I tell thee again, Tinker, thy honest phiz brings wondrous things to my mind. Gough, on the mountains of Helvelyn, wasting in the winds, and his dog wasting by his side in unconquerable fidelity; the wolf and the bloody cradle of Beth Gelert; the dog of Montargis, and the dogs of the Great St. Bernard, are all before me,-more lion-hearted lions that I ever yet heard of.

than any

"See, Will, how this oddity of a dog can verify what even Milton says

They also serve, who only stand and wait.'

Let hounds traverse, in loud chorus and with upturned tails, field and forest in the chase; let greyhounds pursue in couples or in leash the hare; let the shaggy otter-hound follow the banks of lake or river for his subtle antagonist; let terriers, all alert, scour after their prey through thickets and brake; let the traveller's dog tramp after his master's gig, from town to town, dirty and footsore; let the cur lead the blind man on his way; and the shepherd's dog range the moors and mountains at his bidding: but the vocation of this odd old fellow is certainly to

'Stand and wait.'

And what a large class of dogs, Will, follow just that vocation. The sturdy mastiff waits in yards and warehouses, the guardian of great wealth. We hear his hoarse voice long before we see him in his dark corner in his tub-house, standing like Diogenes, as sturdy and uncompromising. He barks long before he, or, perhaps, any one sees us; for his sharp ears inform him of the tread of a stranger. The fine Newfoundland dog waits at the door of the hall, an object at once of befitting state and defence. He lies, as it were, in a very majestic and benevolent silence, occasionally rising up, and pacing here and there, with slow steps

ness.

and a graceful swing of his tail. The little dog waits in the old woman's cottage while she goes to market, and has nobody else to leave as her deputy and guardian over her few goods. The husbandman's dog waits like Trim here, in the summer fields, lying through the day by the clothes and provisions of the whole company in constant watchfulThe carrier's dog waits under his cart in the town while he goes to and fro on the demands of his calling, and neither sturdy thief, nor mischievous urchin, with longing eyes, dare draw near. The woodman's dog waits in the forest by the bottle and bag, while his master, from day to day, levels the mighty oaks, or burns charcoal for the needs of the distant town, blessing him in the very words of Scripture, in basket and in store;' and the bloody forest laws in former days, which decreed all other dogs to be killed or maimed in the royal forests, made an exception in his favour. But the dog Argus-the dog of Ulysses, outwaited them all, eh, Will?-as you'll find in Homer, one of these days, for he waited twenty years for the return of his master from the siege of Troy, and then lay down and died at his feet."

Here the old man rose, and taking me by the hand, went on, still talking of the many wonderful qualities of dogs; and I often thought of them afterwards, and firmly believed them all centred in my own dog, Pry-a white terrier that I had for no less than fourteen years! I never liked, and never shall like, any dog like that. He was the constant companion of all our rambles; and many were the rats, and snakes, and hedgehogs, that he hunted out and destroyed. The hedgehogs, indeed, as in our opinion harmless creatures, we compelled him to spare. Many are the feats and instances of sagacity of that dog that I could relate, but I must satisfy myself with one. We used to

attend the Friends' meeting, which was two miles distant, and was a pleasant walk across the fields. Pry used to attend with us, and behaved as well and quietly as anybody, laying himself down under the seat that I occupied, and scarcely moving till the meeting was over. On one occasion, as my father was putting up his horse in the stable which adjoined the meeting, Pry, who was in the stable, began fiercely to bark, and scratch under some boards that lay on the floor. As the Friends had already gone into the meeting, my father called Pry away, and drove him out with his stick; but he rushed back again, and renewed his scratching with such fury, that my father and another person who came in thought it best to see what occasioned his excitement. They therefore removed the boards, when a large hole, a burrow, discovered itself in the ground, down which Pry descended with great eagerness, and presently emerged again with a dead duckling in his mouth. Greatly were my father and the other person surprised, but their wonder was every moment increased by the dog's fetching out, one after another, no less than fifteen young ducklings, all dead; and, last of all, dragging out, after a hard battle, in which even he had been compelled to howl out two or three times, a huge polecat, the destroyer of the ducks! The smell which the creature made was so horrible that they were compelled to throw it out of the stable, and there, with the fifteen ducklings beside it, left it till the meeting was over. After meeting, much was the marvelling over these matters, and many were the praises bestowed upon Pry. A farm-house stood just by, inhabited by a rich old farmer of the name of Grammer. He was sent for, and on coming and looking at the ducks, he exclaimed, in his broad Derbyshire dialect, "Lard bless me! Lard bless me!—why, those are my ducklings! Well,

did onybody sey sich a seyt? My dame wondered how and where they vanished to. Every dee they were gooinggooin-gooin-like snow i' the sun-an nubbody could tell whire they went tow. By guy! and what a rousing owd fommard! They mud well goo-hey'd a soon a cleared aw ar' yard o' fowls. Well, that is a dog! isn't he? Hey's worth his weight in gowd! O lors! O lors! what havoc!" And with that he picked up the young ducks, holding them in a bunch by the legs, and with the fomart in the other hand, hobbled off to shew the monster and his victims to his dame.

AN active clever lad in the country never need feel dull;never experience that miserable sensation of wanting something to do. The objects of attraction, of employment, and amusement, that I have already mentioned, would be enough to prevent that; but if a lad has a turn for mechanical inventions and labours, there is another vast and inexhaustible source of pleasure opened to him. I remember, though I never was a very mechanical fellow, the pleasure I used to enjoy building my saw-mills, in making shoeheel bricks, in watching the operations of the various vil