e stood at the door of
the shop eating his bun, a large dog came up to him and begged for a
share, which he got, and seemed to enjoy, coming back for piece after
piece. "Does the dog belong to you?" my friend asked of the shop-woman.
"No," she answered, "but he spends most of his time here, and begs
halfpennies from the people who pass." "Halfpennies! What good can they
be to him?" "Oh, he knows very well what to do with them; he comes into
the shop and buys cakes."

This seemed rather a remarkable instance of cleverness even for the
cleverest of animals, so, by way of testing its reality, my friend went
out of the shop into the street, where he was immediately accosted by
the dog, who begged for _something_ with all the eloquence of which a
dog is capable. He offered him a halfpenny, and was rather surprised to
see him accept it readily, and walk, with the air of a regular customer,
into the shop, where he put his forepaws on the counter, and held out
the halfpenny towards the attendant. The young woman produced a bun, but
that did not suit the dog, and he held his money fast. "Ah," she said,
"I know what he wants," and took down from a shelf a plate of
shortbread. This was right; the dog paid his halfpenny, took his
shortbread, and ate it with decorous satisfaction. When he had quite
finished he left the shop, and my friend, much amused, followed him, and
when he again begged found another halfpenny for him, and saw the whole
process gone through a second time.

This dog clearly had learned by some means the use of money, and not
merely that it would buy something to eat, but that it would buy
several things, among which he could exercise a right of choice. What is
perhaps most remarkable is that his proceedings were entirely
independent, and for his own benefit, not that of any teacher or master.

A. L. W.

[_Feb. 17, 1877._]

When a student at Edinburgh, I enjoyed the friendship of a brown
retriever, who belonged to a fishmonger in Lothion Street, and who was
certainly the cleverest dog I have ever met with. He was a cleverer dog
than the one described by "A. L. W." because he knew the relative value
of certain coins. In the morning he was generally to be seen seated on
the step of the fishmonger's shop-door, waiting for some of his many
friends to give him a copper. When he had got one, he trotted away to a
baker's shop a few doors off, and dropped the coin on the counter. If I
remember