ho are
replaced by others as soon as they grow to fourteen years of age. She
has brought two dogs with her, also, out of a number of pets which she
maintains at home. One is a fat spaniel, called Zephyr--though heaven
defend me from such a zephyr! He is fed out of all shape and comfort;
his eyes are nearly strained out of his head; he wheezes with
corpulency, and cannot walk without great difficulty. The other is a
little, old, gray-muzzled curmudgeon, with an unhappy eye, that
kindles like a coal if you only look at him; his nose turns up; his
mouth is drawn into wrinkles, so as to show his teeth; in short, he
has altogether the look of a dog far gone in misanthropy, and totally
sick of the world. When he walks, he has his tail curled up so tight
that it seems to lift his feet from the ground; and he seldom makes
use of more than three legs at a time, keeping the other drawn up as a
reserve. This last wretch is called Beauty.

These dogs are full of elegant ailments, unknown to vulgar dogs; and
are petted and nursed by Lady Lillycraft with the tenderest kindness.
They are pampered and fed with delicacies by their fellow-minion, the
page; but their stomachs are often weak and out of order, so that they
cannot eat; though I have now and then seen the page give them a
mischievous pinch, or thwack over the head, when his mistress was not
by. They have cushions for their express use, on which they lie before
the fire, and yet are apt to shiver and moan if there is the least
draught of air. When any one enters the room, they make a most
tyrannical barking that is absolutely deafening. They are insolent to
all the other dogs of the establishment. There is a noble stag-hound,
a great favourite of the Squire's, who is a privileged visitor to the
parlour; but the moment he makes his appearance, these intruders fly
at him with furious rage; and I have admired the sovereign
indifference and contempt with which he seems to look down upon his
puny assailants. When her ladyship drives out, these dogs are
generally carried with her to take the air; when they look out of each
window of the carriage, and bark at all vulgar pedestrian dogs. These
dogs are a continual source of misery to the household as they are
always in the way, they every now and then get their toes trod on, and
then there is a yelping on their part, and a loud lamentation on the
part of their mistress, that fills the room with clamour and
confusion.

Lastly, there