his ear, Pow-wow would fall to
wagging his tail in a hearty, emphatic manner, as were he,
Chinaman-like, shaking hands with himself over the glad event of the
day. But on receiving the pluck of the ear, in the dear old way, the
dear old fellow, quick to take the hint, gave vent to a sort of double
yelp, peculiar to him when in a waggish humor--a smothered nasal
"boo-woo," so irresistibly ludicrous that it had always made Sprigg
laugh, as now it did, right heartily. This is but the prelude to what
needs must follow. Up he rears himself on his hind legs, snaps at the
imaginary bone thrown up by an imaginary hand, catches it in his mouth,
drops with it to the floor, and, stretching himself out at full length,
pretends to gnaw what he pretends to hold between his paws. But this was
Pow-wow's only accomplishment--fancy accomplishment, I mean--for he was
a finished hunter and a finishing fighter, and we have seen for
ourselves that he knew exactly what to do with cows when he went with a
nice little girl to the pasture to help her drive them home. Therefore,
finding himself at the end of his programme sooner than the occasion
seemed to demand, he raised himself to his haunches and looked around
him with a deprecating air, as if he would fain apologize for his
deficiencies.

Hardly, however, could the apology have been expressed in words, when up
he bounces again to his hind feet and begins executing a series of
antics, so fantastic and undog-like that they who witnessed them were
quite as much astonished as amused. Jervis Whitney himself, than whom
there was not a man in the hunter's paradise more deeply versed in dogs
and their ways, and who thought he knew his own dog from head to tail
and back again, was even more astonished than the rest. Had old Mother
Hubbard and her far-famed dog risen from their honored graves and,
presenting themselves before our friends, repeated the dear old
programme, from the cupboard so bare, to the bier so sad, with the
fruits and the flue, the tripe and the pipe, the wig and the jig, and
all the other fondly remembered marvels between--scarcely could the
effect have been more startling.

Now, Pow-wow's antics on this occasion, unaccountable as they seemed to
those who witnessed them, and must seem to the more sober class of my
readers, admit of perfectly rational explanation, give them only Manitou
ground to rest on. Nick of the Woods and Meg of the Hills, who knew as
well as anybody--better