to it, got over the river without the necessity of swimming, and
reached home across country in time to meet his master, and with an
expression on his face of, "Well--what do you say to that?"

One more story of him must be given, showing his extraordinary sagacity
as well as his determination. When he had set his mind on anything, brick
walls were well-nigh powerless to stop him. He obeyed one man, if he were
by; in his absence, he acted solely in furtherance of the plans he had in
mind, and always with a knowing expression on his face.

He was paying a visit in the West of England, and had quickly found his
way about. One day at luncheon some one was rash enough to remark in
Dan's hearing that the carriage was going out. To run with the carriage
was strictly forbidden, and this Dan never failed to resent, as he did
also being shut up before the carriage came round. "Carriage" was one of
the thirty-eight words with which he was intimately acquainted, and when
he heard it used on this occasion he may have made mental notes
concerning plans to which he vowed he would be no party. However this may
have been, shortly before the hour arrived for the carriage to start Dan
could nowhere be found.

The road leading from the house branched into three at the end of about a
mile; and, as this point opened to view on the afternoon in question, a
yellow figure was seen to be standing there motionless, evidently waiting
to see which of the three ways the carriage would take. Needless to say
it was Dan, and that of course he had his run.

But an end must be made of chronicling the further remarkable
achievements of this wholly remarkable dog--his sage comments as he grew
older, his faithful discharge of his duties as he roamed the passages at
night, his intense love of sport and his deeds in that field in spite of
his being hopelessly gun-shy, his large heart, and those beautiful
manners which he still made pathetic efforts to show, even when he moved
with great difficulty and was both deaf and almost blind. He was just a
high-bred gentleman; and he had about him something of the courtesy of
the old school, which will still be discernible in some dogs when we have
finally and altogether lost the art ourselves.

Daniel was now growing old, if indeed he had not already done so. It was
obvious that he could not last much longer--perhaps a year; not more--and
it was necessary, therefore, to find an understudy. Irish terriers had
been