not 
exceed a half-a-dozen ounces. Such dogs are carried in 
a lady’s pocket. They have never been caught doing 
any damage to a flock of sheep or other domestic animals. 
The pictures of two famous English Smooth Grey¬ 
hounds, “ David,'' and “ Biot" both of which have taken 
many prizes, are shown in the first engraving. We in 
America, especially those living away from the large 
cities, have but little idea how much is made of fox and 
other hunting by the English people. They have there 
over 20,000 of this single breed of hunting dogs. These 
dogs, as the engraving shows, are in every way built for 
speed. The head is small and very pointed, the body 
long, but with a very strong back, the limbs long and 
slender, and a tail like a whip. Don’t you think that 
these dogs enjoy a good run ? They had rather run than 
cat. Some other breeds are made up of those that had 
rather eat than run, and we will introduce you to such a 
one in the second engraving—“ Jumbo," a King Charles 
Spaniel. Notice the contrast in his “ stub nose,” or 
“ pug," with those of the Greyhounds. What a large, 
full eye he has 1 and what a round head. What ears, as 
compared with those in figure 1—long, with flowing 
silky hair, which hang by the side of and half cover the 
short neck and shoulders. His tail, just the opposite of 
his neighbors', is short, with long hair. These Spaniels 
are small, weighing from four to eight pounds, and are 
like many good hoys — mind you. I do not say I was a 
good boy—I lived on a farm (sometimes I wish I was 
there still), and held the rank of Cow-Boy. I had the 
pleasure of every day running down a long lane, at the foot 
of which was a pair of bars — very heavy bars that did not 
move easily—behind which, the cows should be standing 
in waiting for my coming. But, through forgetfulness, 
obstinacy, or other cause, they frequently were not there, 
and away down through a deep “ gulley,” along a wind¬ 
ing roadway, under dark, dismal hemlocks, and the 
shadow of great rocks, I was obliged to pass ; then over 
a “ water log,” off which 1 remember falling once (yes, 
more than once), and then up a deep, dark ravine I would 
go in search for the stray animals. Hunting cows in a 
deep woods, that has a deep gulley and a shallow stream 
running through it, with the flood-gates gone, is not. alto¬ 
gether funny, especially if “ the shades of night are fall¬ 
ing fast,” and you havn't had your supper. One night— 
it was after a thunder storm, in which the lightning had 
struck and shattered an old oak into little fragments— 
the cows were gone. I had no special foundness for t bun¬ 
der showers, and if there had been a night when I hoped 
that the cows would boon hand, it was that one. “But 
it never rains but it pours.” It poured that night. There 
was no other way for me hut to go on into the dfirk 
woods and along the etoney “gulley” road in which the 
muddy water was crossing here and there. It was all still, 
save the roll of the distant thunder. The sun had already 
set, as the shower was a late one. all of which made mat¬ 
ters worse for me. I longed for a companion—some one 
to talk to me as I ran along, now and then giving a half 
choked Co-bos , Co oo-boos, which fell unheard upon the 
darkened and heavy air. Besides all this, the thought 
that a wild-cat had been killed during the past week 
within a mile of where I was (some of the neighbors 
called it a “ link”), kept itself uppermost in my mind — 
in fact I thought I could see its eyes glaring at me from 
behind a dark rock, and I armed myself hastily with a 
the thump—thump. A little further, and again the dismal 
sound. At this, my courage came, and I resolved to 
know what all this was about, and following the sound, I 
crossed a little creek, when I stood and listened, and in 
front and above my head sat two old ou'ls. Close side by 
side they sat, as harmless as two kittens, with their great 
eyes upon me. I felt pleased,hilt having no time to spare, 
I stepped forward, when my owls, as quietly as mice, 
sought another branch on some distant tree, where they, 
I suppose, watched and talked to each other until long 
after the time when children should he in bed. My cows 
were lying in repose a few rods beyond, so it. turned out 
that the big-eyed and long eared birds had seen my cows 
and heard my call, at least they had actually helped me in 
my search. They led me out of my intended course, and 
to where the cows could be found. How often it is the 
case that, that which at first makes us sad—causes us pain 
—will at last lead us to a world of joy 1 I shall not for¬ 
get how the first sound of those owls scared me. If it 
had been my own brother calling my name, 1 should 
have been as greatly startled. 
The artist has attempted to reproduce the two friends 
of darkness, and I leave it for you to judge how well he 
has succeeded. Look at their great eyes, half as large, 
and somewhat resembling the moon beyond them. How 
they stare at you, as much as to say, “ Why are you out 
so late at night? This is oar day, no: yours!" They 
seem to have some project in view. Some matter is be¬ 
ing thoroughly discussed. Who knows but what they 
are making arrangements to live together, and this is a 
view of one of the stages of owl courtship? The artist 
evidently thinks so, as he has placed a great flower in 
their claws, as a token of screech-owl regard. We are not 
inclined to believe that such flowery, times ever come in 
the life of an owl. If it were a mouse that the lovers were 
considering, it would be more “life-like,” but I must not 
take the poetry out of this midnight, moonlight meeting, 
even if it seems a little imaginative to— Uncle Hai» 
