Braque. The dog seated himself at the table, and his
antagonist opposite him. Six dominos were given to the dog, and six more
to the gentleman. Braque, having the double number, took it in his
mouth, and put it in the middle of the table, when the gentleman put
down a corresponding piece.

"Braque instantly placed another correctly, when the gentleman
intentionally placed a wrong number.

"The dog stared, growled, and at last barked angrily. Finding no notice
was taken of his remonstrances, he pushed away the wrong domino with his
nose, picked a suitable one from his own pieces, and put it instead,
when they went on, and Braque won the game."

"O, father, I mean to teach Tiney to play with me."

"But here is a wonderful story about dogs."

"About fifty years ago, a Frenchman brought to London from eighty to a
hundred dogs, chiefly poodles, all nearly the same size, and of the
smaller kind. On the education of these animals their proprietor had
bestowed a great deal of pains.

"From puppyhood upwards they had been taught to walk on their hind legs,
and maintained their footing with surprising ease in that unnatural
position.

"Among other performances was the representation of a siege. On the
rising of a curtain, there appeared three ranges of ramparts, one above
the other. In the centre of the fortress arose a tower, on which a flag
was flying. The ramparts were guarded by soldiers in uniform, each armed
with a musket or sword of an appropriate size. All these were dogs, and
their duty was to defend the walls from an attacking party, whose
movements now commenced the operations of the siege.

"After some skirmishing, in which the chief, habited as an officer of
rank, was conspicuous, the drums beat to arms, and the battle commenced
in earnest. The chief of the assailants did wonders. He was seen, now
here, now there, animating his men, and seeming to receive an accession
of courage on every fresh repulse.

"The rattle of the miniature cannon, the roll of the drums, the sound of
trumpets, and the heroism of the actors on both sides, imparted an idea
of reality to the scene. After numerous hair-breadth escapes, the
enemy's standard was hurled down, and the British flag hoisted in its
place; the ramparts were manned by the conquerors, and the smoke
cleared away to the tune of 'God save the King.'

"But a still more wonderful scene was an assembly room, on the sides and
the farther end of which seats were placed