great fear
of dogs. It grew at last to a connected narrative, in which a fright
in childhood from a rabid mongrel was said to have given him such
a sensitiveness to the near presence of dogs that he was liable to
convulsions if one came close to him.

This hypothesis had some plausibility. No other creature would be so
likely to trouble a person who had an antipathy to it. Dogs are very apt
to make the acquaintance of strangers, in a free and easy way. They
are met with everywhere,--in one's daily walk, at the thresholds of the
doors one enters, in the gentleman's library, on the rug of my lady's
sitting-room and on the cushion of her carriage. It is true that there
are few persons who have an instinctive repugnance to this "friend of
man." But what if this so-called antipathy were only a fear, a terror,
which borrowed the less unmanly name? It was a fair question, if,
indeed, the curiosity of the public had a right to ask any questions at
all about a harmless individual who gave no offence, and seemed entitled
to the right of choosing his way of living to suit himself, without
being submitted to espionage.

There was no positive evidence bearing on the point as yet. But one
of the village people had a large Newfoundland dog, of a very sociable
disposition, with which he determined to test the question. He watched
for the time when Maurice should leave his house for the woods or the
lake, and started with his dog to meet him. The animal walked up to the
stranger in a very sociable fashion, and began making his acquaintance,
after the usual manner of well-bred dogs; that is, with the courtesies
and blandishments by which the canine Chesterfield is distinguished from
the ill-conditioned cur. Maurice patted him in a friendly way, and spoke
to him as one who was used to the fellowship of such companions. That
idle question and foolish story were disposed of, therefore, and some
other solution must be found, if possible.

A much more common antipathy is that which is entertained with regard to
cats. This has never been explained. It is not mere aversion to the
look of the creature, or to any sensible quality known to the common
observer. The cat is pleasing in aspect, graceful in movement, nice
in personal habits, and of amiable disposition. No cause of offence is
obvious, and yet there are many persons who cannot abide the presence of
the most innocent little kitten. They can tell, in some mysterious way,
that there is a