e considered the best singer he had
ever heard, and he answered, "Patti." In being asked who came next, he
replied, "Patti;" and on being questioned who was his third choice, gave
the same answer. Were I asked the three most important essentials for the
success of the brood bitch, I should say, "Exercise, exercise, exercise."
By this I do not mean leading with a chain, running behind a horse or
team, but the natural exercise a bitch will take if left to her own
devices. Nature has provided an infallible monitor to direct the dog the
best amount to take, and when to take it. One of the best bitches I ever
possessed was one weighing fourteen pounds by the original Tony Boy (one
of the best little dogs that ever lived) out of a bitch by Torrey's Ned,
by A. Goode's Ned. Her name was Lottie, and she had thirteen litters and
raised over ninety per cent. Those who have read that interesting little
book on the "Boston Terrier," by the late Dr. Mott, will readily recall
the genial Doctor speaking of the first Boston he ever owned, named "Muggy
Dee," and how intelligent he was, and what a number of tricks the Doctor
taught him, will be interested to know that Lottie was his
great-grandmother, and she was equally intelligent. We had several bitches
by the celebrated Mr. Mullen's "Boxer" out of her, (this is going back to
ancient history), one of which, "Brownie," was, to my fancy, the nicest
dog we ever had. She, with the rest of the litter, had the run of several
hundred acres, and many times I did not see them for days together. They
went in and out of the hayloft at pleasure, and spent the greater part of
their time hunting and digging out skunks and woodchucks which were quite
thick in the woods back of us at that time. I remember the first time
Brownie was bred to that king of sires, "Buster," owned by Alex. Goode
(than whom a more loyal Boston terrier man never lived), and I was rather
anxious to see the litter when it arrived, as from the mating I expected
crackerjacks. I had not seen her or her mother for two or three days, but
the time for whelping having arrived, was keeping a close watch on the
stable. About dusk she came in with Lottie, and in a short time gave birth
to four of the most vigorous, perfectly formed little tots I had ever
seen. Each one proved to be good enough to show, although only one was
sold to an exhibitor, Mr. G. Rawson, the rest going into private hands.
"Druid Pero" was shown in New York in 1898, ta