g done his duty. He also showed his
sagacity in going to the daughter's room--the one most capable of seeing
to matters. Hoping, as a dog-lover, that this may interest all such, and
help to prove that dogs think and reason more than some human
beings--also to show that we often inferior beings have no right to
presuppose that the superior animals have no souls.

K. CLARKE.

A TRUE WATCH-DOG.

[_Aug. 5, 1893._]

The "dog" letter in the _Spectator_ of July 15th is wonderfully like my
experience, some years ago, with my little red Blenheim, Frisk. She
always slept in a basket, close to the hall door. One night she dashed
up the stairs, loudly barking, ran first to my eldest sister's room,
then through a swing-door to another sister's room, barking outside each
door, then upstairs again to my room at the top of the house, where she
remained barking till I got up and opened it, when she ran in, still
barking, and waited till I was ready to go down with her. She scampered
on before me, I following close, and when we both reached the hall she
dashed still barking to the door, to show me whence her alarm had
arisen. It was the policeman turning the handle of the door from the
outside to see if it was properly closed! One night, a long time after
the first adventure, I was wakened by a quiet scratch at the door of my
room. No barking this time; but, tiresome as it was to be disturbed on a
cold night, I got up and opened the door, and was conscious in the
darkness that Frisk was standing there. "Come in, Frisk," said I. But no
movement; Frisk stood waiting. "Come in, Frisk," I repeated, somewhat
sharply. No movement, no bark! Then, being sure that something must be
wrong, I lighted a candle, and there stood Frisk outside the door, never
offering to come in. She trotted quietly down before me, not speaking a
word. When we were both through the swing-door, and at the head of the
stairs, I saw that the inner door to the hall was open, and also that
of the morning-room, from which shone a bright light. My heart went
pit-a-pat for a moment; then seeing Frisk run quietly down the stairs, I
followed her, when she calmly jumped into her basket again, and I,
venturing into the morning-room, found that my brother-in-law had left
the lamp burning by mistake--a proceeding which Frisk plainly knew was
wrong, and had therefore come upstairs to inform me, but had not thought
it necessary to disturb the rest of the hous