on the door-mat.

At meal-times he goes to a cupboard, in which is kept a bowl and napkin
for his especial use. The napkin he first spreads on the carpet, and
then placing the bowl in the centre, barks to give notice that his table
is ready. After this, he sits down and waits patiently till his dinner
is put into the bowl, on which he falls to and gobbles it up,--the
table-cloth preventing any of the bits which tumble over from soiling
the carpet. It has been asserted that he wipes his mouth afterwards in
the napkin; but I suspect that he is merely picking up the bits outside.
I am sorry to say that he forgets to fold up his table-cloth neatly and
to put it away, which he certainly should do; nor can he be persuaded to
wash out his bowl, though he does not object to lick it clean. People
and dogs, however, have different ways of doing things, and Master Rough
chooses to follow his way, and is perfectly satisfied with himself--like
some young folks, who may not, however, be right for all that.

His principal other accomplishment is to carry up the newspaper, after
it has been read by the gentleman downstairs, to his mistress in the
drawing-room, when he receives a cake as his reward. He also may be
seen carrying a basket after his mistress, with a biscuit in it, which
he knows will be his in due time; but that if he misbehaves himself by
gobbling it greedily up--as he has sometimes done, I hear--he will have
to carry the basket without the biscuit; so having learned wisdom from
experience, he now patiently waits till it is given to him.

If Master Rough is not so clever as some dogs I have to tell you about,
he does his best in most respects; and I am very sure that no thief
would venture to break into the house in which he keeps watch: so that
he makes himself--what all boys and girls should strive to be--very
useful.

BYRON, THE NEWFOUNDLAND DOG.

Next on my list of canine favourites stands a noble Newfoundland dog
named Byron, which belonged to the father of my friend, Mrs F--. On
one occasion he accompanied the family to Dawlish, on the coast of
Devonshire. His kennel was at the back of the house. Whenever his
master was going out, the servant loosened Byron, who immediately ran
round, never entering the house, and joined him, accompanying him in his
walk.

One day, after getting some way from home, his master found that he had
forgotten his walking-stick. He showed the dog his empty hands, and
pointe