h Creran" by my friend Mr. Anderson
Smith. I punished my cat for killing a chicken. The next day he is seen
to carry a live chicken in his mouth and lay it down to the hen he had
previously robbed. He and the chicken afterwards were frequently
observed leaving the orchard together, and travelling through the
courtyard and back passages, find their way to the kitchen fireplace,
where they would sleep in good fellowship. This chicken, I discovered,
had been stolen nearly two miles away. It is important to remark that
the cat, though a cruel bird-killer, never touched another chicken. Was
the idea of compensation in the cat's mind? If not that, all the
circumstances are singularly coincident. And why did the chicken prefer
the cat's companionship to that of its fellows?

E. W. PHIBBS.

ANOTHER PIGEON STORY.

[_Oct. 6, 1888._]

Mr. Ainger's letter in the _Spectator_ of September 22nd reminds me of
an almost identical friendship that existed some years ago at Grove
House, Knutsford. A long-haired mastiff was kept chained as a watch-dog,
and when a white fantail pigeon's mate died, it attached itself to the
mastiff, and was continually with it in the kennel. When the dog had its
breakfast of porridge and milk, the pigeon would eat out of the bowl at
the same time; and when the dog had finished, it would lie flat on its
side while the pigeon perched on its head and pecked off the grains of
oatmeal that stuck to the long hair round its mouth. The only danger to
the pigeon seemed to be that when the dog rushed out of the kennel
suddenly to bark, it seemed to forget the pigeon, and we used to fear
that the heavy chain might hurt it; but it never was hurt. This
friendship lasted many years, till one of the two, I forget which, died.

ISABEL JAMISON.

DOG AND KITTENS.

[_July 1, 1893._]

The following story may, perhaps, interest some of your readers:--Willie
is a small, rough-haired terrier, a truculent and aggressive character,
the terror of tramps, in a skirmish with one of whom he has lost an
eye. He rules the kitchen with a rod of iron, the inmate there admiring
and fearing him. Next to tramps, Willie hates cats; he has been flogged
again and again for chasing the neighbour's "Tom"; nothing can stop him
rushing at the alien cat, however. But for his own domestic "Tabby" he
has tolerance and a certain amount of affection; if another dog were to
attack her, dire would be the