ver find out, but I question whether he prized any of his
accomplishments more than this.

Sometimes, but not often, he would go out by himself to take a walk, we
supposed to see his friends, for I never heard that he had any love
affairs. If we all, or my daughters, or myself, met him on his return,
I, or they, or we all might call to him, notice him as he brushed past
us, or ask him to come for a walk. No. He would have none of our
company; he would cut us dead, and go toddling home, his tail more erect
and quivering than ever; never hastening his sedate pace, and giving his
usual kick-out with one hind leg every third or fourth step, as was his
custom. He would have no connection with us; that was quite clear and
decided. Sprig was very fond, too, of a walk with his mistresses or with
me, and, though never taught it, would always wipe his feet clean on the
hall mat as he came in. I am now going to relate an anecdote of Sprig
which I know is almost beyond credibility, but the occurrence so
displayed his power of thought and reason that I cannot withhold it. My
usual haunt is my den, as I call it, a large room at one end of our old
rambling house. There Sprig never came unless with his mistresses, and
indeed never was easy when he was there. I had begun a large full-length
picture of my daughters, and Sprig and Whisky, a small Skye puppy, were
to be painted lying at their feet. As the picture progressed, Sprig
seemed to understand all about it, and paid me the compliment of wagging
his tail at the portraits. One day my girls had been sitting to me, and
it was now Sprig's turn to sit. I put him into the proper position and
told him to lie still, and he proved a most patient sitter. When the
sketch of him was finished, I showed it to him; I think he was pleased
with his likeness, for he licked my face; but as he smelt at his
portrait, he did not like himself, and growled. Whisky was now put into
position, but was very restless, although Sprig scolded her by snarling
at her. Next day I had put the picture against the wall near the
window, and before a few steps which led up into my bedroom, and was
busy perched on a step-ladder with the after-portion of it. By and by I
heard a great scratching at my bedroom door, which was closed, and Sprig
whining to get in. I thought this odd, but it was too much trouble to
come down from my perch, and I told him to go away. He, however, only
whined and scratched the more. I therefore de