to the water. Selecting
the right bunch from amongst the stones and wreck with which it was
surrounded, it brought it to land, and laid it at its master's feet.
This, I think, is a proof of _reason_, rather than of instinct. The dog
had never been trained to go into the sea, and would not probably have
brought out the mussels had it not seen that they were wanted.

It showed wonderful instinct, however, just before the death of one of
its pups, and before its own death. Its pup had not been thriving, and
the mother gave unmistakable proof that she foresaw its death. She dug a
grave for it and put it in. Nor, when it was removed, would she let it
lie beside her, but immediately dug another grave, where she was less
likely to be disturbed. Upon the day of her own death, also, she used
what strength she had to dig her grave, in which she lay, preferring to
die in it, than in what would seem to most a place of greater
comfort.[1]

These may not be singular incidents, but they are still remarkable and
worthy of notice. They serve to show us the wonderful nature of man's
faithful friend, the dog, and how he has many traits of character fitted
to make him the worthy receiver of kindness and respect.

T.

[Footnote 1: It is difficult to accept T.'s explanation of the dog's
object in digging. Possibly its aim was to obtain warmth or shelter.]

BULLY'S SHORT CUT.

[_Aug. 29, 1874._]

I see that you welcome all notes of interest upon our fellow-beings, the
dogs. Here is one that seems to prove they have a sense of time and of
distance as measured by time.

I was walking with my bull-terrier, Bully (seven years old last
Christmas), during a hot afternoon this month homewards along the Bund
(Shanghai), and I suddenly missed him. I turned back for twenty or
thirty yards, and, not finding him, I gave up the search, saying, "He
knows the way home well enough." Presently I saw him on my right,
dripping with water, cantering on at a round pace, without looking about
him, homewards. I watched him, curious to see whether he would go
straight home. No. He kept on till he reached the distance of about 150
yards, and looked ahead, _not_ smelling the ground. He then deliberately
walked back, catching sight of me in about twenty yards after his
turning back, and wagged his tale recognisingly. He had evidently been
to cool himself in the river (thirty yards to the right, it being low
tide), and, thinking I would g