ble, for one of the
clergyman's dogs was on its back, and the other by its side, flying at
every person who came near the animal. The owner comprehended the
mystery, and going to the stable himself, brought forth the steed: the
groom was a stranger, and the dogs dared not trust him with their
master's property.

A terrier, known to Professor Owen, was taught to play at hide and seek
with his master, who summoned him, by saying "Let us have a game," upon
which the dog immediately hid his eyes between his paws, in the most
honourable manner, and when the gentleman had placed a sixpence, or a
piece of cake in a most improbable place, he started up and invariably
found it. His powers were equalled by what was called a Fox-terrier,
named Fop, who would hide his eyes, and suffer those at play with him to
conceal themselves before he looked up. If his playfellow hid himself
behind a window curtain, Fop would, for a certain time, carefully pass
that curtain, and look behind all the others, behind doors, etc., and
when he thought he had looked long enough, seize the concealing curtain
and drag it aside in triumph. The drollest thing, however, was to see
him take his turn of hiding; he would get under a chair, and fancy that
he was not seen; of course, those at play with him pretended not to see
him, and it was most amusing to witness his agitation as they passed.
When he was ill he had been cured by some homoeopathic globules, and ever
after, if anything were the matter with him, he would stand near the
medicine box, and hold his mouth open.

A black and tan terrier, belonging to a linen-draper in Swindon,
directly the shop was opened in the morning, was in the habit of going
to the post-office with his master; the letter bag was put into his
mouth, and he carried it home. One morning he took it into his head to
precede his master, and go alone. The post-master, on seeing him, felt
so certain his owner was at the door, that he delivered the bag to him,
with which he ran home while his master was seeking him. From that time
it became his regular duty to fetch the letters daily.

Sir Walter Scott tells us of the remarkable comprehension of human
language evinced by his Bull-dog terrier, called Camp. He understood so
many words, that Sir Walter felt convinced an intercourse with dumb
animals might be enlarged. Camp once, bit the baker, for which Sir
Walter beat him, and, at the same time, explained the enormity of the
offence; a