of Prin's sagacity I will also mention. I had a black
cat, with white breast, named Toffy, between whom and Prin there was
peace, though not affection. There was also another black cat, with
white breast, that prowled about, an outlaw cat, who made free with my
chickens when he could! It was a bitter winter, and the snow had lain
already for days on the ground. I was walking one Sunday morning in my
garden, Prin being out with me. He quitted me to go under a laurel-hedge
bounding a shrubbery, and presently began barking loudly. I went towards
him, and saw a white-breasted cat sitting stretched under the laurels,
with front paws doubled under him, which I took to be Toffy asleep. I
scolded Prin for disturbing Toffy, and he stopped barking, but remained
on the spot whilst I continued my walk. Presently--say two or three
minutes after--I heard him barking still more loudly than before, and so
persistently that I returned to the spot. Noticing that the cat had
never moved through all the noise, I crept up under the bushes, and
found that it was not Toffy asleep, but the outlaw cat, dead--evidently
of cold. Thus my poor purblind watch-dog had--(1) barked to draw my
attention to what appeared to him an unusual phenomenon; (2), held his
tongue in deference to my (supposed) superior wisdom, when I told him he
was making a mistake; (3), not being, however, satisfied in his mind,
remained to investigate till he was convinced he had not been mistaken;
(4), called my attention to the facts still more instantly till I was
satisfied of them for myself. Could _homo sapiens_ have done more?

J. M. L.

[_Aug. 12, 1893._]

I am reminded by the anecdote related in the _Spectator_ of July 15th,
"A Canine Guardian," of the sagacity of a favourite Scotch terrier which
was displayed some years ago. I was dressing one morning, and my
bedroom-door was ajar. Standing at my dressing-table, I was surprised to
see Fan come up to me, frisking about, and looking eagerly into my face,
whether from pleasure or not I could not tell. I spoke to and stroked
her, but she was in no way soothed, and she ran out of the room
evidently much excited. In she came again, more earnestly trying to tell
me what she wanted, rushing up to me and again to the door, plainly
begging me to follow her, which I did, into the next room, where
breakfast was laid. I at once saw what she had easily felt was out of
order--the kettle was boiling over, and