u do that this is intended for
him--he has reasoned upon it.

This is the simple and every-day performance of a common house-dog.
Observe the pointers in a field of close-cut stubble--two well-broken,
reasonable old dogs. The birds are wild, and have been flushed several
times during the day, and the old dog has winded them now in this
close-cut stubble, from which he knows the covey will rise at a long
range. Watch his expression of intense and yet careful excitement, as
he draws upon his game, step by step, crouching close to the ground,
and occasionally moving his head slowly round to see if his master is
close up. Look at the bitch at the other end of the field, backing him
like a statue, while the old dog still creeps on. Not a step farther
will he move: his lower jaw trembles with excitement; the guns advance
to a line with his shoulder; up they rise, whiz-z-z-z-z-z-z!--bang!
bang! See how the excitement of the dog is calmed as he falls to the
down charge, and afterward with what pleasure he follows up and stands
to the dead birds. If this is not reason, there is no such thing in
existence.

Again, look at the sheep-dog. What can be more beautiful than to watch
the judgement displayed by these dogs in driving a large flock of
sheep? Then turn to the Mont St. Bernard dog and the Newfoundland, and
countless instances could be produced as proofs of their wonderful
share of reasoning power.

The different classes of hounds, being kept in kennels, do not exhibit
this power to the same amount as many others, as they are not
sufficiently domesticated, and their intercourse with man is confined
to the one particular branch of hunting; but in this pursuit they will
afford many striking proofs that they in like manner with their other
brethren, are not devoid of the reasoning power.

Poor old "Bluebeard!"--he had an almost human share of understanding,
but being simply a hound, this was confined to elk hunting; he was like
the foxhunter of the last century, whose ideas did not extend beyond
his sport; but in this he was perfect.

Bluebeard was a foxhound, bred at Newera Ellia, in 1847, by F. J.
Templer, Esq. He subsequently belonged to F. H. Palliser, Esq., who
kindly added him to my kennel.

He was a wonderful hound on a cold scent, and so thoroughly was he
versed in all the habits of an elk that he knew exactly where to look
for one. I am convinced that he knew the date of a track from its
appearance, as