pon dear old Sprig as
we covered him up for ever. I wish I could write a fitting epitaph for a
creature who, through his life, was a constant source of pleasure to all
who knew him.

M. T.

A DOG STORY.

[_June 8, 1895._]

A friend thinks I ought to add to the collection of dog stories
appearing in the _Spectator_, one which is within my own knowledge, and
may appear deserving of publication. My uncle, a well-known Chairman of
the Bench of Magistrates in a western county, had a tenant on his
estates who occupied a farm not far from the River Severn. The farmer
possessed a favourite dog, who slept at the foot of his bed every night.
When a brother emigrated to Canada, the farmer gave him the dog as a
travelling companion. In the course of time the news arrived that the
emigrant and his family, together with the dog, had safely reached their
destination--a farm in the interior of Canada some days' journey from
the port where they landed. At a later date the brother in Canada wrote
to his family in England saying that the dog had disappeared. Some time
afterwards the dog came back to the farm of his old master, about three
miles from Gloucester, and though at first it could hardly be believed
that he was returned from Canada, yet he soon established his identity
by taking his old place at the foot of his master's bed at night.
Inquiries were made, and the dog's course was traced backwards to the
River Severn, thence to Bristol, and thence to a port in Canada. It
appeared that, after running from his home in Canada to the seaport, he
selected there a vessel bound for Bristol, and shipped on board. After
arriving at the Bristol basin, he found out a local vessel trading up
and down the River Severn (locally called a "trow"), and transferred
himself to her deck. When he reached the neighbourhood of Gloucester,
the dog must have jumped into the Severn and reached the shore nearest
to his old home.

I can vouch for the truth of this story, from information received from
my relations on the spot shortly after the occurrence took place. I knew
the farm well, and the farmer who occupied it.

H. C. N.

A CAT-AND-DOG FRIENDSHIP.

[_June 8, 1895._]

The interesting letter, "A Canine Nurse," in the _Spectator_ of May
18th, recalls to mind an equally curious event in cat and dog life which
occurred some years since in a house where I was living, but with the
additional interest o