water-hens, plover, and wild ducks.

"Lost your appetite this morning, Cuff?" said Jarwin, offering his
companion a citron, which he decidedly refused. "Ah!" he continued,
patting the dog's sides, "I see how it is; you've had breakfast already
this morning; bin at it when I was a-sleepin'. For shame, Cuffy!--you
should have waited for me; an' you've bin an' over-ate yourself again,
you greedy dog!"

This was evidently the case. The guilty creature, forgetful of its past
experiences, had again gorged itself with dead fish, which it had found
on the beach, and looked miserable.

"Well, never mind, doggie," said Jarwin, finishing his meal, and rising.
"I'll give you a little exercise to-day for the good of your health.
We shan't go sulking as we did yesterday; so, come along."

The sailor left his bower as he spoke, and set off at a round pace with
his hands in his pockets, and a thick stick under his arm, whistling as
he went, while Cuffy followed lovingly at his heels.

CHAPTER THREE.

COMMUNINGS OF MAN AND BEAST.

It would appear to be almost an essential element in life that man
should indulge in speech. Of course we cannot prove this, seeing that
we have never been cast alone on a desert island (although we _have_
been next thing to it), and cannot positively conclude what would have
been the consequences to our castaway if he had rigidly refrained from
speech. All that we can ground an opinion on is the fact that John
Jarwin talked as much and as earnestly to his dog as if he knew that
that sagacious creature understood every word he uttered. Indeed, he
got into such a habit of doing this, that it is very probable he might
have come to believe that Cuffy really did understand, though he was not
gifted with the power to reply. If it be true that Jarwin came to this
state of credulity, certain it is that Cuffy was deeply to blame in the
matter, because the way in which that ridiculous hypocrite sat before
his master, and looked up in his face with his lustrous, intelligent
eyes, and cocked his ears, and wagged his tail, and smiled, might have
deceived a much less superstitious man than a British tar.

We have said that Cuffy smiled, advisedly. Some people might object to
the word, and say that he only "snickered," or made faces. That, we
hold, is a controvertible question. Cuffy's facial contortions looked
like smiling. They came very often inappropriately, and during parts of
Jarwin's discourse